Snowed In

If a snowstorm rolled in now and stayed until late spring, I’d be happier than a jaybird. That is, as long as I had plenty of supplies and food to remain comfortable for the storm’s duration. I’ve always wanted to live where the snow all but swallows my house up. Especially when I was a kid. What kid doesn’t dream of being unable to attend school for days on end because of the snow? Now that I’m an adult and have adult responsibilities, I’d give anything to be snowed in. All I need to keep me entertained is a small shovel to make snow caves with and I’m set for the winter.

Now that I have a small son who still isn’t quite big enough to go skiing with me (my wife insist three months is NOT a reasonable age to start teaching a child how to ski; I say the sooner the better), I may as well be snowed in this winter. Don’t worry; I’m not complaining. I’ve plenty of things to do around the house, but I know I won’t be participating in too many outdoor adventures this winter. Perhaps a ski trip or a sled ride here or there. Nothing extremely dangerous and life-threatening; after all, I’ve got to survive long enough to teach my son how to take ridiculous risks in order to show nature that man is a formidable opponent in the never-ending conflict of Man vs. Nature.

I’ve considered building my own snowmaking machine in my yard. By using the back part of my roof I could create a small ski/sled hill, maybe even with a jump at the end of it to launch me over the back fence. The neighbors might not be happy with the extra snow I’m creating, though. My roof would probably cave in too. Better scale down the operation.

The Iditarod is a little over three months away. I already own two dogs that love the snow; I’ll only need about ten more. We can head over to the nearby park every day and practice pulling a sled around. Okay, never mind. I just read the rules for the Iditarod and I’m already unqualified because I haven’t ever run a dog sled race before. But that doesn’t mean I can’t train for other sled races that aren’t as grueling. I’m sure my 15-lb. dogs won’t mind pulling my 160-lb. body (plus a sled) around for a couple of hours every day.

The most reasonable wintry idea I’ve recently come up with involves a pair of snowshoes. Who needs a mountain to enjoy snowshoeing? I’ll walk around on the snow in my yard. I’ll even shovel the snow into random piles to fool myself into believing I’m walking along mountainous terrain. If I become tired of my own yard, I could venture out onto my neighbors’ snowfields. And if I neglect to ask for permission to snowshoe in their yards, that would add a risky element to the whole scheme. Avalanche danger and wild animal encounters would be replaced with neighbors demanding an explanation for my tromping through their yards. Might just be the most adventurous winter yet…