14° and Light snow
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I used to be a foul weather Bills fan. In the days when the team mostly stunk – at the end of Joe Ferguson, in the middle of the hopeless times, think Joe Dufek or Vince Ferragamo.
It was the 1980s. I’d get a call from a friend or my brother Mark who had seasons. If it was a bad weather day, someone always had a ticket to give way. Snow storm? Let’s have it. Rain? Who cares?
Times change. Now tickets are not for the plebian class. You need to be a member of the aristocracy to afford entry.
Alas, I still love a bad weather day. So it was in the heart of Sunday’s storm, Gord and I headed into the maelstrom.
It was our fourth trip of the year down the Whirlpool stairs. I carried the same safety gear I would bring on a winter hike in the Adirondack High Peaks, a temporary shelter, multiple ways to build a fire, food and water and a fully charged phone.
I contemplated snowshoes but realized despite 4-inches of fresh snow, there was a high likelihood the trail would be broken. It was the right call.
The 5-mile hike we like best took about about two hours. The snow never stopped. At one point, he stopped to gnaw ice off his paws. He even let me help clear some, which surprised me because a cold paw is a wounded paw and he was smart enough to know I would help.
On this day we didn’t see another soul. There always seems to be fox tracks in the snow but we have never seen one. We also saw fresh beaver damage.
A friend, when I invited him to join us, told me he still has good knees and hips and a strong back, and he’s 58 so he didn’t want to chance it. I’m older than him and grateful for strong legs and a strong back,
Another friend was set to join us but said his wife asked him not to because of the weather. She doesn't know me, or my level of prep.
The whole thing reminds me of a Jewish friend.
“How are you?” he asks.
“I am well. How are you?”
"I am well,” he says. “Thank God.”
We had that exchange several times before I heard it.
"I am well. Thank God."
If anyone wants to come for an adventure, let me know. I think we have one more January trip down the stairs left in us.
