I’m not going to start quoting the Don Henley song that just popped into my head (you’re welcome), but it is in fact time to learn to be still. I intended an outing yesterday, as in out of the park. I have teas, books and an electronic gadget stocked up and waiting for me in the UPS bin. Nothing urgent, just pleasures and learning items for the long, interesting, snow filled winter that is upon me. Today makes three weeks since I’ve seen a human; a spell I did not wish to break, but the idea of more fresh eggs, whilst off the mountain, also felt enticing.
Yesterday was a blistery, wind filled day in which snow migrated from dawn til dusk. I chose to sit still, watch the weather, wait and let nature do its thing from west mostly, the winds rearranged much of the snow that had landed, and been relocated, in the days prior. It was a good day out here, even with the wind. I could not alter it, nor was it wise to fight with nature, so let it be, and just… be.
This morning, all was settled, my prior tracks filled and gone, but a quiet weather day for travel presented itself. Moon bug did not fair well with all the drifts. She got deeply, deeply buried in the piles in front of the Ortega cabin. I had to dig out around her, down three feet and fully beneath her, building a ramp to back out of the hole; if you break the pack, as I did, you are quite literally sunk.
Ninety minutes of digging, and she humbly returned me to the homestead, less than 25% through the outing. I am unsure if the packing of the trail is wise. There are so many drifts that, if you lose the pack as did I? You bottom out in the snow-that-won’t-bond. On my next attempt, I will stay local, and try for deeper still drifts that have not yet been packed. I need to learn if Moon Bug is in fact the winter machine for this lifestyle. She tried, but this snow is an enigma still, and there is much learning to do. Been in snow my whole adult life. This… we need a new word for whatever this stuff is.