First Ski of the Year

Right on cue, December brought the first good snow to west Michigan. The cold air that moved in today brought a few more inches and lots of gracefully floating flakes in the air. Feeling the need for some exercise, I called my friend Chuck to see if he would be interested in a quick ski in the Rogue River State Game Area in northern Kent County.

As luck would have it, Chuck was home and he had the spare time on his hands.

There was just enough snow on the ground for skiing, although the snow closest to the ground was still plenty moist from last week's heavy rains and temperatures in the 60s. But more on that later.

After skiing for about twenty minutes, we came to one of my favorite bluffs over the Rogue River, a place that I jokingly refer to as the "Judy Tree." Since it was quite a while since I had last visited this section of trail, I was surprised to find that the Judy Tree had been toppled in a storm.

As she fell, she split into pieces. The big trunk of this 100 year-old beech fell towards the river, another branch fell to the north, and a twisted mess of branches fell across the trail.

Why do I call her the "Judy Tree?"

Many years ago, when she was still standing and healthy, plenty a jack knife plied her trunk to claim that various unthoughtful souls had passed her way. One particular person that apparently passed her way more than once was Judy. By the evidence on the trunk, Judy had a number of male suitors that felt in necessary to proclaim their love in the smooth bark of this beautiful beech. On the tree could be read "Dave + Judy"... and Mike, and Ron, and Joe...

While Judy was certainly loved, the lack of affection that many a passer by had for the tree eventually lead to its ill health and demise.

The ironic thing was that while it lived, the Judy Tree tightly embraced a neighboring hemlock, leaving a huge scar that can be seen to this day.

Chuck and I skied north for a bit more than two miles before turning around. At the turn-around point, we shared a power bar and Chuck dug out a few shelled chestnuts he had purchased from a farmer in Newaygo County.

During our break, we talked about how we hoped that our tracks would cause the snow to freeze a little more firmly.

That was not to be the case. Instead, the wet snow underneath continued to stick to our skis, causing us to have to stop and scrape off the frozen slush.

The stuff got so dreadful at times that we could hardly push our skis along. It caused us to wobble and strain.

To the right is a picture of the frozen mass found underneath one of my skis, pine needles and all.

The friction made the skiing hard work. I thought it odd how we were now basically walking through the woods with six foot long and two inch wide snowshoes shaped like elves' booties.

Yet all the work still didn't keep us from enjoying the wonderful beauty of the newly fallen snow and the flakes drifting around us. Whether we skied past beeches, birch, oaks or hemlocks, the whiteness of the new snow was refreshing.

The beauty and the work made for a nice afternoon, and as we skied back to the Jeep shortly after 5:00pm, the clouds thinned enough to give us a glimpse of the rising full moon.

And the moonlight allowed me to snap one quick last picture of this little troll snatching at my ski! And all along I thought it was the wet snow.