Gotta start somewhere…

Gingerly, I pick up my snowshoe-clad foot and stomp it into the snow ahead of me, following Shawn’s giant footsteps as he dutifully supervises.  Careful not to step on myself (again), I place one foot in front of the other, experimenting with different walking styles.  It’s my first time with snowshoes on, as if I’m not clumsy enough already.  From up ahead, I can hear him laughing at me.  Maybe it’s because I’m giggling to myself as I trample aimlessly through the snow, thoroughly entertained by how comically huge my footprints look.  Or maybe it’s because I just fell on my face into a bush. 

I scramble up towards Shawn, abashed.  He looks relieved to see me alive.  I feel relieved to be alive.  He isn’t even out of breath.

We keep walking upward.  My pace quickens as I get used to walking with a wider stride.  My legs feel heavy under the weight of the snowboard strapped to my back.  I fall a few more times.  My snowshoe falls off once.  Shawn laughs some more.  Then, I hit myself in the back of the head with my snowboard.

Finally, he stops.  I stand with my hands on my knees, panting.  He looks at me and shakes his head.  “You’ve got some work to do on those legs.”  No shit.  I feel like we’ve been walking forever.  He hasn’t even broken a sweat.

Once the thundering sound of my own breath subsides, I can hear… well, nothing.  Stunned by the silence, I look out over the endless treetops and smile.  The quiet reminds me of exactly why we moved here.  I can’t help but feel a little smug when I think of all my friends who have to work today, shuffling papers in their offices.  As for me?  I don’t even care what day of the week it is.

I plop down onto the snow next to Shawn, our snowshoes sticking straight up towards the sky.  We swing them side to side and laugh uncontrollably.  We should definitely remember to pack a picnic next time.  I could totally go for a sandwich right now.

After a few greedy moments of relaxation, we stand up and grab our boards.  Shawn tries to point out to me the best route down.  I’m not very good at this “planning” business, so instead I flop down onto the slow and scramble into my bindings.  He cautions me to look where I’m going as he straps my purple snowshoes onto my backpack.

My legs are still burning, but I’m too excited to care.  Shawn heads down first, expertly maneuvering through trees and casually jumping over a bush.  Umm, I hope he doesn’t expect me to do that.

I follow behind him, clumsily crashing into a miniature sapling, pulling a few branches off in the process.  “Oops!”  I stand back up and laugh, brushing snow off myself.  Okay, maybe I’ll start being more careful.  “Sorry, little tree…”  Shawn looks at me impatiently.  Yes, I’m clearly out of practice.

We cruise between the trees, yelling like little kids.  The fronts of my teeth feel cold and dry from the wide grin plastered across my face.  Everything’s a blur.  And just like that, the ride is over.

What?!? 

I could have sworn we walked for miles.  I turn and look up behind me.  I spot our tracks and follow them up the hill.  Oh.  “I definitely thought we were way higher up that hill.”

“Yeah,” Shawn replies.  “I didn’t want to kill you.  Yet.”

“Ha ha, very funny.”  I roll my eyes, my ego deflates. 

The neighbor’s dog runs up, trampling through the deep snow.  His tail wags happily as he tries to eat the snow around him.  Guess we’re not as far away from civilization as I romantically envisioned, either.  I look over and wave meekly at the dog’s owner.  He’s not even wearing a jacket.  ….Mmmyeah, I’m so not a bad-ass.

I unstrap my snowboard and pull the snowshoes off my backpack.  I look up at Shawn.  He’s right.  I’ve got a lot of work to do.  He throws a snowball at my head and teases me.  He knows what kind of self-congratulatory thoughts just ran through my head.

“Should we go again?” 

Yes, I definitely have more work to do.