Randy Hulme, head groomer for the Nordic ski trails at the Happy Jack Recreation Area, lays down some “corduroy” a week ago, providing excellent conditions for at least a while yet.
Dobby, the author’s Australian shepherd, is all smile after taking a dozen rolls in the snow on the Nordic ski trails at the Happy Jack Recreation Area. While the ski season is nearing its end, Mother Nature still might help keep it going a while longer.
A bicycle's headlight lights the road while amid a stunning sunrise. It's that time of year when non-snow activities, such as road cycling, take over from winter snow activities.
Randy Hulme, head groomer for the Nordic ski trails at the Happy Jack Recreation Area, lays down some “corduroy” a week ago, providing excellent conditions for at least a while yet.
Amber Travsky/courtesy
Dobby, the author’s Australian shepherd, is all smile after taking a dozen rolls in the snow on the Nordic ski trails at the Happy Jack Recreation Area. While the ski season is nearing its end, Mother Nature still might help keep it going a while longer.
Amber Travsky/courtesy
A bicycle's headlight lights the road while amid a stunning sunrise. It's that time of year when non-snow activities, such as road cycling, take over from winter snow activities.
I need another dawn ski outing. Dobby, my Australian shepherd, and I arrive at the Tie City trailhead at the Happy Jack Recreation Area just as the sun inches above the horizon. This Monday morning is breezy, with the wind about 15 mph. That’s a far cry from the extreme wind event last weekend that kept me from the trails. I wimped out, not wanting to deal with a 60-mph gale.
I am hopeful some of the snow that fell with those breezes is still around or a new skiff is blown in to cover the early morning crust. It is cold, at a mere 18 degrees; it feels like winter.
Surprisingly, we are the only ones out this early. That’s handy since Dobby gets exuberant when he first gets out of the car. Putting him on leash right away is challenging.
With no one around, I let Dobby out and he immediately rolls on the wind-created drifts. He runs up, flops on his back, and wiggles back down. Then he dashes about checking all that p-mail as I make my way to the ski trails. That’s when I discover why I’m the only one here.
I’ve brought skis to an ice rink. Any skiff of snow is long gone to Nebraska. All that remains this morning is a slick and crusty surface. Spring left its mark.
My skis are waxed with a nice kick to get up the trail. I push with my poles to assist in the effort, but the surface is so hard, the tips don’t even poke into the snow. Instead, they slide worthlessly across the slick surface.
I reach a rise and take off on the downhill segment. I have no control. My skinny little skis with no metal edges chatter across the surface, picking up speed and heading wherever they want. I let out a little shout, much to Dobby’s delight as he runs alongside me. He doesn’t realize it’s a yell of surprise and a little panic. Luckily, I come to a stop just short of colliding with a buck-and-rail fence.
I continue on the trail for a short while before waving the white flag. Conditions are just too slick to have much fun. I turn around and make it back to the empty parking lot, unscathed.
A friend who skied later in the day told me it was quite good by then; not too soft and not too icy. That goes to show, this time of year it’s best to let the ice soften before getting out. It also helps to ski after the groomers have done their magic to break up the crust and smooth out the icy ruts.
Just a week earlier I skied three consecutive days, and each outing had great conditions. One of the mornings, thanks to about 2 inches of new snow overnight, was some of the best skiing of the year for me.
Such is shoulder season, where ski conditions change daily, or even hourly. This time of year also means moving to non-snow activities and, for me, that is road cycling.
My first dawn bike ride was early last week, a couple days after the primo skiing. As with skiing, I get out with the sunrise due to work obligations.
The temperature for that first ride was a rather nippy 28 degrees, but I pedaled in those temperatures before — with the right clothing. Either I am getting wimpy or my winter riding attire isn’t up to snuff; I was freezing. I had to wave the white flag that morning, too. After just a few miles I turned around and headed for home before I started shivering.
Two days later, I tried again with the temperature a balmy 38 degrees. That extra 10 degrees did the trick. I enjoyed a wonderful ride as the sun came up over Roger Canyon.
The key to spring, if you want to call it that, is to stay flexible. April is called the cruel month for a reason. Nice weather entices us to don shorts and stow the parkas. The next day, clouds roll in, snow spits from the sky, and we are reminded once again that spring in Wyoming is such a tease.
It happens every year. While I’m ready for biking and fishing seasons, I’m fine with getting on the ski trails again, too. Just stay flexible through this shoulder season. Keep the long johns ready, next to the shorts.
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