Skiing in Circles (part II)

After several hours of moving through the blizzard I realize that the Trail seems familiar. And then I realize that I’ve skied this section before. Somehow, I have circled completely around and am right back where I started. I turn around on the Trail, while now backtracking the section that I have already skied. Of course, this section is mostly uphill, just for fun. Now I'm hours off of my schedule and tired. I also realize that my light backcountry ski set-up, while light, doesn’t give me much support with the big backpack and the top-heavy load. I proceed to crash on several of the more finicky, downhill sections. It’s blatantly obvious that I don’t have the right skis for what I’m skiing.

I finally get to the split in the Trail where I initially made my error. This time I head in the right direction. Moving into the now fierce blizzard. It doesn’t take long before I hit another section of Private Lands, where the Trail markings become few and far between. Between the blizzard, and the now snow covered Trail, and the poor signage, it’s fair to say that I’m playing Roulette. I move slowly, trying to find my way, while it occurs to me that I’m in a tough spot. Of course, I eventually make the wrong choice again. I keep moving, climbing uphill, which is now beginning to take a toll, especially because of the heavy backpack and the flimsy skis. I get to the top of the Green Mountains, where I get to ski downhill for quite some distance. Once again, crashing at regular intervals because of the flimsy skis and the finicky terrain. Eventually, the trail begins to look familiar again. And then I realize, that once again, I have made a gigantic circle.

The late afternoon shadow begins to set upon Route 18. All I’ve done is ski one giant figure eight. I’ve traveled in circles, through a merciless blizzard, while managing to not really get anywhere. The late afternoon shadow moves toward that deep shade, which signals nightfall. I begin backtracking towards my vehicle, while deciding that enough’s enough. Aborting my ski trip now seems like the only practical solution. I hustle to get back before complete darkness.

I move quickly, crashing several more times. I put on my headlamp, so that I can see the Trail in front of me. The late afternoon shadow quickly falls into nighttime and I’m still skiing along. And I ski further and further into the darkness, until I feel like I’ve skied too far, and I think I have. The Trail just doesn’t seem right.

I decide to camp for the night, knowing that I’m close to the Trailhead, yet I don't have a clue where it is. I’m wet and tired, having now skied all day with the heavy pack. I bury myself into my sleeping bag, after removing all of my wet clothes. I wrap myself in my winter bag. The condensation covers me, drawn by my body heat and the frigid temperatures. I fall sound asleep from exhaustion. Tossing and turning from such a tough day of skiing in circles and never really getting anywhere.