Because I went showshoeing.
Vivian Park, south fork. Fresh powder, breathtaking views. On the way up, my fingertips were going numb, but once we leveled out and my blood was pumping properly, I was nice and toasty. Sweating, even.
Utah, today I really, really love you.
My friend, who was on cross-country skis, told me I did a good job. I told him I’m very strong.
By the way, is that very fair, him on skis while I’m in snowshoes?
We met a couple on our way up, Kaitlyn (not sure how she spells it) and George. Blond and smiley, they were. The girl spent last summer nannying in New Jersey, near the George Washington Bridge, and she said she prefers the fake niceness of Utah to the brashness of New Yorkers.
I can see where she’s coming from.
They took pictures of us, and we took pictures of them. I mean, how can one not bring a camera for an occasion like this?
I’m still kicking myself because I forgot mine. It’s sitting next to me now, in plain sight, cussing me out.
Good thing my friend brought his. I took a few photos with my camera phone, but the lens kept fogging up. You’ll see.
The snow brightened everything. It brought color to our cheeks. It was beautiful and powdery and frolicking in it brought me great joy. We would come to an untouched field along the trail and my friend would say, “This field is for you,” and so I skipped along in the snowshoes, sinking into the drifts and leaving deep prints and wandering trails of a very happy May.
Here are a few photos. Seriously, so much fun.