Darren Bush
Snowshoeing in the woods.
If it gets you off the couch, that’s the ticket.
Forty years ago I moved to Madison after getting married to a Wisconsin girl. Having grown up in the desert in California, it was a shock to the system, but a good one. There are two seasons in the desert: green (lasts six to eight weeks) and brown (the rest of the year).
Despite my SoCal upbringing, I strongly prefer multiple seasons. I realized that there are not only four seasons, but more discrete periods in an accurate calendar of the passage of time. Spring has several subseasons: first hint of green, spotting of the robin, ephemeral plants, second winter, and mud. Then comes daily birdfeeder, sharpen mower blades, and buy tomato plants.
But what about winter? Some see it as a season to be endured rather than enjoyed. Of course there are subzero days with a windchill that freezes nose hairs and bites into exposed flesh like a winter-hearty vampire bat, and when I can, I stay in. Sometimes I add more layers and do my thing. The activity doesn’t really matter. Snowshoeing, cross-country skiing, ice skating, sledding, birdwatching, whatever — if it gets you off the couch and outside, that’s the ticket.
Mindset
But as I learned early on, there’s a mental and spiritual preparedness that goes along with the physical preparation. I asked for advice from my friend, John Bates, a naturalist from Vilas County and author of several of my favorite books on the natural world of Wisconsin, including the Graced by the Seasons series.
I believe enjoying winter begins with your approach, and so does Bates. “It starts with the stories you tell yourself every day. Is it too cold or is it invigorating? Do you think ‘Great, it snowed again and the roads will suck,’ instead of ‘Oh, it’s so beautiful; look how the snow dresses the trees.’ It’s a matter of how you frame your ventures outside. What makes a pilgrimage a pilgrimage? Your intention.”
In other words, a walk without a purpose is just a walk. A pilgrimage is about experiencing the journey. But pilgrims are prepared. If you’re distracted by the cold, you can’t enjoy the pilgrimage.
Bates has some advice. “One of things I often do is greet everything as a way of grounding myself in where I am: Hello white pine, hello balsam fir, hello lichens, hello buds on this sugar maple. It helps me get out of my head and into the place where I am. I also bring gratitude, thanking the things along the way, and thanking my body for being able to still do this, of being alive in this moment.”
Snowshoes, a thermos, boots, and other winter activity equipment
Dress right. Bring along hot chocolate.
Wardrobe
Once your attitude is adjusted, work on clothing to stay warm. You don’t have to spend a fortune or buy an expedition-worthy arctic coat. I prefer something less monolithic. You probably already have most of what you need in your wardrobe.
Layers are always best for activities outdoors, as you will go from cool to hot on snowshoes or cross-country skis pretty quickly, and getting sweaty is the worst for maintaining comfort and safety. Layer up with long underwear, sweaters or fleeces, and top it off with something windproof. Longer is better, to keep your bum warm.
For many winter activities, keeping hands and feet warm is tricky. This is where an investment, especially in footwear, is worth it. Circulation is key, so tight boots aren’t great; better looser ones with two pairs of socks if the temperature is around zero. Keeping your blood moving is the best way to stay warm. If your boots are short, consider gaiters, which are attached to your boots to create a collar that’ll keep snow out of your boots.
Pick an activity
Let’s take snowshoeing as an example. There are many choices of snowshoe both in brand and style. Modern snowshoes are plastic and metal with claws, called crampons, that dig into hard snow and ice. They’re great for early and late season in relatively shallow snow and compacted trails. When things get deep and fluffy, I use traditional snowshoes of my own making. There are no claws or crampons, but you float on the surface better than with the modern models.
If you want to build your own, you can buy a kit from snowshoe.com. The kit comes with excellent directions; just go slow and steady. There’s a learning curve, but a real sense of satisfaction when you walk on your own work. No need for a collection of all sorts of snowshoes, however. A good pair will be suitable for 90% of the situations you’re likely to encounter in the Upper Midwest. If you find yourself chasing the fluffy stuff, add a second pair and you’re golden.
If you want guidance, take a class. There are many to choose from: a search engine knows where they all are and you can find one close to you.
Always bring a small backpack with extra layers, a headlamp, and a Thermos of something hot. I often take hot chocolate because it provides heat and calories.
Now that you’re all geared up, where to go? There are snowshoe trails at most state parks and some county parks. Locally Indian Lake, Lake Farm, Token Creek and McCarthy county parks and Door Creek, Elver and Cherokee Marsh-south at Wheeler and School roads in the city of Madison have designated winter snowshoe/hiking trails. Etiquette demands not tromping on groomed ski trails when the trails are shared. If you want to go with friends or to an event, candlelight snowshoes (and hikes if there’s no snow) are quite popular. Walking in the woods at night is a treat, especially when the path is marked by luminarias, like at a free, family-friendly candlelight hike Jan. 18 at the Aldo Leopold Center in Monona. Or learn about tracking animals while on snowshoes in free DNR-led classes in the Kettle Moraine State Forest Southern Unit between Eagle and Dousman on Jan. 4 and 18 and Feb. 8 and 15.
