Outdoor writing runner-up: Vigorous Winter
Oftentimes, when December clutches us with its transparent breeze and scolds like a mother to put on a scarf, we head inside and warm up by the fire in a recliner with a bathrobe on, 12-pound schnauzer nesting in the lap, and a mug of hot chocolate in hand. Nobody even considers stepping outside into a foot of frigid, friable snow.
All except for me and a few members of the Mead cross country team.
It may be 20 degrees outside with a wind chill of 10 mph, but we have gotten used to it. Every year, we replace our running shorts and light, aerodynamic T-shirts with multiple layers of sweatshirts, mittens, hats, earmuffs, and thick, woolen socks. Some say we look like the Michelin Man, but all of this is necessary to complete our run and to enjoy nature in its simplest form, in its vociferous silence, under a blanket of snow.
Sometimes, when we run near Camp Dart-Lo, life jumps out at us in the seemingly vacant winter. Sliding to a stop, with powdered snow flying into the air, we gaze at the awe of life’s natural processes. On the route we call Moose Run, we encountered a bevy of deer. Two stags, two does, and two fawns with does nudging their offspring through the symphony of snow, conducting their every step with seriousness and purposeful intent. Every so often, the fawns would gently push each other just enough to ignite a fight of frivolity. A fog of white and powder followed by a sudden disappearance of the fawns caused us to erupt in laughter; then, they emerged, making the common Northwest white-tailed deer nearly all white.
Finally, after the adult deer reined them in, the fawns shook the snow off their fur as if a dog would in the rain, and then they continued on through a cloud of snow.
I still have that day marked in my running journal: Dec. 15, 2014 - It was very cold today, but we ran 7 miles. Met a large group of crazy deer. Thankfully, they did not intrude on us, but they did cause quite a stir. Tyler and I could not stop laughing about the two fawns brawling in the snow!
A few days later, we ran another route called the Tyson Loop and found a large moose nearly 7 feet tall and what must have been at least 800 pounds. We had just slipped and skidded our way around a hairpin turn when we fell on our backs as Harry and Moe did in “Home Alone.” The brown monstrosity scared the living daylights out of us (it was about 5 p.m., so it actually was nearly dark). We quickly scrambled to our feet as we turned around (in the same comedic fashion) back to Mead.
Dec. 19th, 2014 - Ran 5 miles today. We literally turned around a corner, stopped in our tracks (with difficulty) and proceeded back to Mead. At the time, the moose was scarier than most clowns, but when we returned to Mead, we joked about how scared everyone else was!
Running in the winter has always surprised me with every turn, every slip, and every slide. Being out in the cold has given me heartwarming experiences and the desire to discover nature’s untapped secrets.