I had a great morning of magic skiing last Sunday. During the day, the snow had been melting, but refreezing at night. The alarm went off at 6 a.m., and two or three times I talked myself out of going. But I drove to the other side of the lake, walked up the icy hill, and headed off into the woods. With a nice crust on the snow, you are free of the constraints of a trail, and the whole woods is yours to glide through. No other silent sport can be this dreamlike and magical. It was only out about an hour. Soon, the magic crust would be gone.
This extra day of skiing was a nice bonus. Spring can now come!
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