Mount Evergreen

Usually on a weekend in the winter you can find me at Mount Evergreen Ski Club, my home away from home.  I've been skiing here every winter since I was about 4 years old when I learned to ski on the little hill beside the parking lot.  Eventually I mastered that little hill, both down and up, and pushed my way across the flats to the t-bar and the Real Ski Hills.

I usually walk to the hill from my house.  It's pretty far; sometimes I am lucky and I get a ride.  There's a shortcut to the hill on a skidoo trail through the bush once I get to Skyline store; packed by snowmobiles its easy to walk on.  If I haven't gotten a ride by the time I get to the store, then I take the shortcut.  I have to carry all of my ski stuff when I go; my arms can get pretty tired.  It's better when I can use a boot tree to hold my boots together, although sometimes they pop right out of it.  I have a good system to put my skiis and poles together: the skiis through the pole straps, and then wrap the safety strap around tight and clip it.  That keeps everything together and I don't drop anything.

Often I'm one of the first ones at the hill.  Mr. and Mrs. Symonds live right at the hill  though so I am never there before them.  Mrs. Symonds runs the chalet, and Mr. Symonds loves to cross country ski around the property.  Not very many people cross country ski at the hill usually, but he always does.  He told me one time about Jackrabbit Johannsen, a man who is a hundred years old and STILL loves to ski!  I think Mr. Symonds will ski until he is a hundred, too.

Mrs. Symonds doesn't ski, but she loves to be in the chalet.  Mostly she sells the lift tickets.  She also works behind the lunch counter.  Her granddaughters sometimes work there too - Ivy and Frances.  They are really fun girls and sometimes they will give me swampwater for FREE!  The swampwater is really good - it's the pop that is left in the tray when they fill a cup and it overflows into the tray.  I always bring my lunch with me but sometimes I find a quarter or a dime on the floor to get a hot chocolate.

Finally arriving at the hill on this sunny cold Saturday, I bring my skiis down to the ski rack in front and head into the chalet.  After going upstairs to see who is around (no-one yet), and saying Hi to Mrs. Symonds at the ticket counter, I head back downstairs to get my stuff on.  My ski boots are black leather with laces inside and silver buckles outside.  I got them this year from the swap shop and they look really great, especially since I blackened them up with shoe polish to look like new.  Downstairs is the spot for changing your boots and I usually find a place on the bench where I can tuck my winter boots, my boot rack and my lunch.  I take my time to get the boots buckled up just right so my feet won't get cold right away - not too tight or too loose.  I do have a couple of pairs of socks on, but some days they get cold really quickly anyway.  I wait around but there aren't many people out here yet, although Mr. Myles and his crew already have the t-bar running.  If it gets busy enough, and if he has enough help, he'll start the rope tow too, usually around lunch time.  You use the rope tow to get up to the Big Hill, Skyline - the rope tow is so fast it just zips you up the hill!  It's not for little kids.  The sun is warm coming in the window as I put on my boots, although I know from my walk this morning that skiing will be quite frosty.

Boots buckled and lunch stowed, I head out to the ski rack.  I love the way the ski boots make me walk heel-toe, heel-toe, stomp stomp stomp.  I push the door open and squint at the sunlight sparkling off the snow.  There's a light dusting of new snow this morning, and the sparkling is beautiful.  In the quiet, still air, I can hear the t-bar tinkling as a bar goes around the big wheel at the bottom of the hill and heads back up again. Boots squeeking in the snow, I walk over to get my skiis off the rack and use my poles to scrape the snow from the bottom of my boot before stepping into the bindings.  With the binding cable around the back of my skiboot, I push the front of the binding down and it snaps into place.  Then I carefully wrap the safety strap around my snowpants and clip it.  It's hot work, all this fiddling around, bent over and bundled up, but eventually I've got them on.  It is easier putting them on, when you're still warm, then taking them off when you are freezing cold!  Straightening up, I squint out over to the t-bar.  There aren't too many people around yet, but that's because I've come so early.  It's the best time to make some nice tracks on the hill, before everyone else arrives.  I love skiing in the morning.

I head away from the chalet, a big pole push to get started and ski-skate across the flats just like I've seen the big kids do it.  It took me awhile to learn how, but now I can get going pretty fast and I'm at the t-bar corral in no time.  No line ups, so I go right up.  Mr. Miles is there today and he smiles at me and we say good morning.  I slide into place and Mr. Miles passes the t-bar for me, just right, and away I go up the hill.  He never passes the t-bar wrong; I've seen him teach all kinds of people how to get on.  He makes it look so easy, even when someone really tall and a really little kid get on together.

On my way up the hill, I stare at my skiis in the tracks, watching as they slip up and down.  Matt is working today, shoveling out the dips in the track so it stays flat and people won't fall off.  He moves his shovel at the last minute and we say Hi as I go past.  He's a good skier.  The t-bar makes a jangling noise as it  goes past one of the posts holding the cable; I love that sound - it makes me smile and hum a little song.  As I get close to post number five, I make sure my skiis are in the track properly and both hands are holding on - one holding the bar and the other the edge of the crossbar.  Sure enough, as I pass by this bar near the top of the hill, I get lifted out of the track - just a little - wheee!  It's fun when I'm on by myself.  Sometimes I'll even give a little hop so that it lifts me a bit higher!  And already now I'm at the top.  Jim is up here today with his dog, a red Irish Setter named Red.  His dog wears a bandana; I haven't seen dogs with bandanas before Red, except in pictures.  I hear the whoosh as I take the bar from behind me and make sure it doesn't swing, even a little bit, so that Jim doesn't have to do a thing.  I smile and say hi, and turn right, over to Otter Slide.

I pause at the top of the hill to pick my line, decide which way I'll go.  I love the way there are dips all over the hill, it's not just wide and flat.  There are trees to ski around, not too many but just enough.  There are bumps too, that if you know how to hit just right you will catch some air.  Someone has been out before me, I can see their tracks - the hill has been groomed recently and it's just like corduroy.  Perfect.  Even here the sun is making the snow all sparkly and I know my eyes will water once I get started, but that's okay.  I pull my hat down a little lower and my scarf up a little higher and then I push off.  It's just like flying.  I'm free, I'm soaring all over the hill, I'm making my own tracks, I'm going fast and my nose is cold and I don't care.

Winter Adventure Part 1 - Mrs. Z

Mrs. Zroback is my grade 4 teacher.  She used to scare me a little.  She spanked Gloria in the back of the classroom one time because Gloria was talking back, and that scared me.  I never talk back.  Mrs. Z. taught some of my older brothers and sisters, so when it was my turn for grade 4 she already knew what to expect from me.

Mrs. Zroback is not much taller than me.  She always dresses really nice like my Mom in a dress or skirt.  She has reddish gray hair and glasses, and sometimes she takes my school bus to get home.  She sits by herself on the bus, in the front seat behind the driver.  With her school bag on her lap, she looks straight out the window. I wonder what she's thinking of?  Maybe the Times Tables.  I think she likes to get home to play outside, just like I do, and I'll tell you why.  Because her husband is Scouter Nick.  He is the leader for the boy scouts and they get to do the Best Things!  Like make a campfire and sleep outside in a tent when it's not even Summer and not even in the Back Yard!  My older brothers all know Scouter Nick and really like going to scouts.  So with somebody like that around, you can't help but like to play outside.

Mrs. Zroback asked me to come up to her desk at lunchtime one day and I was afraid maybe I did something bad.  But instead, she asked me if I would like to go Ice Fishing with her and Scouter Nick!  On the Weekend!  I said I would have to ask my Mom first but yes, I would really like to go.  She said there would be another girl about my age to play with, and we would all be camping!  Overnight! In a Tent!  In the winter!  I was so excited I could hardly wait to get home to ask my mom.

The weekend is finally here.  I have all of my warmest clothes on, and spare ones packed.  I have borrowed my brothers warmest sleeping bag, and I am ready to go.  My Dad drops me off at my teacher's house up the Airport Road, and they are already outside and ready to go, waiting just for me.  Scouter Nick has a big skidoo that pulls a big toboggan behind it, and it is all packed and organized.  I wonder for a minute if I'll have to ride in the toboggan too, but after popping my bag in, Scouter Nick covers over the whole thing with a tarp to keep the snow out, and ties it down.

Mrs. Zroback has her own skidoo.  She looks so different from how I know her at school, wearing her skidoo suit, boots and helmet. The front of her skidoo says "The Galloping Grandma", and I realize I didn't know she had kids, never mind grandkids.  She gives me a helmet to wear (a little bit too big), and I put it on over my toque and buckle it up.  It feels really heavy on my head, but it's nice and warm in here and even a little quiet.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked me, smiling, her eyes sparkling and crinkling up from behind the helmet visor and her glasses.  I smile back, nodding, the helmet slipping down a little over my eyes and almost putting me off-balance.

"Okay, it will be a really long ride, so you'll have to hang on tight.  If you need me to stop, just tap me on the shoulder."

I stand beside the machine as she kneels on the seat, both hands on the pull cord.  She gives a couple of quick, easy pulls and her machine roars to life, the sound muffled by my helmet.  Scouter Nick has already started his machine, and is patiently waiting for us just at the edge of  the back yard, where the trees fill in thick except for one narrow trail leading into the dark forest.  Although it's a beautiful sunny day, it's really cold out and the snow is dry and squeeky.  We've had lots of snow this winter, and the trees with their white coats are thick in the woods.

With a nod from Mrs. Z, I pop on the back of the snow machine.  It occurs to me that I've never sat this close to my teacher before, and I'm hoping that I won't be in the way or make it hard for her to steer.  As we slowly pull away from the house and yard, I wiggle around a little bit as I search for and find the handles to hang on to.   I thread my mitts through and hang on, excited for my adventure to begin.

As we enter the trail the trees are so close I could just reach out and touch them - but I don't think I should let go.  It's kind of hard looking out sideways at everything going by me so fast and so I try peeking over Mrs. Z's shoulder, but it's just too high.  I spend some time inspecting the blue material of her skidoo suit, looking at the pattern the threads make, and the way the light blinks on and off as we drive through sunshine and shadows.  I'm nice and warm here behind Mrs. Z, she blocks most of the wind from me and my boots are still warm and dry.  The noise from the machine makes me want to hum along and so I do.  As the trail winds it's way through the trees, the skidoo noise goes up and down as we speed up and slow down, and makes a nice little tune for humming along to.  This is perfect for day-dreaming and so I pretend that I am an orphan and I am with my new family who is going to take me into the wilderness to live with them and help them survive.

We go for what seems like hours through the woods, weaving through the trees, up and over hillsides.  When we get to the first lake, Scouter Nick stops his skidoo and we stop behind him.  With the skidoos suddenly quiet, the magic of the humming and the daydreaming evaporates.  Scouter Nick gets off the skidoo and walks over to talk to us, his beard all frosty. I can't see any other tracks on the lake, and I wonder how he knows where to go.

"There might be some slush on the lake," he said to Mrs. Z, "so we won't be stopping on the lake at all.  Just make sure you don't follow too closely, and stay on my track.  How are things back here?"

Mrs. Z nods and then turns to me with a smile, "I had to reach back a few times to make sure you were still there!   Just give me a tap now and then, would you, so I know you haven't fallen off?"

I nod and smile back, pleased that I wasn't getting in the way, and then look over at Scouter Nick.

"How do you know which  way to go on the lake?  It's so big and it all looks the same to me, all that white..."

Scouter Nick smiles his big smile, tanned leather and wrinkly, and then points just ahead of his skidoo to the lake.  I can see a bit of green poking up out of the snow, like a branch or something that had blown onto the lake from the bush.

"See that evergreen branch?  If you look ahead, you'll see more of them.  The first people across the lake mark the safe trail so that others can follow.  Tracks disappear in the wind and snow, but the green branches show the way."

Sure enough - as I squint out at the brightness of the sunshine on snow, I can make out a dark dotted trail of branches leading out, away from the shore.  So it wasn't a random branch after all, but a path set out by someone who had gone before.  What a neat idea!

"Are you warm enough?" Mrs. Z asks me as Scouter Nick heads back over to his skidoo.

"Yes," I nod, and she nods back and turns to start the skidoo.  I wait for her to get the machine started again, then pop back on behind her.  As we head out on the lake I watch for the branches.  There aren't that many, just enough to keep you going the right way.  We go through a few slushy spots, and I can see why we don't want to stop in them. The machines could get stuck in the slush pretty easily, plus we wouldn't want to get our boots slushy wet.

We stop a couple of more times - once for Scouter Nick to chainsaw a tree that had fallen and blocked the trail.  Just as I was wondering how we were going to get around the fallen tree in the thick bush, Scouter Nick went to the toboggan trailing behind his skidoo and uncovered a chainsaw.  He is truly ready for Everything.  Mrs. Z and I help by pulling the cut branches off of  the trail, and in no time at all we are back on our way.  The second stop is at a creek bubbling along beside the trail.  It is a good size creek that isn't frozen right over, and the water is moving really quickly over the icy rocks and logs.  Scouter Nick got off his skidoo and knelt beside the freezing cold water, working at something there with his hands.  I wasn't sure what he was doing, so I asked Mrs. Z.

"He's checking his traps," she said, simply.

I wondered about what he was trapping, and why, and with what, and how it all works, but I had no time to ask as, finding them empty, we continued on.

As much as I love a skidoo ride of any duration, I am starting to wonder if we are EVER going to get there - where ever "there" is. Then, as quickly as the ride started, it is over.  We had just crossed another lake and I figured we were starting onto another trail when both skidoos suddenly stopped.  As I step off into the snow, I now can see that there are 4 other skidoos already here, and a path leading through the deep snow away from them and into the woods.  We're Here!

Snow Fort (Winter Magic)

There's been lots of snow this winter.  The snow banks in the yard are getting really big, bigger than me, bigger than my dad's car!  There are never enough shovels to go around.  I like to help to shovel too, but the shovel is really heavy and after I push it down the driveway once and it gets full of snow, then I can't even lift it so my brothers take it away from me again.  There's another really great thing about all of that snow and all that shoveling... snow forts!

Phillip and Paul and Tom built the most amazing snow fort in the yard.  They had some friends over and I saw them all working on it from the living room window so I asked my mom if I could go outside to play too.  "Of course," she said.  "Just be sure you dress up warm, it's 20 below today."

I already knew it was cold because I had just pulled myself up on the kitchen sink to peek through the window at the thermometer outside to check.  Yep, it was 20 below, but it was also nice and sunny outside and the snow was sparkling.  I could tell the snow would be crunchy and squeaky.  I ran into my room and put on my tights first, so that when the snow got into my boots my ankles wouldn't be too cold.  Then pants, sweater, another pair of socks.

Into the kitchen to dig through all the snowsuits in the closet to find my snowpants and coat.  Breadbags to put my sock feet into first (to help keep them dry) before I put on my skidoo boots.  Toque next, and scarf, and - "Mom, are there any dry mitts?"

"Oh yes, I'll get you a pair from the living room, I put a pair on the register from when you were out yesterday."

Yay!  Nice warm mitts, fresh from the heat blowing through the hot air register.

"Can you tuck them in for me?"

It's quite a production to get everything on to go outside when it's really cold, to make sure that the warm can't get out and the cold can't get in.  It's a delicate balance between being warm enough and not being able to move because of the layers and layers of clothes.

Finally I'm ready and out I go, ready to have fun in that beautiful snow fort.  I stand on the front step and blink while my eyes, peeking out from between my hat and scarf, get used to the sunlight reflecting off the snow.

"Hey can I come in and see the fort?" I call over to Phillip and Paul as I run over, my pant legs zip-zopping as I go.  Tom is nowhere to be seen, I guess that he's inside the fort, doing some inside work.  Phil looks at me, sort of shakes his head and goes back to work.  It's Paul that stops me in my tracks.  He's next older to me, and he's always bossing me around.

"No, you'll wreck it," he says with a scowl.

"I'll tell on you!" I say, my favourite retort.

"Hmph, don't you touch it, or you'll be sorry."

I go back over to the house, and peek in the door.

"Mom!" I call, she's not in the kitchen anymore, "MOM!"

"Close the door, you're letting all the cold in!"

Back inside I go, making sure I stay on the mat at the door with my wet boots.  I explain the last 5 minutes to my mom who appears to be searching for more mittens.  John and Francis are getting ready to come outside too, and I know what's coming next...

"Take John and Francis with you when you go back outside, okay?  And tell the other boys that you should all play in the fort."

I help find all the bits and pieces and wrap them up so they won't get cold.  Francis' cheeks are getting redder and redder as he works on getting his boots on, all other layers are already on and he's overheating.

"C'mon out, let's see what they're doing in the fort," I say, thinking that maybe they will be the tickets that get me in.

This time, when we go over to the fort the big boys are all inside, and someone is sitting in the door with their back facing out.  They are pretending they don't hear us.

I consider climbing up the outside wall of the fort, but I know that would get me into A Lot of Trouble, and I only just got outside so I don't want that to happen.  I take Francis and John on a little hike around the yard; the game is that they have to step in only my tracks so I take REALLY BIG steps and then really small steps.  Then I make a snow angel.  They're supposed to do a snow angel in my snow angel, but as soon as I hit the snow, they do too.  It's a snow angel festival!  John looses a boot when we all get back up, so I help him find it and get the snow out, and get it all back on and tucked in again.  Then we wander back over to the fort.  This time, the big boys are outside again.

Paul calls over, "Hey John and Francis, want to see the fort?"

I am so mad I can hardly see straight - this is boys against ME, and I can't win.  Francis and John don't need to be asked twice, they are racing over to the fort like two little seals on the ice, diving and disappearing into the fort.  I march straight back to the house and go into the kitchen, while John and Francis are welcomed into the beautiful ice cavern in our yard.

"Mommmm, they won't let me play!  The big boys let John and Francis in, but they won't let me in the fort, too!.... hey, what are you making?"

My mom smiles and passes me a beater full of cookie dough.  YUM!  Hey... I have an idea...

A minute later, I'm back outside the snow fort.  Just outside the door.  And I KNOW that they can hear me.  "Yum, yum, there's nothing like a nice warm chocolate chip cookie on a cold and bright sunny day!"

I was right, Paul pops his head out of the fort, "What are you doing?"

"Nothing, just having a cookie... mmmmm," I say, my fingers starting to get colder as the cookie gets smaller.

"Can we have one, too?" he asks.

"Only if you let me in the fort!"

Inside the fort is beautiful, just like I imagined.  The walls glow a soft light where they are just a bit thinner and the sunshine leaks through.  We are all lined up around the inside of the cavern, our boots meeting in the middle, a little cramped but that's okay.  Tom has put a candle in a spot on one of the walls, but it's not lit.

I tell them how great their fort is, and they agree.  We all enjoy mom's cookies, and there's not a crumb left over.