March at Last

Life in the rural Northeast is more pleasant, fuller, more meaningful, for people who refuse to hibernate. As I've said before, and as many a wise person has said before me, if you're going to enjoy life here, you can't let the weather stop you from doing anything. Camping, kayaking, hiking. Do it regardless of the weather...(unless there's freezing rain; that stuff'll kill you). That's why--for the first time ever--I hiked all winter this year. In previous years, I stayed in during the winter and only began to hit the trails again in late March.

But there are two problems with that timorous "hibernating" approach to outdoor life: 1) March is really the worst month for hiking because the trails and forest roads are packed down with slippery, melting snow, and 2) by the time you actually get back out into the woods, in March, you've been cooped up so long that you need the perfect wilderness experience so desperately that a short scrambling slide on an ice-packed path is going to disappoint you sorely.

Last week on A Prairie Home Companion, Garrison Keillor said that "March is to show people who don't drink what a hangover is like." I know that there are still temps in the teens ahead of us, and probably more snow. But if you dig beneath the snow in about a week, you'll probably find the coltsfoot already in bloom. There's pollen in the air. And there are bugs, and moths, and insects out skipping across the snow.