My frozen Ice Hole

Possibly the last winter of my discontent–with this part of the planet. Fremont Lake is literally a ten minute drive from my front door. But that’s after an hour of shoveling the walks so I can get to my four-wheel drive.

I love the rugged terrain of the Rockies, the frozen tundras, the wildlife, the air. If I could have all the above and be comfortable in flip-flops and a tank top, then I’d probably be in heaven but this paradise is not for the tender of foot.

I dress to survive here. Wool and big boots better be part of the attire or you die.

One winter I ran my truck on empty for about a half hour hoping to make it home before I ran out completely … was wearing a suit, dress socks, coming home from a wedding and realized that should I actually run out of gas and have to hoof it home in sub-zero temps, in dress shoes and a suit jacket, that I’d be found stiff as a push pop before I got a mile.

I’ve spent two months in BC this winter,  opting for coastal fog and perpetual drizzle over the blanket of snow my hometown seems to curl up in for five or six months a year.

I’ve decided my next move is to explore the Philippines in March and April. With nothing but a carry-on, and  those forgotten flip-flops, I’ll be floating in a warm ocean, instead of walking on frozen water.