No Off Season - Backpacking in Winter

I Zipped my hardshell up over three puffy layers and jumped out of our Tahoe, into the crisp cold, to join the rest of the weekend crew. We shared the trailhead parking lot with a plow truck. I knew there would be sub-freezing temperatures and potential drizzly conditions but nothing about a snow storm had been on the radar. Had I misread the forecast? To late now, we were already here. Standing next to my sister, I pulled my pack over my shoulders and clipped it around my waist. We walked ahead to where both of our husbands stood, waiting by the white trail blaze which mark the Appalachian Trail. Together, we hiked into the snowy cloud encompassing the mountain. 

 Our plans were to hike the Three Ridges Loop, located in the George Washington National Forest, which is only about 14 miles in total. The trip had come up last minute and would be a short one. One night along the trail and two days of hiking would be the extent of this weekend backpacking adventure. Even still, we had nervously watched the rain prediction continue to rise during the days leading up to our Friday departure. We had spent the week tossing back and forth the same questions, "You guys still want to go? Is it worth it?" Finally, Friday morning had arrived and a text from my sister confirmed the unanimous vote that, with the right gear, we would go - good weather or bad.  

As we climbed the first mountain, the trail before us slowly transformed into a winter wonderland. A sharp edge of frost outlined the windward ridge-line. It felt like we had jumped into a Christmas claymation. The strands of hair, not tucked into my beanie, were wet from the damp air. But, other than my exposed nose, I was toasty under my excessive layers. The wind picked up as the trail climbed and weaved along the mountain peaks. Snowy crystals covered every dormant plant and ice hung in the shape of water droplets from the leaves of trees. The terrain, though, had our muscles burning and we each took turns stopping along the trail to shed layers. I listened to my heart pounding in my ears and took a deep breath. If anything, it felt good just to be outside, challenging myself, and having a blunt reminder of what it feels like to be a live being. Even more precious, was the gift of sharing what I loved, with the people I loved. The cold, damp conditions and fogged view points were the last thing on my mind.    

Every time I step into the stillness of nature, I learn something new.  It’s one of the many things that continue to draw me back. It can be easy, in the wintertime, to fall stagnant, wishing the days away in hopes of better weather. But, you miss out on a lot of precious moments that way. This short trip reinforced in me the notion that we can stop waiting for the “prime” time to go. Besides, the “prime” time may never arrive. After all, we are talking about nature here; She is always changing – it’s one of her greatest features. If we don’t appreciate the entirety of her elements we miss out on a vast majority of her character. Yes, wet conditions aren’t the best for starting a campfire, but there is nothing better than falling asleep to the pitter-patter of rain dancing on a tent roof.  The same could be said for backpacking trips in the winter. Perhaps, not the prime season or the most comfortable conditions but for every con, a pro can also be found. There is no time more “prime” than the present. With the right gear, “off-season” is nonexistent in the Outdoors.