An invitation to explore winter trails by Willa Freer

There was a long time in my teenage and young adult years when I so looked forward to winter because it meant that I didn’t have to leave my couch very often – to play a sport (I was a spring and fall athlete), to do yard work (my parents LOVED to garden), or otherwise be told to “get outside and do something” (in my defense I was and still am a voracious reader – hence the couch). I also simply loved, as I still do, the cozy nature of a warm home while a raging biting winter stormed outside – I relished how my little family spent more time in one room talking or reading or watching TV without the Spring/Summer/Fall pressure TO DO. I avoided wandering outside in the cold like I avoided serious talks about “my future” and was perfectly content with that rhythm. I would not choose to take a walk, let alone a run, on a deep winter day unless I had just eaten too much Turkey or someone had made an event out of it – maybe a stroll of a crisp beach while visiting my parents, wandering down the streets to compare Christmas decorations, or a climb up to the top of a local hill. We would put on layers (usually too many and forgot the gloves) and head out without enough water to meet the goal of coming back inside to be warm and rosy and drinking hot cocoa with a feeling of freezing accomplishment and superiority over those who refused to take off their pj’s. But then I followed my boyfriend to Montana and my future husband taught me to ski and snowshoe and layer appropriately and suddenly I could enjoy being an athlete in the cold like never before.
Now I am the woman who wakes up with the owls before 5am to put on a headlamp and run gratefully down a dark freezing trail with friends, seeing only a few glowing animal eyes, our breath leading the way, and hoping to see a golden sunrise. These paths are my winter paradise, but they are not as smooth or wide as a rail trail or a fire road (trail shoes and a walking stick are helpful); are often through State Forest Land (yes you are allowed - wear your orange); and you may be nervous that they wander into a dead end or private property or simply into an uncomfortable unfamiliar (try the All Trails App so you feel more centered), but these paths are worth the little adventure and nothing can go so wrong that one cannot simply pause and turn around (always tell someone where you are going and when you plan to be back). I also find that having not just the water and snack with me, but the hot coffee or cocoa in the car waiting as well, makes even the coldest time in the woods a bit more enjoyable for everyone.

If you are new to wandering locally, perhaps start off in a preserve such as Clarence Shock Memorial Park in Mt Gretna, where trails are well marked and mapped. Most people head up the fire road to Gov Dick Tower or enjoy the new deck off the Nature Center, but you will walk away from the parking lot, back toward Pinch Rd, and slip off to the left at Trail 15. Keep following the path to the left and ring the bell for joy and nature and those that have come before; marvel at how quickly you are stepping over and through boulders, noticing the regal calm beauty of bare trees against a grey sky; and feeling simply quietly away. Then, in a few minutes, you can turn left onto Trail 4 and head back to the Nature Center by a quick left again or take 4 and then 1 all the way up to the Tower making a short lollipop loop that is only a brief deviation from the usual, but a world apart in experience.
It is the nature of winter months to be busy and full of all the good (and not so good) noise of family, friends, sports, and life spent more closely indoors. It is also the time of year, however, when nature is at her most sleepy, quiet, and empty – when a brave squirrel sounds like three deer charging through the trees and the loudest echo is your own intrusive giant step coming down on the crisply frosted leaves. I hope that you enjoy the cozy warmth inside this winter, this is wonderful and good, but I have learned that there are even greater gifts given to us by the outdoors – particularly in our local winter woods on a regular Saturday midmorning or Tuesday sunrise, or Friday late afternoon chasing the light away from the wide usual path; testing the close quiet of the less traveled single track trails that often branch and can seem forbidden or unusual, but offer an otherworldly solitude and silence only steps away from the familiar.
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