The day was so beautiful- with at least four inches of freshly fallen snow- that we decided only a national forest could quell our appetites. So we drove a couple of miles off Montezuma Road to White River National Forest for some snow-shoeing.
Snake River gurgled alongside the road. Finally, we pulled off to get a closer look. Hot darn!
How could we say "no" to such a scene?
Fortunately, Ratpaw showed up in his rental car with his brand new snowshoes and some chocolate in his pockets. "Why don't we walk along Snake River?" he chirped. And so we did.
The King led the way; he just couldn't help himself.
But the trail he was following was not the one I preferred (not at the moment, at least, when HE was leading us down it).
So, I went my own way, keeping watch on my snow-shoeing comrades from behind the branches.
Snake River's water was that blue-green that always reminds me of limestone quarries or rocks nearby. I watched the guys traipse through the thick mounds of snow, only the crunching sound of their snowshoes pressing into that crisp outer layer of ice surrounding the powder.
Just before the official trail ended, our paths crossed again.
The only trail left to follow was the one left by this creature friend, whom Ratpaw took to be a snowshoe hare or perhaps a fox.
We witnessed such beautiful things- frost-covered fringes hanging along the banks of Snake River.
But the costly hours of ski school ticked away...
And Ratpaw got into a fight with a small, frozen shrub.
Sometimes falling is the best way to end things.
