I zipped home after work today… the dogs were all excited…
How did they know I yanked my cross country skis out of storage?
It was going to be a gamble that my ski boots would even fit me, it seems my feet keep growing… but, yup! I lucked out and could fit into them still!
Sweet!
I’m not sure the dogs have even seen me cross country ski… about the time there’s enough snow and/or I have enough time (read: after the holidays), the fields are full of cattle.
Calves here, cows there… bulls over here.
Cross country skis and frozen piles of manure are just not made for each other.
But, aha! I now live at the Mills Place, and the bulls we have here are a field away!
So, the question remained… could I cross country ski after all these years? (When I wasn’t that great at it before?)
Yes.
I could.
I did.
I stopped often to take pictures… pant, pant… and I’m pretty pitiful at the process… but, hey.
I was out. The dogs were out. Canada geese and bald eagles and one lone jet flew over. One owl hooted from the brush and the dogs cornered something for a while. I’d say it was a pretty successful outing!
