Snowshoeing in Cantwell

I'd like to think of myself as an outdoors guy. However, I'm more of a short-shorts, let's-get-down-to-business, suns-out-guns-out type of an outdoors guy. In other words: it better be summer when I go hiking or when I do anything arduous and physical like hiking, biking, swimming, sports-ing.

But here's the sitch: sometimes, you have to take risks and do something different. What is a life without any struggle, without any change, without any development, right? So when my friends Heni and Jessica invited me to go snowshoeing with them, I went against my better self, and my best self said "Yeah, why not?"

Alum and fixer-upper-extravaganza Kenzie gifted me with these snowshoes during her move out of Fairbanks. She had no use for them anymore and thought I'd give them a spin. (Thanks again, Kenz, you beautiful angel.) –– Heni bought her own snowshoes, and Jessica had her own set of skiis. ** Fun fact: If you don't have equipment, the Outdoor Adventures Office will! Just check with their office and see what's available! 

Anyways –– Heni, Jessica, and I drove all the way to Cantwell, which is about a three-hour trip on an icy day. We got there in two. I was reading The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck the whole time, intently attempting to not fall asleep. (I had my contacts on, and it would've been a bad idea.) Once at the site, we wandered around for a good hour –– approximately 3 miles –– then we looped back. I didn't fall once. I was so proud of myself, but at the same time I don't think I was snowshoeing correctly. My body was warm; my legs and arms were warm; my feet felt like they were webbed like a swans. Snowshoes survived too. A for Effort. 

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