I’ve been wanting to try out my new snowshoes, so I decided that this week was the time. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch goes the snow under my feet in the forest near my home in Ironwood as it packs under my snowshoes. I’ve only hit a couple trails so far, but I’m already in love with the sport of snowshoeing!
I’m not alone in my love for snowshoeing. Its popularity has soared in the last decade, yet it’s not for everyone.
In fact, I’ve heard the following story about a local man: One day Jim was sick and tired of winter so he tied his snow shoes on the top of his car and drove south. When he got to Chicago he pulled over and asked if anyone knew what was on top of his car. Someone said, “Aren’t they snow shoes?”
“Youbetcha,” he replied and got back in his car then drove further south. Finally he got to Boynton Beach, Florida and pulled into a gas station. Pointing to the roof of his car, he asked, “Do you know what these are?” And Billy Bob said, “No sir.” “Thank god”, the man said “I think I’ll make this town my home.”
Later that week he had a flat tire and went back to the gas station. “I don’t see Billy Bob anywhere, do you know where he is?”
The station attendant replied, “The last time I saw Billy he was headed north with a surfboard tied to the roof of his car.”