Embracing the Four Seasons, Mostly Winter

EMBRACING THE FOUR SEASONS – MOSTLY WINTER  

February/March, 2009 issue

There were times when I felt felt like the Pied Piper of Hamelin as I trudged along on a well established trail at the H.R. Frink Centre north of Belleville on one memorable hike some years back. There weren’t 130 as in the famous folk tale, but there were well over 40, and on a winter walk, that is indeed an encouraging number. This was only one of numerous walks that I conduct through the winter months. I try to work in any guided hikes before the end of February, for soon it is March, and a time  when the weather begins to flirt with rising temperatures and signs of spring.
 
 I would have to search hard to remember a winter that I have enjoyed more this year, albeit very cold during that unforgettable week in mid January. In fact, it was so cold, I developed frostbite in my cheeks, and had to give up my 6:00 a.m. morning walk for a few days. I have cross country skied, I have snow-shoed, and the weather each time was what hikers fantasize about. In each case, below freezing, but not so cold as to take away the enjoyment of the experience. We had a few major snowfalls, and we have had overnight dustings, ideal for brushing up on animal tracks. The other morning, I was following a set of dog or coyote tracks down the road I walk every day. The two are difficult to distinguish, and I have never been able to confidently separate them, but the gait suggested a coyote. However, meandering alongside were the perfect imprints of a fisher. It isn’t often we get to see field guide quality prints in the snow like this, but it is something we can often see early in the morning, before traffic begins, and if conditions are correct. The question of who was following whom remains. Only Davy Crocket and Daniel Boone could do that.
 
Winter walks are special, for it is then we hear the sounds of winter – rumbling ice, great horned owls hooting as they prepare to nest, coyotes howling in the distance, and trees creaking in the breeze. All good sounds.  It is a time when trees, now bare of their leaves and etched against the winter sky, reveal a story of their struggle against the elements. In winter we find several such silver maples on our walks, old and twisted, some with burls, and others with loose flaking bark. Unhappy trees. But there are others with smooth tight bark, straight and tall. Happy trees.
 
Peterborough Examiner columnist Doug Sadler, who passed away early this winter at the age of 92, and who wrote for almost 50 years in the same paper, is a man from whom we could all gain some inspiration. He embraced winter, actively winter camping in his younger days, and became an authority on its offerings. He enthusiastically penned columns on aspects of winter most of us routinely overlook – about winter insects, identification of plant remains and winter wildlife, and devoted an entire section in one book on ice, of all things. He saw beauty and inspiration in the season, and captured the abstract in outstanding photos. I have one of his books and I read it often, hoping to acquire some of the same wisdom that this man gleaned from his intimate relationship with the outdoors for so many years. He joined me at a table during a dinner meeting in Peterborough four years ago where I was guest speaker, and during my presentation I paid tribute to this person who had contributed so much to our understanding of the four seasons, especially winter.
 
Has his work fallen on deaf ears and blind eyes? Perhaps kids today should curl up with one of his books and gain the same inspiration I did, for we surely do not see them outdoors in winter in the same numbers we once did. The electronic age is luring far too many people, young and old, indoors during weather that is anything but warm and balmy. I have such memories of a once popular hillside at a conservation area on the outskirts of Picton, absolutely seething with kids on toboggans and sleds of every description. There are still a few today, but certainly not the bustling hill it once was, filled with the excited screams and laughter of kids sledding down a hill that was definitely not for the faint of heart. Is it only the snowmobiler, sled dog racers and those who frequent ski resorts the only people left who truly appreciate what winter has to offer?
 
Years ago, I trudged through deep snow at Presqu’ile Provincial Park, out along a finger of land thick with white cedars that reached into the cattail marshes, thinking I was all alone, except for a few chickadees. Rounding a bend, I came across an entire family of adults and their kids, gathered around enjoying lunch and hot chocolate. We need to see this kind of winter embracement again, and you can find it, here and there, but it needs to unite and perpetuate. If we drive to Algonquin this month, we can still find it, at the Mew Lake Campground, where hardy campers can be found sprinkled throughout the campsites. One Mississauga couple we came across last winter had just emerged from a small tent where they had spent the night in absolutely frigid temperatures. As they prepared breakfast over a campfire, they volunteered that they would not have missed this experience for the world.