I’ve had some exhilarating experiences on snow, but it’s been a volatile relationship. I’ve been unnerved by the stuff in Japan and the U.S., and I’m also not very tolerant of prolonged or extreme cold. Where most other hikers on the PCT last year claimed to love the High Sierra, I couldn’t wait to get back down on solid, clearly discernible ground. Switzerland in early winter was the setting for an occasionally testing but always magical reacquaintance. Advertisements
December 2010. I’m a morning person, and it can be a lonesome predilection. I open the balcony blinds and with my coffee step out into the jolting cold of a winter dawn. Everything Is shockingly, dazzlingly white: the street, the parked cars, the lawn where I was once death-stared by the old man upstairs for the crime of lawn-walking.