Having passed through the fire of a tested and feeling freedom in my liberation from school for a three day weekend, I was eager for rejuvenation. So myself and friend drove up the north shore with our cross country skis on hand. As we drove fresh snow hanging from the trees grew in thickness while we noticed 4 inches lay on the ground.
Looking for groomed trails we found fresh corduroy along the Cascade River. I was outfitted by my friend with classic gear. I hadn't classic skied since I was 17 and even then it was sporadic at best. I awkwardly applied kick wax and skied away. My technique was clumsy and uncoordinated. My ability to get kick was poor. We threw on some warmer wax and I was on my way. My reintroduction was 8 km of climbing without rest from the incline. I was breathing heavy and feeling my legs were working different muscle than skate. Soon enough the groomed trails ended and we continued on. The trees rained snow as the wind blew it from their branches.
ungroomed powder trail. Following the leadership of my friend we trudged down the steep banks to the river. With caution we skied along the river. As the banks became stone and river constricted, I stopped and listened. You could hear the ominous roar of the water in the depths and under the ice. We stopped on the precipice of the water fall entitled "Chastity". We climb back up the bank and skied back to the car.
We stopped to check out Onion River road on the drive home but it was lathered in 4 inches of ungroomed powder. We instead pulled into the Coho Cafe and ate a hardy meal before heading home to Duluth. It was all that I needed to be ready for the rigors of the week ahead.