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Snowshoeing with a friend,
c.1910. It's a walk in the park! |
First, I should explain about skiing. I don't. I didn't, even when I did several decades ago. I am
amazingly bad at Alpine-style skiing. (I'm extremely good at falling.) Some of it is because I'm as coordinated as a duck on land, and some of it is because I have a real fear of heights, which translates to "Oh my God, I'm going to slide right off this mountain!" I can
almost manage the tiniest beginner slope--the one toddlers start on--without falling.
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Your grandma's snowshoes.
Old-fashioned but efficient. |
That inability to slide down a mountain with a couple sticks tied to my feet does not mean that I dislike the mountains or snow. I love the cold, crisp air and deep blue skies of a sunny day in the mountains, and as long as I don't have to shovel it, I think snow is pretty amazing. That's one of the real joys of living in California: as long as we get a "typical" wet winter, there's lots of snow in the Sierras, the Tehachapis, the San Gabriels, and the San Bernardino mountains, and I can be up to my expectations in white stuff in just a couple hours.
So, if Alpine-style skiing is out, what else can a girl do, beyond making snow angels? Two activities come to mind: snowshoeing, and cross-country (aka "Nordic-style") skiing. Neither involves sliding at some rate of speed, both are relatively easy (and inexpensive) to learn and do, and there are good places to do either within a couple hours of home.
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Modern snowshoes.
Strap 'em on and off you go! |
Snowshoeing has changed a lot in the last 40 years. Where "snowshoeing" once meant strapping something like tennis rackets to your winter boots, then hoping you didn't get your tails crossed up, modern snowshoes are more like miniature snowboards and clip right onto your boots. Add a set of trekking poles with snow baskets, and you're off on a hike. (Of course, if you're into the more traditional, Faber still makes snowshoes).
The equipment for cross-country skiing hasn't changed as much as the clothing. Where cross-country skiing was once a slower, more "genteel" way of skiing, it now features skin-tight spandex more often seen on winter runners and cyclists. That makes sense--cross-country skiing is often described as "jogging with skis"--but the basic equipment hasn't changed: long, skinny skis with lightweight ski boots.
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| Cross-country skiing, c.1910. |
So how do we "roll back time," while still making something that is suitable for a day in the snow? Simple: we look at pictures. Lots of pictures. Fortunately, the rise of leisure activities coincided with the rise of simple photography for the masses, so there's a lot of material. I'm finding a decent number of exuberant young (and not so young) people having fun in the snow at the beginning of the 20th century. There's also some reading to do: contemporary travel guide recommendations; diaries; and letters. Finally, there's simply common sense: what works and what doesn't. My internal thermostat is set fairly high, so the layers need to be light enough to prevent overheating, but warm enough to prevent hypothermia.
My list of what's needed:
- A layer of cotton, silk, or lightweight wool underthings
- A lightweight athletic corset that allows me to move and breathe
- A light wool "base layer" (e.g., a long-sleeved, high-necked sweater; wool bloomers or jodhpurs)
- A medium wool "outer layer (e.g., an appropriate jacket and skirt)
- Waterproof gaiters
- Waterproof boots
- Gloves
- A dashing hat
- Appropriate winter athletic equipment (snowshoes; cross-country skis; trekking poles; etc.)
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