
Last Tuesday, our hiking group, The Tuesday Trekkers, made our plan for our weekly hike. The week before had brought snow to the area, snow unlike we’ve seen in some time. Often when it snows here it is a one-day event. Sometimes a huge amount of snow falls, and sometimes not, but usually because of our dry climate, the snow is light and fluffy. As we like to say with a wink, it’s a dry cold here.
However, last week the snow surprised us on Monday, and with the exception of Tuesday when there was a little reprieve, it continued to surprise us Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and even a little bit on Sunday. By the end of the week, even in the city, we had well over a foot. The roads were treacherous for driving a few of those days and the temperatures dipped into the ‘not fit for man or beast, and very few women’ category.
Yet this past Monday, the day after the snow finally stopped, we checked the weather forecast for the following day, our hiking day. Looking at it through the most optimistic lens we could find, we decided we could manage a hike on Tuesday. After all, even though the overnight temperatures were to be in the negative teens, the day itself was promised to be the warmest we’d had for a while. We have warm clothes, good emergency supplies, and great common sense, so when we paired those with our need to get out in the forest together, there was no question about whether we’d go. The only questions were when and how far.
We usually like to get an early start, for many reasons. In the warm months, this is the coolest time of the day. Additionally, the light is so beautiful first thing in the morning, and the animals are often stirring at this time of day, so we look forward to catching glimpses of them on our way out of town. However, at this time of year, as we count down the weeks to the shortest days of the year, we prefer to wait until we have a bit of light before heading out. Pam especially, has to drive through countryside prolific with moose, elk and deer, and not only are they tough to spot in the dark, but our vehicles don’t stop on a dime when the roads are snow and ice covered.
So last Tuesday, using all our reasoning power, we chose to meet in the parking lot near the trail head at nine o’clock. We could see that the sun would be up, and given the sun in the forecast, the air would be beginning to warm. Knowing some of the trails would have too much snow to be able to manage, we chose an area that most often has groomed trails, or at least well travelled ones.
You can imagine our surprise, and slight dismay, as we drove closer and closer to our destination. Instead of the car thermometer rising, as it normally would if we were travelling west with a slight warming trend promised, it dropped lower and lower until finally it hit -19°C, and then ‘rebounded’ to -18°C. When we met in the parking lot, we weren’t sure exactly what to do. Our normal cutoff for hiking is about -15°C, but lured by the promise of a warmup, we couldn’t help but be tempted. The forest was absolutely magical, with trees laden with snow and a blue sky emerging.
It was too cold to go far, but too beautiful to not go.
And so we did.
We chose a short route, knowing we could add on distance if the conditions changed. We appreciated the uphill start, as we tried to get warm blood to our fingers. Almost always we stop to take many photographs, but on this morning, our hands got too cold when we removed our mittens, and our bodies needed to keep moving to stay warm. Eventually we couldn’t resist. The forest was simply too beautiful to not capture some of it with pictures.
This ended up being one of our shorter hikes of all time. We were on the trail for just over two hours. Still, it was exactly what we each needed. It was time to connect with one another, to catch up on our lives, to lay down, even for just a short while, our jobs, pressures, worries, and responsibilities, to laugh, to breathe in fresh air and the beautiful smell of the forest, to marvel at the snow clinging to the branches, and to watch in awe as the smallest breath of wind caused a waterfall of snow.
It had definitely been too cold to go too far, but too beautiful to not go.
As I drove home, warming my fingers on my heated steering wheel and my rear end on my heated seat, I recalled that only a few hours earlier I’d been overwhelmed with all I needed to do. I had a couple of Christmas sewing projects I was desperately trying to finish on time, I had a coaching recertification test and hours of paperwork to complete, and I had …. on and on and on. But as I drove, I was grateful we had gone. I needed that time with these women. I needed a little reset. I needed the reminder that in this busy season of Christmas that now feels like it’s rushing toward us, there will be many times like this. Times when it is too much, when we are too busy, too tired, too overwhelmed and too frazzled.
I’m going to be reminding myself of this. I may be too busy to chat for long, but it is too important to not make that call. I may be too tired to do all of it, but it is too important to not do any of it. I may be too frazzled to go to one more event, but maybe I could manage just one event, or bits of several. In it all, I hope that sometimes, instead of thinking I have to do it all, and to be everywhere, I can remind myself that not only is it ok to do much less, but that sometimes doing less helps me appreciate the beauty, the friendships, and my family, even more.
The memories we make on short hikes are every bit as beautiful as those made on long ones.
My inquiry for you this week is, ‘How long does my hike need to be?’
Elizabeth is a certified professional Leadership Coach, and the owner of Critchley Coaching. She is the founder and president of the Canadian charity, RDL Building Hope Society. She works with corporations, non-profits and the public sector, providing leadership coaching. She creates and facilitates custom workshops for all sizes of groups and has expertise in facilitating Strategic Plans for organizations. Contact Elizabeth to learn how to find the perfect length of hike.