Curvy windy road in snow covered forest, top down aerial view.
If there is one thing that can ease the stress of being stranded by a surprise winter storm when traveling, it is getting to hang out with folks who are great storytellers.
This was the lucky situation for me last week when traveling to Fort Frances. After a bumpy landing in Thunder Bay amid blustery seventy-kilometer per hour winds, it was a quick ride to a hotel with the hopes of getting a room. Many other travelers had the same plan. The Trans-Canada Highway heading west was closed as was the 350 kilometer stretch of road to Fort Frances.
Many times the simplest things in life bring us great joy. For me, sharing time with dogs does that, and in particular, off leash hikes. Their pure joy in running and exploring is palpable, if not contagious.
We walk the perimeter of hayfields adjacent to our home property. I stay to the fields’ edge to avoid damaging the plants. Even in winter, my snowshoe trail is along the outer edges of the fields, the trail followed day after day. Making a nice trail makes the next days’ walk easier, and provides an easier path for a dog needing a rest from bashing through the snow. It’s in walking these trails I have come to realize… SSDD. Same step, different day.
This phenomenon is particularly evident in winter. If I walk randomly, the snowshoe falls in the same step as the day before. I’ve tried walking the opposite direction. Roughly the same thing happens. In summer, if I’m not careful I step in the same hole where there’s an underground rivulet. I’ve realized I’m experiencing the manifestation of “muscle memory”, and all the frustration it can produce. I’m sure on some level in an evolutionary sense, muscle memory ensured survival in that one could hone their spear throwing skills and become a successful hunter.
