A February polar vortex in Chicago paired with substantial snowfalls forced my outside activities inside for a few weeks. While hibernating, I longed to be outside, to unplug and to let my mind wander. You see the outdoors is an elixir, secret sauce and white space for my thoughts and ideas to roam and connect. Nature, my creativity playground, was hijacked temporarily by a frigid winter spell.
And then it happened. The cold snap moved on, leaving behind a veritable winter wonderland - a time-sensitive, frozen playground begging for exploration and expedition. My husband reserved a prime time slot at the Morton Arboretum, which required advanced preparation. After layering up performance clothing and packing snacks, it was time to gear up. I eagerly located our snowshoes and pulled out two decade-old specialized snowshoeing boots from the corner coat closet. Clearing away the dust bunnies and slipping on the knee-high boots, I went in search of hiking poles that were never found. Preparation for adventures is indeed an important first step.
First Outing: Morton Arboretum. Strapping on my show shoes, the vast white canvas awaited. Like an artist with paints and a brush, a decision of where to place the first strokes needed to be made. Make our own tracks or follow others? I started out making my own tracks, quickly assessing snow conditions and my personal ability to maintain that choice. Fresh snow means infinite possibilities. Following other tracks has its own challenges, as footwear imprints differ in size and depth, as well as stride length, depending on the previous trekker. Tracks mean you follow and also translate to a route that is easier and faster. Less than five minutes into my “make tracks” choice, I opted to find and join other tracks, leveraging the snow pack to lengthen the amount of time for our adventure before I ran out of personal gas. For the most part, my husband and I found and followed other tracks through the woods, around ponds, up hills and across bridges. The benefits: an easier trek, but I found I had to pause in order to look up at the scenery because I was too busy staring down at my feet to follow in tracks. We snowshoed a curvy loop out and back and explored areas of the park that are not normally open when you are advised to “stay on the path” to avoid trampling nature. But under a foot of snow, nature had a protective blanket that allowed us to temporarily wander off designated paths. Our hour-long trek was gratifying. We enjoyed a solid level of exercise and our souls were rejuvenated by the sunny warmish conditions. A perfect chocolate brownie at the visitor’s center café was just the right cherry on top!
Second outing: Peck Farm. Two days later with temperatures on the rise and snow feeling its melt, I carved out a weekday hour to snowshoe, this time by myself. With snowshoes and supplies already in the trunk, the blank expanse of tundra awaited my arrival. Geared up, once again I found myself having to make a conscious decision – make tracks or follow them? At the start of my trek I surveyed the landscape, spotting boot prints and nicely manicured cross county ski tracks, but no snowshoe tracks. Unwritten etiquette is to not use the cross county tracks, carefully groomed by previous skiers. Future skiers would not be happy with me if I wrecked their grooves with snowshoe imprints. Instead, I decided to walk parallel to their path off to the side, headed towards the lake. Clomping through the snow, now melting due to weather nearing the 40-degree mark, the weight of each step was measured. Soaking in the open space, I reveled in the auditory delights of snow packed crunching sounds. Creator and composer of nature sounds that only snow and steps can produce. The splendid winter sounds made with each step were like a Zen prayer to me as I set out with an old grain silo in sight.
The feeling of being able to go anywhere can be daunting or exhilarating, but for me it was just the open space my brain needed to weave together loose ends milling around my brain. The cross county tracks veered right, following an established walking path. Pausing, my mind drew an imaginary line to the intended destination, my feet followed alongside cross-country tracks. About one hundred yards into my decision to deviate away from the path, I stopped in my tracks to survey unfamiliar surroundings. A weird, danger feeling washed over me as I realized I might be walking over wetlands or a pond with ice that could give way. Since this was a park I was not intimately familiar with, the white expanse covering up the landscape below left me questioning a “make tracks” decision. Surveying my surroundings for clues, I spotted a small oak tree, a sign that I probably wasn’t tromping over water.
A few hundred yards later I reached my destination: the lake, frozen and snow covered, looking like everything else. I collapsed on a bench, letting the sunshine stream over and recharge me. Just sitting still and allowing nature’s calm to wash over me was just the therapy needed. It was during this meditative sit that I realization that the decision to make or follow tracks during our lives is persistent. That thought suddenly shifted to my consciousness, where the case for each choice was made.
Making tracks: go wherever you want; higher risk; (what’s under the snow?) ability to enjoy and scan the environment by looking ahead (eyes up); option to follow a whim or instinct over fresh snow; DIY adventure; space for creativity; more intense level of exercise.
Following tracks: faster; easier; exert less energy; spend lots of time looking down at your feet to match the tracks; “follow the crowd” mentality; no choice of direction or where you might end up as your final destination.
After I sat for a while to reflect on this revelation, reality nudged me that it was time to head back to the car. Which choice do you think I made on the way back? Did I make new tracks or follow my own tracks back to the car? A solid answer could also be, “it depends.” And you’d be right.
If time and my energy level were of no consequence, I would have made new tracks and explored other areas of the park. But, glancing at my watch, I needed to get to a 10:00 appointment, so chose to follow my own tracks back to the car. It was the right decision; the route was safe and I’d get back more efficiently. Yes, both routes were gratifying in their own way and each had their benefits. On most days I tend to side with downhill skier, Picabo Street, “I’m not following anybody’s tracks, I’m making my own, baby.”
What tracks are you gearing up for to make or follow? Whatever and wherever your trail is, hike on!
