Red Mountain Snowshoe

While I’m not much of a skier, I do love the mountains and the snow so I resort to the slower pace of snowshoeing for my winter adventures. We had a pretty mild winter this year so I figured that we would be able to access some areas that would normally be pretty inaccessible.

I’ve always wanted to check out some of the fire towers dotting the local mountains, but hadn’t made the effort to see one yet. Since they are “lookout” towers, I assumed that they are typically at the top of a hill with a pretty good view – go figure. We were supposed to have a bluebird day on the calendar so I thought it would be the perfect time to snowshoe up to one of the towers to get a view of the snow-covered mountains. Luckily I have friends that like this crazy type of adventure and Paul was game to join me.

When we got to the start of the trail there wasn’t much snow. I was a little disappointed but happy that, at least some of, the three-mile approach hike would be without snowshoes. We started up on mostly packed snow with little ice. The weather was playing nice with light winds and mostly clear skies affording us some stellar views.

The snow was very light at the start of the trail.

The snow was very light at the start of the trail.

The views were stunning along the ridge.

As we inched our way up to the top, any semblance of a trail started to fade away as the hard-packed snow turned into thigh-deep powder. On went the snowshoes as we continued to trudge up the mountain sinking to our knees with almost every step. Our pace slowed once the snowshoes went on but it was fantastic to hike up in nothing but a light jacket with the heavy snow all around us. The trees were sagging under the heavy weight of the snow and the trail looked like it was coated in marshmallow creme.

Little did we know how much things were about to change. As we rounded the final few turns to reach the lookout tower the weather decided it was time to do a 180 and got a little angry. While the side of the mountain we had been on was blessed with calm winds and beautiful skies, the side that the lookout tower was on felt more like an arctic wasteland with hardly any visibility and howling winds.

In an instant, our idyllic snowshoe in the woods had turned into a battle to stand upright and just to see with the howling winds and sideways sleet and snow pelting us. Did I mention how nice it was to be in just a light jacket? Well that was no longer the case — we put on every piece of clothing that we had. While prepared for most conditions, we really weren’t prepared for the gale-force winds and windchill that comes along with it. Despite the cold there was no way that we were going to turn around at this point, with the final destination in sight. At least I thought I could see it in the distance through the whiteout.

The end was finally in sight. You can almost see the lookout tower over the top of the first structure.

We trudged, staggered and leaned our way past the lower building to the actual lookout tower at the top. What a view it was! The lookout tower was covered in a layer of rime ice several inches thick. Paul took one for the team and climbed up onto the lookout tower to help put things in perspective. I tried to hold still in the wind to snap a couple of photos. Luckily a few of them were relatively level and I managed to keep the ice from building up on the lens, which is more than I can say for my glasses. An overzealous exhale caused ice to form on one of the lenses that, coupled with frozen fingers, signaled that it was time to get down off the peak.

Paul looking for Tauntauns on Hoth.

We quickly made our way down from the summit and rounded that magical corner where the weather switched back to a nice winter day. Once out of the wind we were able to take off a few layers and I cleaned the ice off my glasses. After that it was an uneventful trip down back to the trucks where I had some much-needed coffee waiting for me.

What a perfect adventure. Moral of the story is always get out and explore but be prepared for anything because you never know what the mountains will throw at you.