excitement at fish creek meadows
Now the argument began. Take the gun to protect us from whatever wild creatures might be lurking in the tree line and in the process, render one of Chuck’s legs fairly useless to propel himself through the snow, or leave it in the pickup and throw ourselves at the mercy of the untamed ski course. Despite Chuck’s loud objections at leaving it behind, he was so hampered by it strapped to his leg, he couldn’t get out of the parking lot. So, it got locked in and off we went. The conditions were incredible! The light from the moon was so bright we didn’t need head lamps, and the snow was perfect. After com- pleting a 3-mile loop, we decided to repeat it as we didn’t want the magic to end. I was in the lead and about 1.5 miles into the second round I noticed footprints on the track that we had just skied a little less than an hour earlier, large footprints that turned out to be cougar tracks. If you have ever been in a scenario like that and have the dawning realization that a large predator could at that very moment, be be-
acute increase in sight and hearing, and ex- pletives I will not repeat here.
with snow conditions that weren’t too crusty and icy or too soft and slushy.
Chuck was using expletives of his own, but those were revolving around the fact that I had talked him out of bringing the pistol. Our only form of defense was our flimsy ski poles and my terrible singing voice. The s pectacle we made of ourselves for the next 1.5 miles is embarrassing to recall. We turned our headlamps on, I sang at the top of my lungs, and we flailed our way back to the parking lot. The tracks stayed with us the remainder of the way and we made it back to the parking lot without a cougar encounter. Once safely ensconced in the pickup we de- cided that, since we had lived to tell, we would just check moonlight cross-country skiing off our bucket list!
We had survived Y2K, so finally in February everything lined up and we headed up the mountain with our gear, snacks and hot choc- olate. It didn’t occur to us that the risks of Y2K would pale in comparison to what might be- fall us on the ski hill that night. When we arrived in the parking lot we noticed how differently things looked with the moon- light casting shadows on the mounds of snow and how the ice crystals threw the moonlight around in a disco ball effect as we walked around the pickup getting our gear together. Being from Idaho and intersecting with the great outdoors, we always had a firearm at hand. We discussed the prudence of bringing the pistol along on this outing, and initially I had agreed. Imagine my surprise when we were all geared up and ready to go when I saw the firearm of choice for Chuck that night was the .44 Colt Revolver with the 8-inch barrel. Chuck was not a tall man and after securing it to his waist to accommodate his clothing, the barrel hung so low that it crossed his knee joint, effective- ly acting as a leg splint.
by CARRIE COEN
As misadventure stories go, this isn’t as much a misadventure, as it is a potential misadven- ture, but one that caused a fair amount of excitement. It has been told many times over the years. In the fall of 1999, my husband Chuck and I had endeavored to get back into shape, so we began regularly working out on the Nor- dicTrack in preparation for getting out every weekend to cross country ski once the course was open. Living in Grangeville at the time, Fish Creek Meadows Nordic ski area was eas- ily accessible and affordable. It was a 15-min- ute drive from our home and was designed in a series of concentric loops that were 1, 3, 5 and 7 miles in length. As that winter season progressed and we were feeling more confident about our abili- ties and more comfortable with the layout of the course, we began looking for the align- ment of conditions that would be perfect for going on a moonlight ski date. It would need to be a full moon, clear night, not too cold
hind you waiting to pounce, you know the symptoms: dry mouth, goosebumps, shortness of breath,
Made with FlippingBook - Share PDF online