There is a 140 meter sheer drop at the Robertson Lake Cliffs east of Goulais River. On December 24, there was also more than a meter of snow, and I didn't really fancy the idea of sliding off the big cliff because of too much snow. So my snowshoeing adventure with Lee and Robb included (somewhat uncharacteristic) caution.
We started out nice and gently, on an unplowed road which already had a packed trail. After a kilometer or so, however, we hit the "trail junction" waypoint I had put into my GPS. Now, there was no trail visible (the waypoint had been made in the summer) but we set out up the slope undaunted.
My bright red snowshoes proved they were more than just a pretty accessory - the agressive looking teeth and traverse bars on the bottom of my MSR Denali Classics performed admirably. I felt like I could walk straight up the side of a mountain. In some cases we did - small bits of mountain, but still more or less straight up.
I kept stopping to admire the prettiness of the day, but I suspect that there was an ulterior motive involved here - snowshoeing up the side of a mountain is hard work. I wanted breaks. But it was also undeniably pretty - we had sunny periods, and virgin powder.
Of course, if you keep stopping to look (and say, ooooooh pretty, and take pictures) other people tend to take on trail-breaking responsibilities, and Lee valiantly proved that he is, indeed, fitter than I am (I, however, am much more clever at getting other people to do the tasks I don't want to do).
But, you know, I was carrying a heavier pack. It was full of very important supplies, like Christmas cookies and a thermos full of hot chocolate. If you carry the snacks, it doesn't matter that you're pokey. And most of the way to the top, we trampled down a patch of snow and had a lovely spot to take an official break (official being defined by my not having to come up with some pretext like picture taking or admiring a view to stop moving).
We made it far enough to have a close (enough) look at the big sheer drop. I made it as close as a couple of meters, but since it was Christmas Eve, I didn't want to shuffle on off the side before at least getting my presents. So, wisely, I stayed well back and demanded that there be photographic proof that we did, indeed, make it to the top of the ridge in the middle of winter with lots of snow.
During our break Lee (perhaps not trusting my navigational skills) pored over the map. Maybe this contributed to his and Robb's brilliant idea that we abandon the trail we'd made on the way up and cut out all the switchbacks by going straight down a steep slope. Did you know that, given enough powder, snowshoes can feel like skis? They can, and it's super fun. I only wiped out once or twice. And due to the miracle of Gore-Tex, I didn't even have anything to whine about.
Yet another satisfying adventure, made no less satisfying by the fact that, right after, I went home to open presents! (I never said that greed wasn't an aspect of my personality.)