This week my son and his girlfriend came to visit.  They only had two and a half days.  And I was ready to make the most of it.

So the first half-day they hung out with Hubby while I worked, then we had a nice dinner, and a nice rest.  The first full day, we got up, had a nice big breakfast, put on our boots, and headed up into the mountains.  It was cloudy in the low country, but by the time we got to Estes Park, the sun was out.  There was only a light wind, nice for Estes, which can be bitterly windy at times.  We stopped so many times I lost count, first at the overlook that marks the city limits of Estes Park, then at Estes Lake, then at the Stanley Hotel, then to take pictures of mountain goats on the road to Rocky Mountain National Park, then at Lily Lake, then at Long’s Peak, then in Nederland.

Lily Lake was our adventure, however.  The lake is completely frozen over this time of year, and you wouldn’t know there was a lake there except there is a sign.  The kids walked onto the lake, although not far, since signs clearly say the ice may not be safe.  There was at least a foot of snow on the lake itself, and multiple feet of snow on the ground around the lake.

How do I know?

Because I fell into it.  We decided to walk around the lake on the path, because there were other people doing it and it seemed like a good idea.  What we didn’t realize is that most of the people were wearing snow shoes.  The path seemed packed down and stable, although at some points it was easy to sink ankle-deep into the snow just off the tramped path.  At one point, we were climbing a rise around the lake, and the path was only two boot-widths wide.  The girls had gone ahead, Klown was probably ahead of me by 40 or 50 feet since I couldn’t see him anymore.  I was walking with my son’s girlfriend, and Stinky Boy had gone back on the path to find his keys, that he had dropped somewhere out of his sweatshirt pocket.

So this particular rise was shaded well by pine trees, and my boot missed the tramped path by about 2 inches.  My leg dropped through snow to my mid-thigh, and I was tossed over onto my back in the snow, head downhill and feet sticking up.  I managed to keep my camera from the snow.  It was a soft fall, amazingly soft.  Not hard and crunchy like the Missouri snow I’m used to.  It was fluffy, feathery, and for all intents and purposes, like quicksand.  And I’m on my back, flailing my arms and legs to no effect.

And laughing so hard I thought I would never stop.

I finally managed to roll over onto my stomach, but there was nothing to grab, and the snow kept collapsing around me.  On my hands and knees, I paddled through the snow until I was close enough to the path to grab the girlfriend’s leg, and haul myself up onto the path on my knees.  By that time Klown had made his way back, and between the girlfriend and Klown, I was able to haul myself back to my feet.

Of course I was wearing jeans and not ski pants, so I was pretty wet and cold after that.

But, it didn’t ruin my day, and I cannot remember having had so much fun.  Next time, ski pants for sure!

Click here to see our pictures from our adventurous Wednesday!

This entry was posted on Saturday, February 18th, 2012 at 2:10 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.