Day One

Weather reports called for snow squalls and strong wind. I’d need to go out into the storm. A fresh snowfall requires a photograph. It’s as necessary a habit for me as brushing my teeth.

Boots and insulated pants, wool sweater and hard shell, balaclava and face mask. It was ideal conditions for snow, around 33F/1C. On the trail, solo traveler stepped out in front of me a short distance ahead.

Our pace was similar. I did not gain on him. After a mile the snow fell heavily, the wind whipping it about. Big soft flakes, fluffy and dry. I felt them fall on my hood and swirl in the air, large white moths filling the sky.

Lifting my head and looking into the squall, the traveler had disappeared at the junction ahead. Reaching it, I went left. The snow on the ground before me was a clean white carpet- he must have turned right.

I hiked a circuit of a half mile through open grassland, returning to the junction. I spied a figure a quarter mile before me. My twin was on his return journey as well. The trail had been wiped clean, our earlier tracks erased by the blowing wind and falling flakes. A single set of tracks from the hiker ahead were printed in the fresh snow. I followed for a while, losing sight in of him when I made my turn for home.