Snowshoeing
North Shore by snowshoe
In winter, hikers find serenity and stark beauty on trails above Lake Superior.
In summer and fall, hikers by the thousands take to the hiking trails on Minnesota's North Shore.
In winter? Not so many. But those who strap on snowshoes to climb river gorges and follow the blue blazes of the Superior
Hiking Trail are rewarded by stark beauty.
The brittle winter sun throws everything into high relief: Black lenticel pores seem to pop out on trunks of birch that are a
brilliant white against the blue sky.
Snowshoeing in Wisconsin
National forests, state parks and wildlife preserves roll out the white carpet for winter hikers.
On the week before Christmas, I figured I’d found the prettiest place in the world.
Fresh snow had fallen around Hayward, and the forest was sparkling. We made our way down the intimate lanes of the Makwa
Trail on snowshoes, brushing past heavily laden balsam boughs as we scaled gentle ridges and descended into snowy
glades.
Each new tableau was more beautiful than the last, and I congratulated myself on the discovery that single-track mountain-biking trails are great for snowshoeing.
Ski or snowshoe by candlelight
On a cold winter's night, follow the twinkling lights.
If you do only one thing outdoors in winter, do it by candlelight.
Nothing is more magical than a forest full of flickering lights. I got hooked when I skied in Minnesota's Mille Lacs Kathio
State Park.
A fat blue moon hung in the sky, sparkling hoarfrost made twigs as nubby as reindeer antlers and more than 400 glowing bags gave the forest a fairy-tale aura.
Snowshoeing in Minnesota
In the land of lakes, it's easy to get off the beaten path.
There are many good reasons to go off trail, and the chance to see moose definitely is one of them.
When we were at Bear Head Lake near Ely one January, we hiked first along a lakeside ski trail that was so packed we didn't
need snowshoes.
But then the ranger mentioned she'd seen moose tracks in fresh snow near the park entrance, and we decided to go moose-tracking. Strapping on our snowshoes, we plunged from the road into deep woods.
Great places to snowshoe
In winter, the outdoors is wide open to those who walk on snow.
Everyone likes to snowshoe. It's cheap, easy and you can do it anywhere. Or can you?
Often, I've wound up ditching my snowshoes when I'm in a state park, because the trail to wherever I'm going is so packed I don't need them. Yet trails give you a cleared path through brush and are laid to take in the best scenery, so it's hard to ignore them.
"So many people want to snowshoe,'' says Jen Westlund, a ranger at Bear Head Lake State Park near Ely, Minn. "But they don't want to be told the whole park is open for snowshoeing. They want a trail.''
Choosing snowshoes
You can make, buy or simply try the different models.
It’s easy to see why snowshoeing is so popular. It’s slower than skiing, but you can go wherever you want, on footwear that doesn't need to be waxed and on trails that don’t need to be groomed.
A lot of people will be getting or giving snowshoes as holiday presents. Many people automatically head for the high-tech metal shoes that are ubiquitous in sporting goods stores, but it’s worth considering other kinds.
Aluminum snowshoes are light and have crampons for scaling hills, but they don’t give wearers much loft in deep snow,
and they’re kind of noisy.
Waterfalls by snowshoe
On the Black River in Upper Michigan, see a kaleidoscope of water and ice.
On the western tip of the Upper Peninsula, snow comes as regularly as mail.
Gusts of wind make the deliveries, picking up moisture and warmth over Lake Superior and then dumping it as snow when they hit the cold inland air around Ironwood and Bessemer.
The two ski towns are little more than four hours from the Twin Cities, but they look more like the North Pole in comparison. Snow comes early, piles high and stays late, into April.
Walking on water
In winter, a famous creek through Minneapolis becomes a snowshoe trail.
If you’re a paddler, you’re done for the winter. But when one door closes, another opens.
I’ve been meaning to paddle Minnehaha Creek through the heart of Minneapolis for years, but the water won't stand still — sometimes it's too high, sometimes too low.
This 22-mile creek, named for a romantic character in an 1855 hit poem, connects everything that makes Minneapolis famous: the Mississippi River, Minnehaha Falls, the Chain of Lakes, Lake Minnetonka.
© Beth Gauper, 2007 - 2013 all rights reserved
