We are selective snowshoers. If the snow is not deep and decent, we usually opt for cross country skiing, or more happily a bike trip to somewhere warm in place of strapping on the snowshoes. Last year I only went twice. This year the snowshoes have remained in their place hanging next to an old picture of Glen Plake and skis that had been out much too infrequently. With a major mountain snowstorm forecast for the weekend, we decided it was time to get out.
We headed up American Fork canyon, with high hopes and were not disappointed.
We began climbing up pine hollow. As we climbed the falling snow alternated from blizzard like conditions to blissfully falling, this was going to be a good day. My father in the background is 72 years old.
Stopping for a minute at the bottom of little puke climb up to the ridge trail.
We made it to the large valley, where the snow was very deep and untracked. Here my father turned around but, owing to our sense of adventure, we broke trail through the meadow to the salamander flat overlook.
We only ended up snow shoeing about 5 miles, a relatively short trip, but with the snow as good and deep as it was, it was well worth it.
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