Snowshoeing: Not as Easy as It Looks

by Laurie Wells — February 5, 2007

When friends asked if I wanted to join them on a snowshoe trip up Snowmass Mountain (near Aspen, Colorado), I envisioned myself hoofing it with giant wooden paddle-type contraptions strapped to my feet. So I was a bit shocked when they lent me a pair of small, lightweight snowshoes that were hardly bigger than my snow boots. I silently wondered whether they were setting up the newbie to post-hole her way through the great outdoors (you know, that situation where your whole leg breaks through deep snow, and it takes a ridiculous amount of effort to pull yourself out), but I kept my suspicions to myself, and strapped on the shoes.

As an avid back-country and cross-country skier, I regarded snowshoeing as a quaint pastime reserved for those who weren't really inclined to participate in real winter sports. So it was with a smug smile that I followed my friends out onto the trail. But as we began chugging up the snow-covered ski runs on foot, my self-satisfied face quickly turned beet red and sweat-covered. This experience reinforced a crucial rule for participation in any winter sport--dress in layers!

Quick tangent: When you're headed out into the below-freezing temps of winter, you obviously want to dress warmly. But when that same trip involves hiking straight uphill with webbed tennis-racket-type contraptions strapped to your feet, you'll have a much better time and avoid hypothermia if you plan ahead. The best way to ensure a safe and enjoyable outing is to wear layers of non-cotton wicking fabric that dry quickly so that any sweat doesn't stay close to your body, which can lead to a chill at best and frostbite at worst. Shed as you get warm, and re-layer as necessary.

Back to my huffing and puffing ascent: I discovered as we explored the untouched territory between the ski runs that snowshoeing is a great way to get out into the deep-snow forest that is off-limits to a winter hiker (if you've ever post-holed your way through a snowdrift, you know how exhausting deep-snow walking can be). At a slower speed and without the gear required of a back-country ski ascent, snowshoeing lets you meander at your own pace through the sparkling white landscape. Although I still haven't invested in any snowshoes of my own, I would happily join if invited again--with a slightly less smug grin.