“Hey, hey!” I could hear him yelling behind me. I continued on, but he persisted. “Hey you...hold it!” So I stopped, turned around and watched the red coats come rumbling in the snow toward me. I half expected to be noticed and even stopped, but I acted like I knew what I was doing and just tried to blend in.
Was it my purple ski cap that sat erect on my head like a Norwegian birthday hat? Or was it my red Blackies sweatshirt? I’m pretty sure it was neither of these fashion statements that caught their attention. No, I’m pretty sure it was the snowshoes I was wearing at the top of the Snow Summit ski mountain. After all, who wears snowshoes on a ski mountain?
It was enough to convince a team of ski patrolmen to conduct a serious inquiry. “What are you doing up here?” one of them asked me accusatorily. “Well I’m snowshoeing, of course,” I replied. “Do you have a lift ticket? the other asked. No, I don’t have a lift ticket, I said. Looking bewildered, he quipped “Then how did you get up here?”
There was a brief pause. And I told him I hiked from the bottom of the mountain, and stopped at the cafeteria on the top mountain to buy a cup of coffee. Then the old one really burst my bubble. “You’re trespassing! You are not allowed anywhere on this mountain, including in the cafeteria, without a lift ticket.” Oh really! I replied a little miffed, “then why didn’t the cashier ask to see a lift ticket when I bought the coffee?”
Just then their radios lit up with an emergency and stopping this passing snowshoer lost all their unneeded attention.
I continued along my path and finished my "snowjourn", and even lived to blog about it.