We are here at the Group Home. We’re biding time. At least I’m biding time. I’m not sure about anyone else. The idea was to ski. We brought our skis up. It was low single-digit cold this morning (Fahrenheit, that is) and we dragged you-know-what all morning. It hasn’t snowed much lately so the snow is kind of crusty and icy and it’s getting to be that time of year when whatever leaves still remain fall into the trail and they have a way of stopping you dead in your tracks. Not fun and I just don’t like to ski in that kind of snow. So, I didn’t. I was feeling exercise guilt about this. Why? I dunno. I walked this morning. And then I took an hour and a half jaunt out on the ice this afternoon. The UU and The Beautiful Gay did finally go out and ski in the late afternoon. They say it was fast and icy. Not great when you have groomed trails. The kind where you are stuck in the ruts that you can’t exit if you need to. And so sometimes you crash. I love the Ski Ranch but my favorite skiing is in deeper snow. Breaking trail? Bring it on.

We’ve had a few snow-mos go by throughout the day but not as many as back when I first knew the GG and started coming up here. They were noisier back then too. Even though I grew up in the Yoop where you could drive your snow-mo in the streets, my family was never firmly into the craze. I was thinking about this today. In a way, it seems incongruous that a guy like my dad was not interested in snowmobiles. He loved to drive things. He was a top-notch automobile driver and pilot. But other than the little putt-putt motorboat that we didn’t get out last summer, he wasn’t much into any motorized beasts beyond cars and airplanes. I’m sure there are complicated reasons for that but over all, my dad was more about motion than the means for achieving it. You need an airplane to fly and if you want to traverse the country like my dad did, you have to drive. And he liked to do those things partly just because they were fun. I know about this. I think I’ve inherited his love of driving and at least some of his talent for it. But I also think that Grandroobly liked to approach the wilderness under his own steam. Cross-country skiing. Canoeing. He was a runner as a young man and in later life he walked miles every day. Until the day he fell and couldn’t walk any more. He never had any of the fancy equipment that everybody has to have now. He would just get out there and go.

We did have a snow-mo for a while though. My bro’ was even more entranced with motorized vee-hickles than the old coot was. By the time The Old Boy was maybe three years old, he could identify various vee-hickle makes and models. Once during elementary school, when the parents were taking a trip to Detroit without us, I can remember him explicitly instructing them to *notify* him if they saw a Corvette with it’s lights, um, opened, or closed, or whatever. I can’t remember. Anyway, The Old Boy *had* to have a snow-mo. So we got one. I can’t remember if the old coot ever drove it or not. I *tried* driving it once or twice. The Old Boy went on to have his own little fleet of snow-mos as an adult. And a few fancy boats. And many automotive vee-hickles. Just ask Webmomster. On the other hand, I still miss the days when we’d be up here and he’d randomly show up at the Ski Ranch. And he was the one who bought the first kayak. I can still remember being scared to try that out.

I’m biding time this weekend. It’s better to be here than home, with or without skiing. Last weekend I was Mom Alone and it was wonderful and I was still in a life-as-usual mode. Now I am biding time. I loved being on the ice today. That is all. Click here or on the pic for random slides.

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