Archive: Dec 2020

The temperature hovered in the low double digits—and would soon begin to sink, probably dipping into negative numbers, once the day had passed for good. Leaning on the frosty rail of the bridge over Mills Creek below Manitoba Cabin, I could hear the muffled rush of the creek beneath its thick sheath of snow-covered ice. Around me the woods already stood silent in the deepening cold of the coming night. Two miles up the creek to the southeast, loomed the flank of Raven Ridge. Across its broad, snow- and spruce-patched face the cold orange of alpenglow darkened into purple mist of evening. And so the shortest day of the year turned toward night. Some skiers had already schussed down from a day pf carving the broad west face of Manitoba Mountain. The more persistent skiers would opt for one last…