SNOWSHOEING UP GREEN CANYON

Once upon a time in a cold, snowy land there lived a happily married couple. This couple loved to be outdoors...in the summer. In the winter...not so much. However one Saturday they put on their "big kid pants" and braved the wintry great outdoors.

The destination: Green Canyon.
The activity: Snowshoeing.

Things started off pretty well for the couple. Green Canyon is a single track, packed trail used mostly by cross-country skiers. The couple veered off of the trail into the trees in hope to see a mountain lion (ok not really). Shortly after they started they came to cave where bears were hibernating (ok not really. But FYI I have decided that in my next life I want to be a bear so I can sleep through the winter. How awesome would that be!?!). Back to the cave...the man was brave and scouted out the cave. No bears. Just the remains of a campfire. Sad.
Things continued to go pretty good until the woman's clothes decided that they did not want to stay on her body. Oh and she was getting hot. Tired of pulling her pants up and not wanting to carry the extra layers, or just leave them somewhere to get lost or stolen the man came up with a splendid idea. "Let's bury them!" he said. "Brilliant" said the woman. And so it was. The clothes were buried.

Now you might be wondering to yourself at this point in this very entertaining story...how would they mark where the clothes were buried? With a stick? The woods are full of sticks. This is true, my friend. What to mark the burial with did in fact pose a problem to the couple...until the man came to a solution. "We will mark the burial site with a small snowman".

After all was well for the woman in the clothing department, the couple continued their search for wildlife. (FYI the best thing about snowshoeing NO SNAKES). They spotted numerous dog tracks and possibly some deer tracks, but that was it. Bored with the lack of wildlife they couple decided that jumping off things into the snow was a much better option.

After countless jumps the woman realize that she was getting rather cold and wet. Guess that is what happens when you bury your water proof pants. The couple decided to bring their activity to an end and they started their journey back. Somewhere along the way the woman realized that her cellphone was also buried with the pants. Uh-oh. Woops.

Lucky for her all was safe and dry. They made it home happy, a little cold and safe. An thus ends the story. It was a good day.

RANDOM TIDBIT totally un relating to the story above. So today I had a 10 minute conversation with a guy to used the phrase "my buddy or my buddies" at least 63 times. Do the math. That is about 6.3 "my buddy/my buddies" every minute. Wow. That is more than some vampire loving-mall shopping-short skirt wearing teenage girls use the word "like".