How Falling out of Love is like Cross Country Skiing

It’s cold,

but we’re bundled well,

and the heat from the car helps.

Whether to risk a crowded trail

or risk floundering through back country,

somewhere in the middle seems best.

But the perfect trail is hard to find,

so we settle on road 461,

off to the left if you’re going up the mountain.

There’s an open Forest Service gate at the top,

we can’t say how far until there’s a closed one,

but the first hundred yards are easy downhill.

And then a small stop where the trail divides,

The snowmobile tracks seem easier to follow,

and there is more downhill this way.

And then more down, a slight climb,

and a long downhill curving left.

We both fall before the bottom.

We know we’re headed east,

down the mountain, that means the

way back will be mostly a climb,

but you say that’s fine and I say that’s fine

and there’s more downhill. At the bottom we

stop to peel an orange and laugh at ourselves.

Soon the single Forest Service road tells us

it’s not going anywhere, no grand vista,

there’s really no point to road 461.

So we gradually agree, and turn around

for the long climb back. There is mostly silence,

and our tracks have become icy.

We’re bundled well but cold is cold,

And mountain cold finds a place to hide somewhere in your socks,

so that even the heat of the car can’t root it out on the long ride down the mountain.

The next weekend I go alone.