Last year, after my first snowshoeing excursion, I think I said I wanted to do a lot of snowshoeing this year. I might have even resolved to buy snowshoes—can't remember. Anyway, here it is March and I finally made it to the backcountry, in borrowed snowshoes no less.

Kate is my snowshoeing guru. She picked everything and brought her friend Kylie too. She likes the Kendall Ridge Trail because it's easy to get to and well-traveled enough that she feels safe hiking alone. I have no idea how many times she's been up there, but she knows the route by heart.

The trip did a fine job of fulfilling the fantasy of snowshoeing. Time ticked between snow and sunshine. Fresh new snow, lusciously deep, padded our steps. Hillsides broke away to views, and the trail, despite being easy to access, wasn't crowded.

On the return, traffic at the pass halted for an hour because of a collision. It had been snowing heavily when the accident occurred, but by the time we were waiting on the road the sky had cleared. A late day sun emblazoned the freshly fallen snow on every spindly limb and soaring, scarred peak. Although we were in the car, it was one of the most beautiful stretches of the day.