THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, March 29, 1996 TAG: 9603290045
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E12 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY SYLVIA SHIRLEY, SPECIAL TO THE DAILY BREAK
LENGTH: Medium: 54 lines
FOR THE PAST 20 years, I have celebrated my birthday in the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York, joined by countless College of William and Mary students participating in my ``Winter Camping'' class.
This year was no exception. It was especially memorable, however.
The morning of March 8 brought 1 1/2 feet of new snow. Peeking out from my toasty mummy bag, I gazed over the pine-fringed frozen lake. A fire was already flickering in the hearth and hot chocolate was soon served.
The bright sun sparkled on the freshly fallen snow that lightly adorned every branch, reed, stump and stone. The crisp air brushed my face tingling my cheeks. Could there be a better place to begin my 50th birthday?
Winter camping is not for the faint of heart. It is the most strenuous activity class the kinesiology department has to offer. Every year I do have students sign up because ``it fits in my schedule'' or ``I need it to graduate!''
I'm always anxious about our first meeting in January. I quickly glance around the room, looking at the lithe, the athletic, the exceptionally keen, the ``Sir Edmund Hillary's.'' There are always those who thrive on risk, challenge and hardship. And then there are the others, the frail, the slightly overweight, the ``I have to be here's'' who have the energy level of a pregnant cow!
Oh, how I love to see these types! I breathe a sigh of relief. Company!
I love to go slowly, to cross country ski and snowshoe at a leisurely pace. How nice to climb Blue Mountain and chat with, albeit, reluctant company, who also move at the pace of a snow snail. Did young bucks and buckettes who reached the summit in toute suite time miss the tracks of the snowshoe hare? The tiny icicles tinkling in the gentle breeze? The song of the black-capped chickadee . . . dee . . . dee?
Well, I didn't! Bringing up the rear does have its advantages. The ski tracks are well-groomed, the sledding hill slicked, the snow mound hollowed out, the firewood gathered and the tea water a-boil.
Another year has passed. Another class adds stories to their rocking chair repertoires, and, once again, I begin to wait for my return to that magic wintry place.
Jonathan and Adam, I implore you, come join me again next spring. Together let us renounce the synthetics of civilization and once more expose ourselves to the thrills and chills of the northern woods and let our senses tell us we are truly alive. MEMO: Sylvia Shirley is associate professor of kinesiology at the College of
William & Mary. She wrote this column in response to last week's column
by one of her camping students, Jonathan Hunley. by CNB