Spontaneous Alpinism

A walk to the grocery store this morning. 28˚ Farenheit, blowing snow, poor visibility. I opt for thinner gloves and a soft shell jacket, trading warmth for improved manual dexterity and wider range of shoulder motion necessary to wield four fully-loaded re-usable cloth grocery haversacks. Light and fast. No extra clothing or bivy gear in case of an unexpected encounter or conversation on the street. Speed is my greatest safety precaution.

Setting out from base camp, I see other parties and soloists returning. Most are heavily garbed and move with the syncopated gait of one beset with cold and fatigue. They do not even acknowledge me. I begin to question my choice of clothing and lack of face protection, but carry on.

Western Ave. The first landmark on my trip confirms that I am on route. The traffic signal is unexpectedly long, and I am forced to make mini—laps around the cramped curb to stay warm. Precious energy wasted.

River St. From here, my path diverges from the standard, well-marked Putnam St route. From this point on, retreat is very difficult. The blowing snow has welded my eyelids together, and I regret my lack of eye protection. But I feel strong and determined to obtain food for the weekend. I continue.

A series of tricky, labyrinthine side streets and one technical parking lot crossing. I can see
Trader Joes. I arrive safely. But this is not a one way race.

For the return journey, I have four full bags, two balanced on each shoulder. Now, I am glad I chose a soft shell jacket instead of the warmer, bulkier down. The slippery texture of the down jacket makes it very difficult to maintain friction with the shoulder straps of the grocery bags, whereas the soft shell material grips nicely.

The cold is biting as I emerge from the store for the descent. Tired, yet thrilled with my success, I set out. DANGER! Even in my half-complacent state, I am alert to a 6' X 14' ice patch in the parking lot. The only way around would add at least 6 minutes to my journey. Not an option. Without protective gear, I must rely solely on my abilities and experience. I cross the patch without incident.

Upon reaching River St, I feel great relief. The chances of a mishap now are slim. I prepare to cross the busy road, traversing to the well traveled and warmly familiar Putnam St.

I arrive home, numb from the air and from exertion. The expedition has been a success. Warming with a cup of lemon ginger tea, I massage my sore shoulders and reflect on the journey. Just a walk in the snow.