The White Silence

It’s summer, it’s hot, liking and living the heat, but sometimes thinking cold thoughts…

This excerpt from The White Silence by Jack London is indeed what walking in snowshoes can be like, especially if the snow is fluffy and you sink deeper than hoped:

Happy is the man who can weather a day’s travel at the price of silence, and that on a beaten track. And of all heartbreaking labors, that of breaking trail is the worst. At every step the great webbed shoe sinks till the snow is level with the knee. Then up, straight up, the deviation of a fraction of an inch being a certain precursor of disaster, the snowshoe must be lifted till the surface is cleared; then forward, down, and the other foot is raised perpendicularly for the matter of half a yard. He who tries this for the first time, if haply he avoids bringing his shoes in dangerous propinquity and measures not his length on the treacherous footing, will give up exhausted at the end of a hundred yards;

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