Dromore Snowshoeing

 



In my search for ever more remote trails to explore I drove us to Dromore, deep in the back country of King’s County. We left paved roads behind and followed dirt tracks that were icy but at least plowed. We parked beside a dark and ominous opening in the trees where a trail disappeared into the interior. A map board showed a basically north/south trail with several side loops totaling some 12 kms and we set forth on an un-groomed path where recent falls had left the snow quite deep. The way was marked by periodic red ribbons tied to tree branches and clarified only by a couple of sets of old boot prints.

 

 

Within minutes we felt we were a hundred miles from civilization. Stopping to stand and listen, the silence was a dense blanket around us, so eerily quiet that Susan began to feel uncomfortable. Her unease deepened when the boot prints petered out and our only ground markers were animal tracks. The ground was fairly flat but the snow so deep that at times we struggled to stay upright. At forks in the path we took the main route north, sensibly gauging that the side loops would be a step too far. We forged ever further until I fished out my phone and with a single bar of signal used the GPS to locate our position. The map revealed we were not too far from a dirt road. At the prospect of an easier walk back on a wide path I suggested we strike out across virgin snow through dense trees to reach it.

Susan was distinctly nervous at this turn of events and felt it too much of a risk. She was of course right as we were a long way from anywhere and help would be a long time coming, if ever. Nonetheless my inner compass and the GPS agreed so I comforted her with promises of a lovely stroll once we had just got through this maze! Uncertain, Susan bent to examine animal tracks and with much sage rubbing of her chin and deeply furrowed brows she stood slowly and announced her findings. A coyote had passed this way and what’s more, with a damaged paw. I studied the prints myself and indeed this was a large set of pads and judging by the depth, a heavy animal. I kept thinking there is nothing more fierce than a wounded, cornered animal!

 

 

 

 



GPS insisted we were barely a couple of hundred feet from the dirt road and I suggested that to proceed would be quicker than to back track. We set off at a furious pace expecting to be pounced on by ravenous canines at any moment. Ducking under branches, pushing others to the side we crashed forward. A sharp dig in my cheek went barely noticed, such was the rush of adrenaline. In a few moments we burst into sunlight and scrambled over a high snow bank to reach sanctuary... a road with ATV wheel tracks we could comfortably walk in and visibility for some way ahead. Phew!

Now my cheek began to sting and I asked Susan to nurse my wound. Blood was running down to my neck and it felt like a large flap of skin was hanging off. A visit to ER seemed certain. However with a quick spit on a tissue and a couple of dabs Susan pronounced me fit to continue and that stitches would probably be unnecessary. Buoyed by this good news I virtually scampered up the track, well as good as I could on twenty-five inch snow shoes. More animal tracks came under our scrutiny and Susan spotted paw prints of fox, rabbit and even birds. I am in awe of her tracking abilities! After ninety minutes and four and a half kilometers we were back at the car and had survived another adventure.