Almost Weir

Hike Ku for Weir Hill

Equipment Failure
Unfavorable omen
Try another day

We finally got some snow. Shoveling snow and skiing snow. I'm not sure it counts as a hike if you ski it, but ski it we . . . uh. . . tried. Steve's thirty year old nordic boots separated instep from sole after a tumble in the first few yards of our ski. That happened to me a few years ago at Cardigan in NH. I remember it well. And retired the trusty skis of my childhood at the ripe age of 48. Steve was due for a ski replacement and he may be the last human on this continent still using wax skis so it's time. In the short term, it meant that our hike/ski of the Weir Hill loop was off. But after charging home from work, getting kitted out, dragging gear over to North Andover, and already in the woods, I took advantage and spent about an hour skiing over to the lake, between the drumlins and back while Steve listened to news in the car. I didn't do the loop, that would taint the 60, but I can't wait to go back with Steve for a winter ramble at Weir Hill. It was, as the pictures will confirm, absolutely lovely and far pleasanter than the crowds of summer and fall. There were dogs and of course, they were off leash, but with the exeption of the big dumb one who thought I had lots of sticks - poles, skis - to chase, they left me alone and I left them alone. Like McArthur, I shall return. With Steve and his new skis.