By Kit Fruscione

The crunching sounds of the fresh snow beneath my hiking boots, paired with the exhaling of my cold breath, were soothing as I hiked through the trails of Mendon Ponds Park. The further I get down the trail, I close my eyes, blocking out my other senses, hearing the sharp chirps of the winter birds, their feathers puffed in excitement from last night’s snowfall. 

A total of 10 inches of powdery fluff fell throughout the night. It resembled confectioners sugar sprinkled across the landscape by Mother Nature’s hand. It is March in upstate NY, and the winter has been disappointing. Not much snow, just a lot of gray days and rain, begging the question, “Why is it we live here??” The winter is long in Rochester. Usually, starting around late November is when we see our first snowflakes fly. Winter usually ends here in April, so possibly nearly six months of gray and cold. But! Last night it snowed, and I’m grateful for the white powder blanketing the brown grass perched delicately upon barren tree branches.

The pond is to my right and I decide to hike the perimeter of it. Geese slowly coast through the still, cold water. Hearing my footsteps approaching, they dart behind the cat tails standing straight and tall along the water’s edge. I’m wearing crampons over my boots and think my snowshoes would have probably been better. Still, I’m reveling in this hike. A year ago, I was recovering from a full knee replacement. Thankfully now I’m hiking as I always had, strong and determined.

There are other people out here today. It’s a big park full of wooded hiking trails. And a big hill for sledding. I can hear the echoes of kids in the distance, yelling and laughing as they slide down the slope.

Carefully, trying not to walk in the cross-country ski tracks, messing up the skiers’ parallel lines, I break trail alongside them. After an hour of hiking, with three miles complete, I’m back at the parking lot, sweaty and hungry. I drive to the nearby village of Pittsford and go into the small bakery, Village Bakery & Cafe and buy a blueberry muffin. It’s so yummy, and I make short work of it. Driving back home, I think about how to enjoy the snow tomorrow, deciding on cycling along the Erie Canal on my Fat Tire bike.

Sunday morning arrives quickly. That’s a good thing because I’m stoked to start the day. After a breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast, an orange and a latte, I’m fueled up for my ride along the Erie Canal. I pick the path up here, in Brighton, where I live. It’s so convenient, just a 15-minute ride from my house. The path is covered in snow with some icy patches, and I’m glad my tires are thick, with good tread, similar to a motorcycle tire. Pedaling, atop the icy patches on the path, they crush under the fat tires like a thin pane of glass, shattering into tiny pieces, like diamonds, and jumping through the air.

The water in the canal is low. It will be high again in just a few months with kayakers and boats.  The path is quiet, unlike the summer when it’s crowded with walkers, rollerbladers, skateboarders, runners, and cyclists. The canal has been around since the 1820s and is 351 miles long, beginning in Albany and finishing in Buffalo. While biking, I decide I want to ride the distance of it this summer.  Future tripping is comforting though, even if summer feels ions away on this cold, blustery day.

It feels satisfying being on my bike, moving along at a fast clip, feeling the freezing wind on my face. I cycle for an hour. My legs are tired from pushing the heavy tires in the snow, so I start the ride back home. Once there, I take my helmet off and reach for the teapot to make a cup of hot cocoa.

While sipping the hot chocolate, I reach three conclusions from the weekend:

 1. It’s not always necessary to travel a far distance for an adventure—it can be found in your own backyard!

2. Those Oreo cookies on the counter will go mighty fine along with my cocoa!

                                                       AND…

3. It’s not so bad here in the winter, after all, living in gray, cold upstate NY, as long as you get outside and create your own sunshine.

Kit Fruscione resides in Rochester, NY. A retired special educator, she currently works as an Addictions Counselor, and Recovery Coach for individuals with eating disorders. When not working, Kit is tripping around the world on hiking and cycling adventures with her wife. Kit’s favorite type of candy is a Snickers Bar. You can contact Kit at this email,