Peer pressure

A weekend getaway. Kids are with family, puppies at the zoo, nobody here but me and you.  We're taking advantage of the off season and finding out what Frankfort's all about. If you are ever here in the summer, it's a lot like Glen Arbor or Petoskey.  Northern Michigan is full of towns like that, quaint, scenic small towns filled with businesses that don't sound like they belong in a small town- eateries and design galleries.  Every summer, when the sun shines on the pristine beaches and the blue water sparkles, the population of these towns swell and the streets are choked with traffic, but right now it's cold and grey.  Most of the eateries and galleries are closed for the season.  The stores and restaurants are open and there are plenty of places to park and no lines to wait in. This sleepy town is really a sleepy town this time of year. I am a fan of hibernating in the winter but I like a good adventure too.
Back in November, when we were planning this weekend, we saw that a local land conservancy was hosting guided snowshoe hikes every Saturday in the winter.  Finding local hiking trails is always a bit of a challenge, we have been to Frankfort in the summer and only found information about bike trails and canoe rentals, so the prospect of a footpath is worth exploring. We were looking forward to checking out the Arcadia Dunes. On Saturday morning however, we started to have second thoughts.  We aren't very experienced on snowshoes and aren't really "group hike" kind of people.  It seemed like a better choice to show up at the trail early and head out before the group arrived. We had every intention of starting early, but the directions we had and fresh blanket of snow on unfamiliar roads teamed up to make us fashionably late.  We pulled into the parking lot fifteen minutes after the hike was scheduled to start and were greeted by a squad of brightly colored, enthusiastic, well equipped hikers. They weren't wearing snowshoes but were using ski poles to walk, and were dressed like they just trekked out of an L.L.Bean catalog.  The leader approached the car and asked "You here for the hike?"
"We're here for a hike", I offered back, "you guys can go ahead, we'll be fine".
"No, it's no problem, we'll wait for you'" he insisted.

 The conservancy gets funding based on the number of visitors they get to their events. There were two more signatures in the car and he wasn't going to let them get away. We pulled ahead to the parking lot, we began to suspect we were not going to get some quiet time together in the woods today. When we got out of the car our suspicions were confirmed as we saw a member of the conservancy coming back our way to "make sure we found the crowd".  I chuckled to myself when he said that because my seven year old daughter could pick up the trail of that troupe festooned in high visibility Columbia outerwear.  He had a clipboard with him and made sure we signed in.  Soooo we joined the group but decided we could make the journey without poles and left them in the trunk, in fact, hiking without kids means you don't have to carry any snacks or band aids or toys or anything silly like that, also no bug spray, sunblock or water. Traveling light on a nice day, the sky was clear and the air was crisp, we quickly caught the crowd trudging single file through the snowy woods. We followed the trail through the forest to a few scenic overlooks that offered a pleasant view of the shoreline. That ended up being one of the most boring, uneventful times I have ever spent in the woods.  All the baby boomer/empty nesters in the group were quiet and respectful.  Nobody climbed a tree or tattled on each other. I didn't have to dig a chewed up pine cone out of anyone's mouth.  As soon as we got a chance to separate from the group, we bowed out.  They must have thought we were having a hard time walking in the woods without ski poles or goggles.
We'll come back next summer with our whiny kids and reckless puppies, that's a better crowd. For now I'm content to hibernate until spring.