But if you quickly put on your skis or snowshoes and escape up the gentle ridge leading west out of the parking lot, you soon enter a forest of Douglas fir, limber pine, Englemann spruce and aspen, and the roar gradually fades to a faint buzz. At the top of the first hill, the forest becomes dense enough to stop most snowmobile travel in this direction, though you will almost surely hear the machines all day and cross their tracks again, and you may be passed by a few riders themselves as you near Horse Lake. After descending slightly, continue west, traversing the upper part of an open south-facing slope before descending 160 feet to a forested hollow at the base of a steep incline. It is a quiet, sheltered spot, a good place to stop for a snack and a breather. After heavy storms, pillows of snow balance on limbs waiting to cascade down in the breeze, or, when prodded by the ski pole of a friend, perhaps fill the hood of a parka or filter down an open collar.
Icicles sparkle on south-facing branches of conifers, tasty treats on sunny days.
Best, and rarest of all, is the hoarfrost that forms on top of the snow during extended periods of clear, cold weather. Protected from wind in the hollows and sinks, the frost crystals grow night after night, becoming fragile shards a half-inch or more across, looking rather like glistening chips of mica or tiny prisms refracting the sun. It is an enchanting experience to glide across a snow surface that tinkles and chimes like breaking glass. A climb of 400 feet brings you to a rounded north-south ridge. To the west is Amazon Hollow, a good place to see animals and their tracks.