By Ashley Lodato
Rain or shine, snow or dirt, the Methow Valley Ski for Women (MVSW) is taking place on Feb. 2 at the Winthrop Town Trailhead. I chatted with MVSW co-organizer Roxie Miller about the event recently and she says that the best part of the event for her is seeing women developing and nurturing life sports such as skiing and walking.
“That’s what human health is all about,” says Roxie, “getting out and having fun and practicing these activities we can do for life.” She continues, “Cross country skiing is really my thing. It’s where I can just get in the zone.”
Roxie enjoys the MVSW because you see mothers and daughters, and groups of friends, and hiking buddies, and even one trio last year spanning three generations—all out having fun together.
Roxie says the only good thing about having less snow this year is that she and Carl have been able to hike places that they normally wouldn’t see in the winter. They recently went up to Pipestone Canyon, near the farm where Carl grew up, and Carl said he hadn’t been to that part of Pipestone in the winter since he was a child.
Last week Methow Conservancy bigwigs Jason Paulsen and Sarah Brooks went to Seattle for meetings and overheard someone telling a story about a car they (the other people) had been behind driving down to Wenatchee. The vehicle in front had a cargo box on top that seemed to be rattling about suspiciously, so the car behind gave it wide berth. When the front car drove over the Beebe Bridge, a gust of wind blew the top of the cargo carrier open and out flew some skis, boots, and poles, over the edge and splash! into the Columbia River. Ouch.
That unfortunate and expensive mishap will put this next anecdote into context. So remember, Jason and Sarah, two of the greatest minds in the Methow, are driving around Seattle just having heard about the cargo carrier debacle. As they’re driving, the “door ajar” light comes on. Jason and Sarah both open and slam their doors but the light remains lit. Sarah diplomatically suggests that they stop and check the back hatch on the car, but Jason confidently dismisses her concern, noting that they are almost to their destination so there is no real urgency.
No real urgency, that is, until the rear hatch flies open and Jason’s rolling suitcase sails out the back and into Seattle traffic. The suitcase has hardly hit the ground before someone drives over it, where it becomes wedged under the front axle of the other car as the driver continues obliviously toward an on-ramp to head north on I-5, the suitcase grinding away beneath him. With visions of his clothes catching fire from friction, Jason takes off running after the car, waving his arms, quite possibly realizing in just that moment how deceptively easy it could be to get rid of one’s baggage.
