Orion is spanglier than the rhinestone cowboy tonight as he jumps up into the eastern sky and the crescent moon lends a little illumination to what would be a lovely snowshoe stroll.

But I am not strolling.

I am being pulled along lickety-split behind Mantis the recreational skijoring dog. Neither one of us has a headlamp, and she sometimes switches tracks which I find only by feel and luck beneath my skis.

Jeff is hooked to Nacho the Iditarod dog who does not like to turn or stop. They are somewhere in the darkness far ahead of us.

I’ve taken some spectacular spills (thank goodness for yoga!).  Skijoring in the dark is not sane. Your mother and I do not recommend it.

But it is a BLAST!