I always keep my snowshoes and poles in my car, as you never know when you will happen upon a place to stop and get some fresh air. My husband and I were driving back from London along highway 89 when I recalled a place where I used to cross-country ski, and a quick twist of the steering wheel brought us up Airport Road instead of out to the 400 highway. Here we are, at the Mansfield Outdoor Centre on Airport Road in Dufferin County. If you are coming here for the first time, make sure you are going to the Outdoor Centre and not the Mansfield Ski Club which is across the highway.
The parking lot was fairly full, and even this late in the day people were still heading out onto the trails in cross country gear and on fat bikes. There is over thirty kilometers of trails to explore and most of them begin with the monster hill that I remember scrambling up, and sliding down, when I was young and fit. With only two hours of day light left, it would take me that long just to get up that behemoth!! Luckily, the dedicated snow shoe trail avoided it and spared the world the sight of me huffing and puffing up that hill. Instead we followed the pink trail around the parking lot and out to flat ground.
The trails are clearly marked and easy to follow, at least they should be. I blame the minus 30 temperatures for freezing my brain and dulling my senses. The trail split in two and my husband pointed out the right hand trail, but me being the great outdoorswoman disagreed and headed down the left hand trail. Like I said, frozen brain. The trail was well groomed, which should have been my first indication that I was going the wrong way. Nope. We followed the trail through snowy fields with that frigid wind blowing around us, and through a bare campground deep under the snow. The Pine River flowed past, shallow and fast with thin ice on its edges. This would be a beautiful area in the summer, private with just a few camp sites surrounded by forest. We continued on, following the river bank for a short distance until the trail ends at a small turn around. By now I was fed up with snowshoeing on a firm groomed tail and stopped to take off my snowshoes and carried them back to the parking lot.
It was too late now, with dusk coming on, to follow the correct snowshoe trail out on the lovely snow covered trail that was more what I was hoping for. With regret we left for home, and my husband never even gloated about my mistake. Thanks hunny! Once home I looked at the on-line map and saw that we had left the pink trail and headed down the two kilometer orange trail. Apparently the cold had affected my eye sight. If we had followed the pink trail, we would have gone two and a half kilometers through the forest with some uphill sections. Well, it just means that I have a reason to return in the future, when the temperature is less icy and my brain less frozen.