Roaming the Romios

"Before today, I never would have thought Josh Wood would go snowshoeing."

This statement, from Karen Buford while snowshoeing, isn't far from the truth. When I woke up on the morning of Feb. 17 to cover the Upper Valley Search and Rescue Ben Romios Poker Run, I had no idea I would find myself strapped into a pair of snowshoes. Shortly after arriving at the gates that mark the closure of Wyoming Highway 70 for the season, however, Margaret Weber talked me into giving it a try.

I informed Margaret that I didn't have snowshoes. Nick Wamsley, who had just strapped his son, Lloyd, into his own snowshoes informed me that he carried a spare pair. It didn't take me long to agree to the loan. After all, if I didn't like snowshoeing I wouldn't ever need to strap on a pair, again.

Strapping them on, though, proved to be rather difficult. My first attempt had me putting one strap over my foot and another behind my foot. Lauren Buford informed me of my mistake and I spent another five to ten minutes take the snowshoes off and putting them back on the proper way. At this point, I'm already sweating.

"I'm not to going to survive this," I tell myself.

A group of us, which includes both Lauren and Karen, the Wasmleys and Katie and Casey Cheesbrough and their kids, finally get on the trail. I am not prepared for this. I'm wearing sneaker-style hiking shoes, a thin shirt, fingerless gloves and my heavy coat. Still, I'm committed to see this experience through.

For a good portion of the trek, the trail goes uphill and it isn't long before I'm sweating and trying to catch my breath. While I've already left behind the Wamsleys and the Cheesbroughs, the Bufords are ahead of me. They are nice enough, though, to take breaks and wait for me to catch up ... and catch my breath.

As we continue along the trail, we came to the various locations set up for those participating in the event to punch their cards to gather their "hand." I was expecting the snowmobilers, snowshoers and cross-country skiers to stop and play a hand of cards at each stop.

The scenery is breathtaking, to say the least. Snowmobiles, far from the trails we are on, can still be heard from time to time through the trees. We pass some people and some people pass us, which seems to the nature of trekking across the snow and through the forest. I'm pleasantly surprised at how well I'm actually doing.

I've only fallen down once and it was to let some people pass. My legs are aching and I'm still huffing and puffing, but I continue to feel accomplishment with each step I take. The blue skies darken as clouds move in over the mountains and snow begins to fall. The warmth I was generating starts to dissipate and I put my hood up.

We make it to the final stop before heading back to the closure gates. From this point, we have two options. Get to the highway and follow it down or take the longer route along the Civilian Conservation Corps trail. The three of us decide for the former.

"It's okay," I tell Karen and Lauren. "Just tell everyone the fat kid got tired."

It's not a lie. I am tired. My arms, surprisingly, are aching from using rods to help propel myself along. My legs are still aching and feeling heavier with every step. Once we make it to the highway, it's a rather short downhill walk to where we started. The aroma of bratwursts and hamburgers keep us moving forward. The promise of food and rest are powerful motivators.

Once we make it back, I spend another 10 minutes trying to figure out how to get the snowshoes off. I finally figure it out and, with the equipment off my feet, my legs feel 10 times lighter. Some have made it back long before I did and others are still making their way in as I prepare to grab some lunch.

Sitting down at a table, I can't help but notice what a strange sight it is to see people practically holding a picnic as snow begins to fall. Cards are turned in and, with most of the participants having arrived, Katrina Nuhn begins calling out the winners. Hats, shirts, sweaters, tools and more are handed out to the winners.

Maybe I should have grabbed a card.

The Wamsleys, long after most everyone else has arrived, finally make their way in. Lloyd is a little trooper as Nick informs me that the two of them took the CCC trail instead of heading down the highway.

I thank Nick for the loan of the snowshoes and Margaret for giving me a small push to try something new before I walk down the highway to my car. No doubt, I would be feeling this in the morning. A small price to pay, however, for the experience.

According to Nuhn, 405 hands were sold at this year's event with approximately 200 people in attendance and nineteen business donated 92 door prizes. Sandy Streeter was in 1st place for a high hand with a straight and received $907.50 which she donated back to the search and rescue, Shirley Miller was in 2nd place with three aces and won $544.50, and Candy France was in 3rd place with three kings and won $360. In the low hand, Karen Rauterkus was in 1st place and won $726 and 2nd place was a split between Riley Hopkins and Todd McCoy, who both won $242.