Clear air.

It's hard to blog every day when you're in the middle of nowhere with not even cell phone service, let alone internet. Which is where I was. For a few days.

On the weekend we drove like a million hours to Hayward, Wisconsin, where Brian's friend's family has a house.  It's one of those places that's decorated with images of frolicking bears, moose silhouettes, and old-timey snowshoes.  The whole area was blanketed in white, and we spent our time playing games and cooking in the warmth, as well as snowmobiling (or "snow machining," as Susie says Alaskans say), across the vast, frozen lake. I was as freaked out as my mom would be at first ("On a frozen lake?!"), but it took me about three minutes to become accustomed to the air on my face, the bouncing over treacherous bumps, and the high speeds. I would have called them breakneck speeds, except that when we got back Brian made my wussy ass get off the snowmobile so he could take it, alone, up to speeds of 100 mph. I guess I wasn't quite as daredevil as I thought. But whatever! Anything that requires a full face helmet (see photo) is adventurous in my book.