This afternoon I went cross country skiing for the second time this season.  Besides the desolate beauty that a park full of snow presents, I was amazed at how much memory snow has.  I'm not just talking about the tracks that skis and animals leave in the snow (or the big ass prints when I fall), but also the memory of the form of skiers in the snow.  Believe it or not, I can tell that when I slip over a certain area, it's not always because I'm a crappy skier, but also because someone who was on that trail before me was a crappy skier.

So sometimes it's nicer to set out into some fresh powder and blaze your own trail.  At least then you're only leaving your mistakes for someone else.