Kismet at Buck’s Ravine

This is the third attempt at a date for Ashley and Josh. If you want to read their other adventures, click here for December or here for January. 

The universe was surprisingly cooperative for Ashley and Josh’s third attempt at a date—a Saturday was free within two weeks. It stunned them both and gave a glimmer of hope — maybe, just maybe, a few hours alone would start something new — although each was a little curious, and a tad apprehensive, about what “new” might look like.

And although the universe had handed them a time, it had not provided a place.

Ashley’s agenda included getting Josh back on alpine skis. Josh countered with the suggestion of a cozy dinner, one where they could talk and learn about each other. As the texts became more pointed, a truce was called. 

A compromise — cross-country skiing — something neither of them had tried.

“It’s not dinner, but at least there are no chairlifts to contend with,” Josh said as they pulled into the parking lot at Blueberry Lake, a favorite destination for locals looking for Nordic skiing on perfectly groomed wooded trails.  

“And we get you back on skis,” said Ashley, her eyes alight with anticipation.

They exited the car. The trees laden with snow looked like oversized ice cream cones, and the gray sky threatened snow as they crunched along the path. Rustic charm enveloped them: air flavored with wood smoke, wooden trail signs, and silence.  

Ashley breathed deeply in the crisp air, energy racing into her limbs. Josh marveled at the silence only a few miles from the chaos of his everyday home life with two little kids. They were together, but in different head spaces, each consumed with their own thoughts.

As Josh pulled open the door to the small building that served as the rental shop, warming hut, and ticket office and held it for Ashley to enter, a young woman stood from her place next to the wood-burning stove and laid down the knitting she’d been working on. “Welcome! Day passes for two?”

“And rentals,” Ashley said.

“Have you done this before?” the young woman asked.

“Nope,” Josh said, glancing at the snack area, while Ashley eyed the room full of gear with interest.

“But we know how to ski and board,” Ashley said, raising her chin.

The young woman bit back a smile. “It’s a little different, but I’m sure you won’t have any trouble. Much more calm, that’s for sure. Just stay on the green trails.”

After some time discussing shoe sizes and ski lengths, they chose their gear, then leaned over the paper trail map on the counter, their shoulders jostling lightly. 

“Looks like Butterfly could be a nice easy green to get us going.” Ever the romantic, the movie playing in Josh’s head had them side by side, maybe even holding hands.

But Ashley had eschewed green trails for years. “Let’s start with Buck’s Ravine; it’s the nearest black one. We just start on this blue one, Cadillac, and take a right.”

Josh protested. “Are you nuts? We’ve never done this before.”

“Chicken?”

“Unharmed and want to keep it that way.”

They stared at each other for a minute, each silently thinking their idea was the best, and both wondering just how far this date was off course.

Josh broke the tension with a sigh. “How about one of the blue ones first and if that goes well then a black one after?”

Ashley nodded, her shoulders dropped. Josh could compromise, unlike her ex. “Right, this isn’t a race.”

Josh chuckled. “Is everything a race?” 

The question landed harder than he intended.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been accused more than once of being too Type A,” Ashley said with a wry grimace.

“It’s not a bad thing.”

“Sometimes it actually is,” Ashley said. 

Her experience with relationships was that they always involved a power struggle of some sort. His was that trust and communication were essential. Fate and compromise had brought them here today, but whether for convergence or divergence remained to be seen. 

“Ready?” he said, picking up his foot and wriggling the ski attached only at the toe.

“The skis are so skinny,” Ashley said, wriggling her own. “Cadillac blue trail, here we come.” 

The familiar excitement of exercise surged in Ashley as she propelled one leg forward and gracefully transferred her weight to shoot her other leg out, using her poles for balance. Delight spread over her face as she fell into rhythm: pole, push, pole, push. 

Josh had a calculated and slower pace. He tested his foot placement on his skis and found a neutral balance. He summoned his snowboarding skills, testing his forward and backward weighting. Delight also bloomed on his face. 

For a moment, the Nordic compromise seemed to be working. 

That is until Josh looked up. Ashley was already a speck in the distance and pulling away.

“Ashley, wait up,” Josh yelled, but she kept striding ahead. His heart sank, unsure whether she hadn’t heard him or didn’t want to — while ahead of him, Ashley pushed forward, assuming Josh was loving it as much as her.

The distance stretched between them. 

Josh chose not to race forward, but to enjoy the trail at his own pace; his busy life didn’t allow for peace very often. A chickadee flitted past, landing on a branch overhead. The sunlight filtered between the branches of the trees. Just him and nature. His shoulders dropped; his grin widened.

As he rounded the final corner of the trail loop, he saw Ashley bent over and panting next to the little ticket shed, her face red with exertion. His lips set into a firm line, half-expecting criticism over his lack of speed.

“Josh, that was awesome. I haven’t had this much fun in months. And I have you to thank for it. I never would have tried it without you.” 

Josh stopped, stunned. Ashley was joyful—not annoyed, not critical, just exhilarated. Her infectious energy raised his spirits; after all, he wouldn’t have tried this without her either. “That’s great, but —”

“Let’s try the Buck’s Ravine now, OK? You promised.” 

He enjoyed this new sport. So did she. But he wanted to slow down and talk. “I guess, but —”

“Great!” Ashley pushed off. Her adrenaline surged and her stride lengthened as body responded with glee — her mind already hoping there was a senior circuit for Nordic racing. Her body and its drive consumed her, Josh behind and forgotten.

As she raced out of his view, Josh’s heart sank again. On this day, dating seemed too hard, too draining. He could have been home with his daughters, sledding and making cocoa with marshmallows.

Even as Josh inventoried his pantry and Ashley planned her Google search for a senior circuit, they both enjoyed the challenge of the new trail, narrower and much steeper both up and down. Both bodies enjoyed the beat of pumping hearts, the warm rush of endorphins. Together, they had tried something new, and for that they were both grateful.

But the run wasn’t over yet.

A small sign posted on a fir tree warned of a long downhill slope ahead. Ashley, out in front, grit her teeth and tucked her body. Josh, following behind, took it cautiously, snowplowing to reduce speed. 

The trail sign had tried to tell them. 

Despite her skills, Ashley couldn’t control her speed in the turn and she collapsed at the bottom of the steep slope, skis tangled. As Josh careened toward her, there was no way around her and he flung himself off the side of the trail to avoid crashing into her. He groaned as he hit the ground.

“Oh my God, Josh, are you OK?” Ashley struggled toward him, sinking above her knees in the deep snow. Guilt slowed her progress. Once again, her drive had caused a problem, and this time, swept Josh along.

Josh rolled over onto his back, his skis akimbo. She helped unclip his boots, and together they moved their gear off the trail and leaned their backs against the solid girth of a large oak tree.

“Sorry. I couldn’t get out of the way fast enough,” Ashley said.

“It’s okay,” Josh answered, though his tone didn’t mean it.

 “Sorry,” she tried again. “It’s just that this was so great, and I —”

Josh rubbed his head. His frustration burst out. “Ashley, this was, this is, supposed to be a date.”

Confusion knit her brow. “But this is a date. We were having a great time, weren’t we?” 

Josh was tired. And bruised. He gave up. 

“Ashley, I just think we are probably too different. I want to enjoy these trails, this nature, and want to talk to you…”

She held up her hand to stop him. “And I want to plunge ahead by myself. Yup, sounds like me. I’m sorry.” For the second time today, Ashley was off balance. There was something comforting about Josh. Something honest. He didn’t pretend that this date was going well; didn’t lie and tell her what she wanted to hear. He actually wanted to get to know her.

“Opposites can attract, right?” She held out two fists. “Pick one.”

“Ashley, I think it’s better if we just call it.”

“Nope, pick one,” she said. “And I will tell you a story.”

He tapped her right hand with his glove, humoring her.

She opened it and pretended to examine the contents. It was a story she didn’t share often — not because it was a secret, but because it exposed her failure — about her younger days when she was headed for the US ski team and a shot at World Cup races and the Olympics.

Teary emotion colored her voice. “I really, really wanted to stand on a podium and hear the national anthem.”

Josh’s irritation vanished so quickly he forgot he had been about to drive home. “What happened?”

She pointed to her right knee. “Blew out the whole knee. ACL, MCL, meniscus. Hit the safety nets hard. Shoulder tears. Spinal damage. I was in the hospital for months.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking her mitten’d hand in his.

“It changed my life. All the things I thought I would achieve after years and years of work, just gone. So sometimes, when I get glimpses of my old abilities, I —”

“Get a little crazy?” he volunteered.

“Nutty,” she said. “But happy. Very happy.” 

A slow smile developed on Josh’s face. “Opposites do sometimes attract.”

Ashley shifted off the tree and faced him. Leaning in, she brushed her cold lips against his. His lips pushed back. 

Maybe their date had worked out after all. Maybe not the way either of them thought it would. And maybe that’s okay.

Photo credit: Blueberry Lake Cross Country Center