Skating on Yukon Ice

     With a pair of skates wrapped in a towel I step out of the front door into a frosty, bone-chilling cold.  There's a porch light outside my house but I hardly needed its light because the moon reflecting on fresh snow makes it nearly day.  I tuck the bundle under one arm and climb down a snow-covered bank to the frozen river's edge.  The ice here is jagged sheets sticking up in random fashion so the footing is unsteady and sharp corners poke at my shins.  I find a steady chunk of ice to sit on and a place the skates between my feet. 

     Moonlight shines on the blades of my scarred, well-worn Bauer 95 hockey skates.  I bought them in Colorado Springs the day I decided I was going to learn how to play hockey. I was 27 then.  I couldn't have imagined that these same skates would be propelling me down the Yukon river over twenty years later. 

     I take the heavy winter boots off and force my feet into the skates and lace them on tight.  I'm a little unsteady on my feet at first.  It's been a while since my last skate.   Pushing off I start to glide.  The ice on the river's edge is rough and the snow tends to pile up a bit.  Once I get to the center of the channel it's amazingly smooth, better than I thought it would be.  I take long purposeful strokes where it's flat and short choppy steps to skirt around the rough spots.

      Near a bend up ahead are some guys ice fishing.  One is a student of mine with his dad.  They are surprised to see someone on skates.  The father says when he was young, kids were always skating on the river but not so much now.  The fish aren't biting tonight so they figure they will only stay out in the cold for another hour. 

     I push off and head for the main channel to the south.  Increasing my stride I really pick up speed.  Dodging jagged edges that could trip me up I pick my way through the smooth stretches.  A few weeks ago I was confined by mud and water to a narrow strip of boardwalk.  Winter has given me a new freedom to go anywhere I want.  Now my mind cannot even grasp the vastness.  I have the entire Yukon in front of me.