This is the first day of the rest of my life

...or at least the rest of my time in France, most likely. The snow has officially hit the Vosges enough for winter sports to be fully underway, and will probably be here until I leave in April. Some ways I've started to adapt/force myself into this below-freezing environment:

1. WWOOFing. I went back again to Susanne's farm this Wednesday and hacked at frozen piles of horse manure with a pickaxe for a couple hours. I was fed a hearty breakfast and lunch and given a half hour-long German lesson. It's a start.

2. Hiking. Some good old-fashioned marching in the snow. I went, also this past Wednesday (it was a long, cold day), on a short hike through the ski pistes with my neighbors, Isabelle and Alain, who are insanely fit, incredibly friendly, indelibly outdoorsy (okay okay...). I work with them at school and go climbing with both of them on Tuesdays at the rock wall (needless to say, they're middle-aged). They lent me a ton of equipment, since I have ni boots ni clothes ni special accoutrements, like hiking poles or a day pack. They also feed me sometimes, which is nice.

3. Skiing. I started yesterday with ski de fond (cross-country skiing), which involves very thin skis, very small hills, and a lot of balance. It's different from downhill skiing in that you start on flat ground and have your heels free (only your toes are clipped in). You kind of march/slide on flat ground, clip-clop with your skiis splayed out like duck's feet while going uphill, and ride downhill with parallel skiis. No slaloming! Or you'll eat it, like I did about five times.

4. Alpinisme (mountaineering). The nuttiest seasonal adaptation of mine thus far. Today was my first official outing with le club alpin francais des Vosges -- the same club that I do rock climbing with every Tuesday. In short, mountaineering involves a helmet, ice picks, crampons, multiple layers of Gore-Tex (thanks Scott! I was mad warm out there today), and some ropes. We went to the highest point in the Vosges, Le Hohneck, and started out by descending into a small (but steep!) valley. After a few exercises -- practicing falling down and catching yourself with your ice pick, practicing going uphill, downhill, etc. -- we started climbing up the other side of the valley, using our ice picks as crutches and digging our crampons into the ice and frozen shrubbery. I'm more exhausted than I have ever been in my life; my muscles are sore to the touch, and I'm spattered with bruises (mostly from skiing yesterday, though). And I didn't take this picture, but this is really what it looked like today, just with some trees:

More than anything, these sports have made me realize what we -- humans -- can do when we have no choice. Exhausted, but you're halfway up a mountain? Too bad; keep climbing. Scared to death to scamper down that slope? Oh well, there goes everyone else. Of course, I didn't want to be a chochotte (wimp) so I didn't say anything, but I was pretty scared most of the time. Yet being scared combined with exhaustion makes for a goal-oriented animal, you know? Maybe by "goal-oriented" I mean "desperate."

Finally, some food for thought (thanks, Danny): colorless green ideas sleep furiously.