With over 350 miles of groomed, “official” trails, the Black Hills are a dream for snowmobilers. And that’s not including the “unofficial” trails – uncounted miles of off-trail riding throughout the 1.2 million acres of Black Hills National Forest.

Until just a few days ago, I had never been snowmobiling recreationally. Most of my snowmobiling family and friends do it for work-related purposes, because they work in remote backcountry areas where snowmobiles are perfunctory for getting from one place to another. Fun, for sure, but not necessarily a hobby.

So I decided to rent and leave from Spearfish Canyon Lodge located on US-14 in the Northern Hills. Spearfish Canyon is a true beauty with impressive rock walls rising high above the valley floor. The Lodge is located on Trailhead #4 of the Black Hills trail system and offers lots of extra amenities for snowmobilers.

I couldn’t have chosen a better day to go. There were about 8 inches of fresh powder, the sky was bright blue and it was a balmy 23 degrees outside.

Sitting on the back of a double seat Arctic Cat with my guide, there was little for me to do but enjoy the scenery. When leaving from the Lodge, Trail #4 follows Little Spearfish Creek through a winding canyon. The canyon is smaller than Spearfish Canyon, but it is just as, if not more, impressive.

After cruising along the smooth groomed trails for a while we went off-trail into an open meadow full of fresh powder.  As we sped around the meadow through dips and coulees, sprays of powder billowed up and all around us. Snowmobiles have a lot of get up and go, and hitting all that fresh powder at high speeds was way more fun then I had expected it to be.

My snowmobiling adventure went by much too quickly. My afternoon consisted of a perfect blend of relaxed cruising and a fun time of hitting fresh powder. I saw some amazing country, but it was only a tiny slice of the many miles of trails for snowmobiles in the Black Hills. Next time I’ll have to check out a new trail and be in the driver’s seat!

For my third birthday I wanted to go downhill skiing. While I don’t recall this, I obviously figured out at a very young age that skiing is a lot of fun. I’ve been skiing ever since. I was also lucky enough to grow up in close proximity to the Rocky Mountains, so I often went skiing at resorts such as Bridger Bowl and Big Sky. I guess you could say that I was spoiled.

Since moving here, I have been very impressed with the Black Hills. Although they are not as big as their neighbors to the west, they have a lot of recreational opportunities to offer.  I finally headed up to Terry Peak a few days ago to check it out.

Terry Peak Ski Area is one of two downhill ski resorts in the Black Hills, the second being neighboring Mystic Miner Ski Resort at Deer Mountain. Terry Peak operates the highest chairlifts east of the Rockies and sits on the second tallest peak in the Black Hills at an elevation of nearly 7,100 feet. The resort is located southwest of Lead off U.S. Highway 85 and 14A. A large Terry Peak billboard helps point out the turnoff at Nevada Gulch Road. There are two lodges. The lower one in Nevada Gulch houses the Darkhorse Saloon where there is often live music, and the main upper lodge is called Stewart Lodge. Stewart Lodge has ticket booths and rental area, a cafeteria and bar.

Upon arrival, I was instantly impressed by the friendliness of the staff. Every staff member I interacted with was helpful and outgoing. Although there were quite a few people on the slopes, there was no line at the ski lift. So I stood and chatted with the lift operator for a few moments, asking his advice for the best runs. He recommended the terrain park and a couple of runs with moguls.

I’m not really into jumps, but I checked out the terrain park anyway. It was huge, much larger then I thought it would be. It had rails, jumps, and boxes, and they were in the process of building a half-pipe of considerable size. A speaker attached to a tree was pumping out music, and kids in bright colored snow pants and jackets were flying off jumps and rails all around me.

I left the terrain park to scope out the rest of the mountain. After several runs of moguls, a few intermediate runs and some advanced runs, I was pretty impressed overall with downhill skiing in the Black Hills. While there were no alpine bowls or huge vertical drops, there was still plenty to keep me entertained. The views were great, the slopes weren’t crowded, there were no lift lines, and there was a variety of terrain to ski.

I’ll be going to Terry Peak again, as well as the neighboring ski slope of Mystic Miner. With both less then half an hour away from where I live, I guess you could say I’m spoiled.

I do not come from a family of snowshoeing lovers. In fact, I think it’s safe to say that everyone in my family highly dislikes snowshoeing. We’re skiing people, sledding people. Heck, we even go ice skating and ice fishing once in a while. But snowshoeing is not on our list of things to do.

I remember finding my grandfather’s old set of snowshoes from the 1940s in our barn when I was little. I asked if I could try them, and while no one said no, they didn’t really act like it would be any fun. So I forgot about them.

Years later, in college, my brother purchased a set of snowshoes and hated them. “A waste of time and money. You just sink,” he said. Several of my college friends disagreed with him and loved snowshoeing, but I never went out with them. I usually opted to go skiing instead.

So when a friend invited me to go snowshoeing in the Black Hills, I hesitated a little. But I’m pretty open-minded and always up for something new, so I agreed.

On Sunday morning we went up Spearfish Canyon on Highway 14A to Iron Creek. The turnout is a small parking lot next to the Iron Creek Bridge – noted on a green highway sign on the right, a few miles before Savoy.

I didn’t even know how to work all the straps to put my bright red snowshoes on over my snow boots. With a little help from my friend, we were finally off down the trail. Or I should say he was off down the trail, moving along quickly, looking as graceful as I think a person can look on snowshoes.

I, meanwhile, felt like an awkward fool and wasn’t able to keep pace with him. I quickly got hot, irritated and frustrated. Stupid snowshoes! It felt like I was trudging along with cinder blocks strapped on my feet. The smooth, clean tracks of cross country skiers were next the frumpy tracks of the snowshoes, and I kept looking at the ski tracks with envy.

Iron Creek is a small stream that winds down a pretty little canyon with several small waterfalls. Willows, birch and tall pines are scattered along the streambed, buttressing massive golden rock walls. But I wasn’t noticing the scenery much, because in trying to catch up with my friend, I somehow managed to trip myself and face plant into the snow … twice.

Getting up from my second graceful fall, I stopped and looked around. It was gorgeous. Even if I did have cinder blocks on my feet, I was still in the beautiful outdoors. As I got used to my snowshoes, I was even able to upgrade from a trudge to a run! I didn’t fall or trip myself the rest of the day and ended up having a great time. I realized that snowshoes are actually pretty cool, because you can easily go off-trail and uphill, much easier than if you were on skis.

So, in the end, I came to terms with snowshoes. I’m not going to say it’s my favorite winter activity, but if my friend invites me to go out again, I’m game. And maybe I can convince my brother to give his snowshoes another try … or give them to me.

Note: April Gregory has joined the Black Hills Travel Blog as a guest contributor. She will be posting stories about her outdoor adventures in the Black Hills.

Instead of starting 2010 with a pounding headache from New Year’s drinks the night before, I spent the first day of the year doing what I love best: being outdoors.

I broke my 1970s garage sale cross country skis in deep powder last spring, so I headed over to Ski Cross Country on Third Street in Spearfish.  I quickly had a conditions report and rental skis in hand. After throwing my cross- country skis and backpack in the back of my friend’s truck, we grabbed a morning cup of Joe from Alpine Coffee and hit the road.

Spearfish Canyon was gray and foggy, but as we climbed closer to our destination the fog cleared and we were soon under a bright blue sky. We decided to ski Dead Ox Trail, part of the Eagle Cliff trail system and a fairly difficult trail about 3.5 miles long. The Eagle Cliff trail system has 27 miles of multi-use trails for hiking, skiing, horseback riding and biking. The trail system was started by cross-country skiers in the 1980s and is maintained by both the Forest Service and Black Hills Nordic Ski Club.

The trails are mapped and marked, but not groomed. There are two trailheads for Dead Ox. One is 7.4 miles west of Cheyenne Crossing on U.S. 103 and enters the canyon through a cabin owner’s driveway. The second is a mile further, 8.4 miles west of Cheyenne Crossing, also on U.S. 103.

After the recent 2-foot-plus dumping of snow that fell on the Black Hills, we wondered if we would have to break trail. A vehicle in the lower Dead Ox trailhead parking lot signaled the work was done for us, no trail breaking required today!

Dead Ox Trail follows a narrow canyon streambed. It gently climbs uphill and eventually opens into meadows. We strapped on our skis and started out. We had the entire place to ourselves. All around us everything was blanketed in clean, untouched snow, the only sign of life the fresh ski tracks going off and disappearing around the next corner. Occasionally we would cross over a deer path through the deep snow or see a spot where one had had bedded down. Down in the canyon out of the wind, the trees were still bent with snow. On the ground, the snow was so deep that occasionally my ski pole would completely submerge. The only sound was the gentle swish of our skis gliding across the deep, fresh powder.

After several miles we ran into the couple ahead of us, doubling back toward their vehicle. We stopped and chatted before continuing on into the open meadows. The breeze was colder and stronger out in the meadows, so after stopping for a cup a tea from my thermos, we decided to head back.

The return trip was all downhill. On one of the first corners I fell (like falling into a cloud!). I sank so far into the deep powder that only the top of my head was poking out. Once I struggled out of my deep hole in the powder, the rest of the return trip flew by as we swished and curved down the trail back to the parking lot. Although only a gentle downhill trail, our return trip took half the time.

I couldn’t think of a better way to start out the New Year. We had the entire trail to ourselves and enjoyed the peaceful quiet serenity of our surroundings.