The gloom hit different this morning. 22 degrees, snow-covered ice beneath our feet, and five mildly intelligent men who thought rucking through it was a good idea. We met at the AO known as Timberwolf, an area that—like its namesake—has no mercy. Rucks were strapped, headlamps flicked on (at least mine did), and with a deep breath (or maybe a regretful sigh), we stepped into the frozen unknown.
From the very first step, it was clear that this wasn’t just a ruck; it was a battle against physics. Every footfall required precision, every shift in weight a calculated risk. The ice beneath the thin layer of snow made the ground an unpredictable adversary. It wasn’t a question of if someone would go down, but who and how spectacularly.
The 2.5-mile loop around Timberwolf was slow-going, not because of exhaustion, but because our primary focus was survival. It quickly became a test of core strength, agility, and humility, as each PAX had at least one close call that made them reconsider their life choices. At one point, a particularly treacherous crossing turned our steady pace into something resembling a toddler learning to walk. Arms flailed, feet skidded, but somehow, against all odds, no one went down. That didn’t mean there weren’t casualties—dignity took some hits, confidence was shaken, and more than one man gave the ground a death stare.
Mumblechatter was strong despite the cold. Does Shake Shack make better burgers than Five Guys, who has the best fries? Talking about the fellas who made a better decision to hit the fartsack rather than freeze, Fandango and Hermie, yeah, you. It was Tsaziki’s first ruck and even the most seasoned ruckers found themselves second-guessing every step.
As we made our final approach back to the starting point, the relief was evident. Five PAX entered, five PAX left upright—but only just barely. Timberwolf had thrown everything at us: snow, ice, sub-freezing temperatures, and the ever-present temptation to give up and go back to bed. Yet, we conquered.
COT prayers out to Crabgrass’ fam out west, dealing with grief over the loss of a young man who last his battle with the demons in his mind. Reminder that we have to look out for each other, and take care of our minds and mental wellness. Prayers to Rudy’s dad as well, recovering from a short hospital stay.
Until next time, when we decide—against all better judgment—to do it again. SYITG.
