The wall calendar displays a wintery February scene. But shack nasties are getting you down.

Winter has confined your outdoor activities to a pair of must-do chores: sweeping snow off the satellite dish and fixing the snow plow-damaged mailbox … again.

Gonzaga basketball offers the only hope that March Madness will bring spring sunshine. You need a breath of fresh outdoor air. And, you can’t wait until spring.

“If you can walk, you can snowshoe” begins ringing in your ears like the Iowa farmer heeding the call to clear a corn field into a baseball diamond.

You can walk and you see snow. That checks off the two prerequisites for snowshoeing. Where do you begin?

First, acquire a pair of vintage wooden snowshoes. Your uncle who trapped back in the 1950s or an antique mall will likely yield results.

Next, hang those old relics above the fireplace mantle. Snowshoes made of wooden frames, rawhide decking and leather bindings served Norsemen and Sargent Preston of the Yukon reasonably well. But in reality, even the strong laminated ash frames can break. The rawhide requires annual shellacking. The leather bindings stretch when wet, become brittle as they dry and then break. A leather strap always breaks when you are at the maximum distance from the vehicle.

Finally, procure a pair of modern snowshoes. Today’s high tech marvels contain space-age metals, car grille plastics and miracle fabrics. You can drop anywhere from $60-350 on snowshoes. A pair priced in the mid-range usually makes a good beginner’s choice. Your regular winter boots should work just fine. Add a pair of trekking poles for stability.

Pay particular attention to the bindings. I often say, “the perfect snowshoe bindings have not been invented, but they’re getting closer.” They will vary from buckle straps, ratchets or even ultra-convenient boa wire cables. If possible, purchase snowshoes locally to try out the various bindings. Wear your winter boots to ensure a comfortable fit.

Now for the fun part of snowshoeing, where to go? If you live on rural property, just step out the back door and tromp out your own trails. Otherwise, your choices are unlimited.

Living in Selle Valley, I frequent the Trout Creek and Rapid Lightning Creek Units of the Pend Oreille Wildlife Management Area managed by the Idaho Department of Fish and Game. Both have easy access and plowed parking areas. As their names imply, look for the WMA access signs on the Trout Creek Road off of Highway 200 near Pack River or the Rapid Lightning Creek Road by the Northside School on Colburn Culver Road.

A trail connects these two wildlife management units. An old homestead along Pack River makes an interesting destination coming from either direction.

A new opportunity allows you to “try before you buy” for beginning your snowshoe adventures. The Kaniksu Land Trust and Sandpoint Nordic Club rents snowshoes and cross-country ski packages on weekends (snow permitting) at the KLT Pine Street Woods Community Forest. This partnership, which also includes Pend Oreille Pedalers, invites everyone to enjoy outdoor activities just minutes west of downtown Sandpoint. Remember to keep your snowshoes and Fido off of the groomed ski trails as the 180 acre tract provides separate trails for multiple outdoor pursuits. The basic rule calls for skis on the wide trails and snowshoers, walkers and fat tire bikers on the narrow trails.

If the valley lacks a sufficient snowpack or you hear the mountains calling your name, Schweitzer Mountain Resort offers a variety of snowshoeing opportunities. In addition to designated trails, you can also join hosted snowshoe hikes that include a night time extravaganza under the light of a full moon or a day hike to the summit ridge. Don’t have snowshoes? Not a problem as rental gear is available. Check at the Activity Center in the village for details.

Other opportunities for snowshoeing abound throughout the area. Almost any snow covered road or skid trail on national forest, state endowment or timber company lands are open for exploring.

Whether in the nearby meadow or the distant mountaintop, “if you can walk, you can snowshoe.” The satellite dish and damaged mailbox will await your return.