Crosslots-itis. A day in the sugarwoods, and I’ve got a case of it. One of the woods stands on a nearly vertical plane, with one main line running up the center, and others coming off it to the sides, horizontally across the mountain. The smaller lines that I was working on go up, from tree to tree, in a slalom pattern. The most certain way to never miss a tap is to strictly follow each line, up or down the hill, around each tree. Then, on to the next. The most practical way to do the job is, with eyes scanning the terrain ahead, move back and forth between two or even three lines as you climb up or slide down the hill. Lose no elevation unnecessarily, is the dictate. There are some deviations to the judgement, involving sheets of ice, fallen trees, and impassable ledges. All taken into consideration on the move, the only stop at each tree, and all attention on the job at hand. Lose no elevation. This philosophy carries over onto civilian life, when I catch myself jaywalking, cutting across parking lots, and wordlessly pushing past family members standing in my way in our kitchen. Crosslots-itis.