Stormy skies

Yesterday afternoon, at our normal sunset hike time, the sky already loomed dusky as a storm moved into our area. The only brightness was a glimmer of color on the eastern horizon.

An impromptu pose on a shelf of boulders by the Labraduo...

The main elk herd, numbering over a hundred, was restlessly moving around in the forest and meadows that surround our house during our hike. As we started our hike, I could see that they'd recently marched close to our house, just skirting our clearing. I hiked toward the meadow to see if they were visible, and I saw another "superhighway" of elk tracks going in the opposite direction from the first elk superhighway. But, I saw no elk in the flesh.

One black Labrador was obsessed with the prospect of elk in the area. We've worked so hard to train him never to chase wildlife that I confidently let him off-leash. With the scent of elk in the air so strong that even I could discern it, we practiced many stays and recalls. Whenever he found a high point with a view, he stopped and stared in the direction that the elk had gone most recently.

When we moved further from the elk scent, R became more relaxed. He posed with his sister with the invisible Continental Divide behind them.

Near the end of our hike, I'd leashed the Duo because the forest seemed dark although it wasn't very late. As we passed the main meadow behind our house, I spotted the entire elk herd walking toward us, obviously planning to take a route that intersected with ours. They came to a halt and a hundred long necks with thick dark fur stretched upward, heads swiveling, as they assessed me and the Duo. The Duo was excited, but not overly so, much to my delight. In the fading light, I could take no photos but it was a special moment. I gazed back at the elk and then we moved along so that the elk could follow their chosen path without dealing with us.

Overnight, the promised storm started dropping snow on our forest. A coyote passed a wildlife camera near our house, and he looked up in an odd way. I wonder why? My best guess is that I'd just turned on a light because K had, uncharacteristically, asked to be taken out. I bet this coyote watched us as I took the leashed K outside. It's because of the wildlife that we absolutely never take the dogs outside after dark without leashes.

By this morning, only a couple of inches of snow had fallen. However, it was just enough to cover the ubiquitous ice patches that I've been whining about in recent days. Consequently, I rode very carefully today.

As I pedaled up higher, K climbed atop Coyote Rock, the rock that a coyote mounted to survey his surroundings one evening recently. The rust-colored rock with a coating of fresh snow against the steelshot gray sky was beautiful in a stark way.

The snow really whipped out of the sky sporadically. Our tracks were disappearing almost as fast as we made them. I saw absolutely no animal tracks, aside from the wide trampled trackways left by the elk herd last night.

K seemed enthusiastic, enjoying the new snow and running in the forest. Since her toe amputation in late November and subsequent rehab, her verve has fluctuated from day-to-day. I love the days when she's "on" like today.

All too soon, we were home, passing the same wildlife camera as the coyote passed last night.

My solo ride was disappointing. One look at the road told me to stay off of it, out of fear that a vehicle might lose control and hit me. So, I couldn't ride to any nearby trail networks with better conditions than our own. Indeed, when I returned from my short ride in our forest, a car had spun out nearby, landing next to the road with both airbags deployed, all four car doors open, and no passengers in sight. Within an hour, the passengers had returned to take their belongings from the non-functional vehicle and the authorities were on the scene. Remarkably and happily, no one was hurt due to the wonders of the safety features of modern automobiles. If only modern vehicles would prevent people from driving too fast in the first place, we'd all be safer.

Although I wished for a bigger adventure than riding on the trails behind my house, it was peaceful and relatively safe!