Mountain madness

Our evening hikes have been underneath ominous clouds recently. Unfortunately, those clouds have been obscuring the almost full moon. However, you can see the moon in the photo below, just rising above the rocky peaks near the left of the photo.

 Last evening, as the sun set, the eastern sky became bluer and the clouds became gold.

K stood in silhouette against the clouds, looking over the meadow.

Last night, my driveway wildlife camera saw action for the first time in a little while. A rotund (or pregnant?) bobcat sauntered down the cleared path.

Shortly later, a rabbit gallivanted by the same spot at high speed.

I think that cleared human routes are important to the wildlife after snowstorms. However, as soon as more hidden paths open up, the animals seem to abandon routes like our driveway and use trails instead.

This morning, K and I headed out into a slushy and muddy world. The wind still rushed off the mountains in intense gusts followed by eerie calm interludes. The wind really scared K. So, I played some training games with her to distract her from her fear. It worked!

K's fears are strongly correlated with her thyroid function. She's had a recent resurgence in fearfulness, acting intensely afraid of noises, sudden movements by us, and walking down a small set of steps. It may be time for a blood test to see if she needs to take more oral thyroid hormone.

After I rode with K today, I headed out to ride my mountain bike on some trails that had melted out. A tiny wildlflower (Noccaea Montana, Wild Candytuft) that I've been watching for had bloomed all over the south-facing hillsides. The white flowers are tiny, about a half inch across, and grow in clusters. I think that they were waiting for a long drink of water before blooming.

After noticing these tiny treasures, I took lots of photos and relaxed in the sunshine near them. Consequently, it was very hard to believe how fast the weather turned on me. I rode up onto a ridge, and the wind refound its strength, gusting so hard that I couldn't pedal forward during the biggest gusts. Then, the rain started, driven by the wild wind. Fortunately, I know that weather in our mountains can be crazy at this time of year, and I had extra layers in my backpack that kept me warm.

But, I had a brief moment of wondering "What the heck am I doing out here on this ridge?". I snapped a photo at that moment. It's amazing how benign the scene looks by comparison to the power of nature that was knocking me around at that moment. The photo didn't depict the freezing driving rain or the gale force winds.

I tried to hurry home but, believe it or not, some trails were still choked with a foot of heavy snow. I slogged along at a snail's pace even though I was working as hard as I possibly could. As I fruitlessly pedaled, I kept reminding myself that I *do* love mountain biking. By the time I finally caught sight of my house, the storm had abated and the sun was peeking through the clouds.

Yes, I do love mountain biking, and I love the wildness of the mountains. It's just easy to forget when I feel like a piece of driftwood caught in the maelstrom of mountain madness.