Yesterday afternoon, a front moved into our neck of the woods. The breeze picked up, cold and damp. It felt like winter, and it looked like it was about to storm.
I pedaled slowly through the forest with Shyla by my side, up toward Hug Hill. Much to my delight, the fog bank started to recede back down the canyon while we were on Hug Hill. One by one, hills to the east of us (including Long's Peak) appeared as the fog around them receded back toward the flatlands.
The mother moose and new calf have learned where humans usually are and stay away from those areas. My last photo of them was from late June when I spotted the pair in a dense aspen forest as I rode my mountain bike. The calf is barely visible behind a tree off to the right of the mother moose.
The yearling bull...
My reading says that he probably wallows in this pit, getting the mud from it on his neck and antlers. That sounds yucky to me but apparently it's attractive to a cow moose!
This morning, Shyla and I stopped about a 100 yards from where the moose has been wallowing daily. Shyla was on high alert, and I was watching her closely so I'd know if there were moose nearby.
First she looked to her right with intense eyes.
I was charged last winter.