Almost immediately, some tracks caught my eye. In the left photo below, there is what I think is a mountain lion's single track. The key features are that it's as wide as it is long, and it has no claw marks. I looked at many of this lion's tracks today, and none had claw marks. For comparison, K's track is in the photo on the right below. Look how small and narrow K's track looks next to the lion's track. Also, notice the two very clear claw marks on K's track. The chemical handwarmer is for scale - it's 3.5" by 1.5". I tried to scale the two photos to make the handwarmer a similar size in both.
After we returned to my bike, I pondered why I'm seeing so many more lion signs this year than in the last two years. I realized that I'm also seeing innumerable tracks from the lion's primary prey animals, mule deer and elk. In contrast, last year, I saw almost no deer or elk tracks from late December through March when we had a deep snow cover. I'm guessing that deer and elk have stayed higher this winter due to our meager snow and the lions have stayed close to them.
After spending too much time wandering around the forest checking out lion tracks, K and I savored the blue sky, the sun, and the glittering snow. A wall of clouds crept up the valleys from the east, portending a gray, humid, and possibly snowy afternoon.
We climbed up to Hug Hill where the snowy mountains with their white cloud veil contrasted with the cobalt blue sky. I shared a joyful hug with my chocolate best friend. We agreed that we live in paradise.
To make the test of Spot more realistic, I accidentally fell when I tried to accelerate on some snow-covered ice in the gulch. My studded tires slipped sideways, and I bashed my kneecap on my handlebars. Lying on the ground, I felt that familiar light-headed nauseous reaction that startling sharp pain gives me. As I waited for it to pass, I decided that I had to get my own Spot so I'd be ready if I'm ever badly hurt.
I'd been pushing the pace up the gulch because I thought that the snowflakes were about to fly. The clouds had crept in from the east, obliterating the blue sky, and the humidity had risen to sunglass-fogging levels. When the snow is flying, I like riding on trails but I hate sharing the road with cars. I fear that they won't be able to see me or will slide out of control. Since part of my route home involved roads, I pedaled up the gulch with urgency. Only a few snowflakes have fallen so far.