Good days

Yesterday, in warm sun and still air, K and I hiked up to "Hug Hill", our absolute favorite lookout spot around here. We don't go there as often in the winter as in the summer because its slopes hold deep snow all winter long. During our trek yesterday, K was full of romping energy, leaving the packed path to plow through the loose snow.

When we arrived at the top, K seemed thrilled to be there! She gazed out toward the Continental Divide behind her.

When she noticed that I was clicking away with the camera, she "offered" a play bow. One of the fun side effects of using positive training techniques with K is that she loves to "offer" behaviors to see what will make me smile. In other words, she does tricks without any prompting from me.

At this time of year, our snowy world can become blinding, when the strong sun reflects off the white ground. K was continually squinting while we played on Hug Hill. So, I offered her my glasses. She carefully balanced them on her face and never dropped them.

She seemed to decide that she didn't like looking through them (maybe my prescription isn't right for her). She looks professorial, doesn't she?

We had a wonderful time, playing in the snow and enjoying the views. I'm guessing that that K and I have visited this spot more than a thousand times in her lifetime yet we never tire of it.

When we arrive home from our morning hike, we have a ritual. I feed her breakfast, and then I drag her new bed, so generously given to her by many of you, into a sun puddle. Yes, K is spoiled rotten.

In the warmth of the sun with a full belly, her eyes don't stay open for long.

These are good days, and we know it.

Nature's glory

Yesterday, I decided to heed the weather forecast, and I pulled another wildlife camera off a steep north-facing slope where the black bears live during the summer months. I took one last photo of "Bear Art" on a huge old Aspen tree. I won't see it again until next April when the snowpack melts enough to make it possible to walk the trail.

When I woke up this morning and peeked out onto our deck, I was very happy that I'd retrieved my camera yesterday. You can barely see the deck railing peeking over the snow. The big hump of snow is our metal round table.

I have to admit that my first reaction to seeing that huge pile of snow was to burrow further under the covers and sleep later than usual. Now that I can't telemark ski due to my spine, I don't love playing in snow as much as I used to. However, if I can overcome my inertia, I am always so happy to get out in it!

After a leisurely breakfast, I buckled on my snowshoes and started plodding through the seemingly bottomless snow. K frolicked like a puppy.

And, she turned into Frosty the Snowdog after one of her romps.

It was heavy and hard work breaking trail through snow that was nearly up to my hips. We didn't make it too far before we turned around and followed our tracks back home.

On the packed trail, K managed to keep her face a little cleaner so we can tell that she's a chocolate lab.

When we made it home, my spine needed the relaxing action of pedaling a bike after the wrenching work of breaking trail. I glanced at my stationary bike and said "Nah". Instead, I pulled out my snowbike and rode on quiet roads that were lightly plowed. I stopped on one road to look at the huge wall of snow that has grown weekly after each plowing this winter.

As I pedaled, the storm began to break, and I saw blue sky.

The mountains almost emerged from the clouds, but not quite.

I was very cold at the end of my ride but so happy that I'd gone out to see the glory of nature. To me, it is truly glorious, and I treasure each day, even the freezing cold ones.

A snowshoe hike and wildlife flurry

We are drinking up the spring snow, knowing how it is nourishing our forest. Yesterday evening, we took a peaceful sunset hike. The snow had a firm crust on top that the dogs could float on if they walked softly. K spotted this ledge that overlooks our meadows and padded out to the edge.

She gazed over the meadows for a few moments, and then backed away from the edge, still walking delicately to float on the snow crust.

First thing this morning, K and I headed out for a leisurely snowshoe hike because the snow is too deep and soft for snowbiking. I love meandering through the woods with my K as the sun rises.

K did lots of snow wriggling. That scratchy snow crust must feel wonderful on a dog's back.

After each wriggle, she shook, and my camera caught her with a crazed look on her face!

The snow crust was very strong. Although I needed snowshoes, K stood, walked, and ran atop the crust.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, the bluebird color shined intensely. K peered off a boulder as she played.

At the end of our hike, K gazed into my heart. Her eyes mesmerize me.

Later, I visited some of my wildlife cameras. I expected no photos because, usually, the animals stop moving around during and after big snow storms. Not this time.

Two elk cows walked under a huge Ponderosa Pine tree that mountain lions love to mark. In fact, a hulking pile of mountain lion scat sits just on this side of the tree. Funny, the elk didn't seem concerned. The photo shows one of them standing around sniffing the area as our snow storm was starting.

Here's the most recent mountain lion visit to the same spot, to give you a sense of perspective about the sizes of these animals.

Later in the night that our snowstorm hit, a rare event occurred. A mule deer doe visited our clearing and stood under our bear-proof bird feeding station. We haven't had a coyote visitor in more than a month. Perhaps that's why the deer visited recently while almost no deer have ever ventured into our clearing in the past.

Then, yesterday evening, a bobcat walked past one of my wildlife cameras, delicately walking atop the snow crust. Based on the blur in the photos, I think that he was moving fairly quickly.

Finally, a bobcat walked through our clearing last night. This was probably the same cat as my wildlife camera photographed earlier in the evening at the start of his patrol.

For so soon after a big snowstorm, that was a veritable flurry of wildlife activity!

Snowstorm and leaping elk

An amazing surprise storm hit us last night. Yesterday, K and I enjoyed a dry ride, with me pedaling my summer bike up to Hug Hill.

K rolled in the dry meadow grass, obviously wishing that it was snow.

Then, a fog started creeping up the valleys and slowly enveloped our world. The Pasqueflowers seemed to glow in the haze.

Later, as I rode solo, I intersected a band of elk, heading up to the hills from a meadow. A bull stopped to gaze at me through the fog.

By the time we took our evening hike, the sun had disappeared and snow pelted out of the sky.

The Duo surveyed the stormy meadow from a rocky ledge. I love how strong and lean they both look in silhouette.

Despite weather forecasts that predicted only a few inches of snow, we awakened to about 15" on the ground. It was wet and heavy snow - perfect to give our forest a long drink.

I knew that snowbiking was out of the question so I started my day with a snowshoe hike with the Duo through snow-laden pine trees. You can see R leading the way.

Both halves of the Duo porpoised through the snow, playing gleefully.

K seemed as strong as her brother in the bottomless cement-like snow.

R leading with the teeth...

R dashing through the snow.

They climbed atop a boulder outcropping.

But, R didn't stay for long. K looked down at him. I'm not sure if she disapproved or wished that she were as wild as he is!

After our hike, I hemmed and hawed about whether to ride my bike outdoors because the trails were impassable. Our dirt road already looked like a mud-fest due to rapidly melting spring snow, and I hate riding through thick road mud. However, I knew that if I ride my bike outdoors for another 10 days in a row, I will have achieved an entire year of riding outdoors every single day! So, I equipped my mud and ice bike with fenders and headed out to the dirt roads.

Within a few minutes, I was rewarded. As I rode down a quiet dirt road, a band of elk started running across one meadow and toward the road. The first elk crossed in front of me.

Then, the whole herd thundered toward the road, leaping a fence, one by one.

For the yearling calves, it was a big leap.

I didn't shoot any real video, but I compiled my rapid-fire series of still photos into a short video. If you can't view it here, try watching it on my Youtube Channel.

As I watched the elk, I was very happy that I'd weathered the "mud-fest" to go outside on my bike. I love seeing our wildlife, and I can't see them from an indoor trainer!

I arrived home, covered in mud but happy.