Storms have chased me everywhere recently, it seems.
I've been going through an extremely bad phase with my spine. Jolting electrical pain down my legs has made life miserable. It's been tough to keep moving but I know, from many years of experience, that motion is the best thing.
K joins me for easy mountain bike rides every morning. Look at that sky over the Divide even early in the morning! It's rare to be rained on and hear rumbles of thunder at 8 AM but it happened yesterday.
The Divide almost disappeared behind swirling and angry clouds a little later in my ride.
The stormy skies seem to reflect whatever is going on in my spine. I've done something, although I'm not sure what, to make my nerves very very angry. It wasn't the epic odyssey that I wrote about in the last post because I was fine for more than 2 weeks after that ride.
So, I'm keeping moving and trying not to let the word "surgery" creep into my thinking. I know that another fusion is sitting out there in the future waiting for me (my MRIs show a host of disintegrating discs) but I'm trying to delay for as long as possible to protect the remaining unfused parts of my spine. As soon as more joints are fused, the stress increases at the adjacent ones and degrades those discs. Thus, a fusion tends to increase in length as the remaining discs fall like dominoes.
Yesterday, during my easy ride, I ran into a friend who has a young horse. Her horse is inexperienced around bikes so we joined together for a combined horse and mountain bike excursion for a short loop. We were quite a sight - a mountain bike in front, a young and peppy trotting horse with a rider behind me, and finally a loose horse running along next to us. My friend and I giggled the whole way!
After saying farewell to the horse brigade, I spotted a mother wild turkey with TEN babies. I captured a photo of the mother and three babies but the others were nearby. The babies look almost ready to set out on their own.
Getting out and moving is the best thing for me. And, along the way, I see so many beautiful things that I briefly forget the pain - a very good thing!
Our R can go from sound asleep... ...to 40 mph in less than 5 seconds, especially if we're on the trail of wild turkeys. As we hiked today, we wild found turkey tracks for the second time this week near our house. At least two turkeys walked together through our snowbound forest. The Labraduo thought that turkey scent meant bird hunting. They became insanely excited, as you might expect for a pair of bird dogs. Sorry, you goofy dogs! Instead, it meant that we practiced obedience right next to the turkey scent. This is a frequent strategy of mine - practicing stays and recalls in the presence of the most exciting scents. I think that this training helps my dogs behave when we meet the real animal face-to-face in our forest!
Here, the duo did a stay almost directly over the turkey tracks. Notice that NO eyes are on me. That's OK - they stayed! It's finally spring here again. Even the mule deer are shedding their antlers so they can grow new velvety ones before fall. And, look at the green emerging from under the snow. Yipee for springtime!!!!
During our evening hike yesterday, winter rushed back into the mountains. First, it hailed and then it snowed. The hail pellets covered the ground as the duo ran to me. This morning, snow had transformed the forest from a warm and greening oasis to a freezing and white place. Because the snow was only an inch deep and I have studded mountain bike tires, K and I headed out for a ride on the trails. It's hard to believe that the aspens will have green leaves in a month! Can you find K in the lattice of snowy branches? We were the only ones on the trails, as far as I could tell. Even the wildlife seemed to be hunkered down in protected places. However, as we rolled along a perimeter trail, we spotted turkey tracks. They strutted along the trail for a bit and then veered toward a canyon. I thought that I'd come back later to track where the turkey had gone. Little did I know that those tracks would be invisible under a barrage of snow before too long. K and I arrived home, and the snow intensified. Neither my bike nor my back seemed happy with the hard work of plowing through sticky snow so I ditched the bike and hiked for a bit with the Labraduo. Almost immediately, we found fascinating tracks. A coyote had made a flying leap into a juniper bush, had taken a few steps backwards, and then had dispatched his prey. At first, when I saw blood by a coyote track, I feared that the coyote had been shot, after our recent coyote killing. However, beyond a well trampled area with lots of blood, a clean set of tracks walked deliberately away from the kill site. No blood dripped around those tracks so I surmised that the coyote was not bleeding. I decided, with the dogs on leash, to follow the coyote tracks for a while. We found a second site where the coyote had stood still, melting deep paw tracks, and then pounced into the snow. Based on the blood, he ate some more breakfast - perhaps a mouse or a vole. The coyote seemed to wander almost aimlessly around the meadow and its fringes as he hunted. He paid special attention to small aspen groves, shrubs, and boulders, circling them before moving on.
Eventually, we veered off his tracks so that the dogs could frolic. Just after I finally let them run, we took a break from the snow tumbling out of the sky under a huge Ponderosa Pine tree. Its canopy almost completely protected us. When we left the giant tree, we started heading toward home. The snow had covered us, and I was freezing. R seemed to snarl at the streaking snow. Then, he lunged toward my camera as I photographed his snarling face! I was truly cold when I walked in the house. So, I built a crackling fire, and the three of us dried out and warmed up in front of it. It's a pretty big storm, with our accumulation already approaching a foot. April snow makes May flowers!
We started our day yesterday with a hike up a favorite ridge, from a trailhead a short drive from home. K and I climbed up the south side of the slope, which aside from gullies and small forested sections, was dry! Because the boys of the family were running out ahead of us, the start of our hike was an exercise in recalls. I'd release K, she'd accelerate to try to catch the runners, I'd call her back to me, and then we'd repeat! Below, she's recalling after one of her short chases. Despite our 'game' of recalls, we rapidly climbed to an elevation with a view. K ecstatically sniffed a scent. The scent might have been elk - it appeared that after our 4' of fresh snow last week, the crafty elk herd headed for this south-facing hillside, knowing that the grass would emerge here first. Once we attained the spine of the ridge, we walked on the brink between two worlds, the dry and grassy south-facing slope and the deeply snow-covered north-facing slope. K stood on the edge of the snowy and tree-dominated north-facing slope in the photo below. I walked just on the edge of the snow, watching for animal tracks. I've ridden my mountain bike on this trail hundreds of times and have seen animals and their tracks crossing the ridge from one section of wilderness to another. Last fall, I saw the tracks of a mother mountain lion and her large kitten on two occasions. They climbed up from the south side following the least steep slope and crossed into the forest at a saddle in the ridge. At that same saddle, I had a bobcat try to sneakily cross the ridge just behind me as I perused a wildflower last summer. He came within about 20-30 yards of me... don't worry, bobcats aren't dangerous to humans - they're too small.
Yesterday, I saw a maze of elk tracks, some deer tracks, bobcat scent posted freshly marked with scat, and one somewhat rare track - a huge turkey track. The turkey left only about 4 tracks, and I know that hunting season is either here or approaching so I tried to rub them out. But, the ground was still frozen solid so I couldn't. I hope that this big bird makes it through the season! At one point, I strayed into the snow, looking even more intently for the tracks of rarer animals - perhaps the track of an awakening bear or a lion. But, I didn't find any. K stood and watched. After I turned around to head back toward the car, we met the boys. The Labraduo broke into wild playing in the snowy sections. It was funny that the snow itself seemed to trigger the play. As an interesting note for anyone who has a dog with joint problems, we've noticed that Adequan injections (liquid glucosamine) have given K her top sprinting speed back. She has the start of arthritis in her spine so we decided to try to head it off with Adequan. Since starting it about 6 months ago, her top speed as returned to scorching levels, and she can even outrun R! We brought along my bike so that I could start my ride from someplace new, expanding my horizons since I still can't ride all that far. As I rode along a dirt road, I noticed that a few aspen buds were bursting open. These will become fuzzy catkins, essentially aspen seeds, and are a delicious food for wildlife, including birds and bears. Now, for some odd reason, the aspens in this particular spot are always weeks ahead of every other aspen tree in the area each spring. So, everyplace else, the aspens have only red buds. I had a great ride in perfect conditions with sparse traffic and made it further up my road than I have since my surgery, reaching a point where I could glimpse a new view. I think that my favorite part of surgery is feeling the incredible rebuilding properties of the human body. It can be beaten down but almost always springs back! After that morning flurry of activity, I came home and put together a video clip of bear play from outside the den. Notice that one cub definitely looks bigger, plays more aggressively, and roams further from the den than the other. Perhaps that is a sign that we have a male and female yearling in this family. In any case, the footage makes it obvious that a bear family is a tight-knit and loving clan. These are sensitive and caring creatures, and they are most definitely NOT the scary monsters that so many people envision.
Also, keep in mind that this rambunctious play occurred within about an hour of the family coming out of the den for the first time in a long time (except for mom's short trips to eat snow and urinate). Imagine having muscles that can stay so strong while lying still for months on end! Bears have amazing physiological tricks that make it possible for them to run at full speed and climb trees almost immediately after sleeping for months. After lying still for that long, humans would lose so much muscle strength that they would probably have trouble standing upright immediately after leaving the den. Then, it would take a human months to rebuild their muscles. Bears are amazing!
Winter reigns here at 8200' but today I felt ready for it. K and I rolled out the door with me outfitted for a below-freezing ride with sporadic aerial bombardments by snowflakes. We toured our local trails, watching for wildlife activity because my husband and R have found two separate fresh deer legs in the past two days. Despite perfect tracking snow, we saw no lion tracks - only bobcat and coyote.
Despite the snow, we climbed up to our local peak for a mountain view. The storm transformed the Divide although I could see only two mountains through the curtain of clouds. K sat next to me while I surveyed the beauty. But, she stuck out her tongue when I photographed her! Perhaps it's one of those nervous tongue flicks that dog behaviorists mention frequently. I'm still limiting K's exercise so I dropped her at home in what felt like a very short time. I rolled out on my own planning to do a favorite summer loop. I rolled through a meadow and the autumnal hue reminded me that summer has passed. Moreover, the snow on the forested hills behind the meadow reminded me that winter has visited early. Believe it or not, another 6-12" of snow is forecasted for the next 24 hours. I climbed up to a ridge, pouring every ounce of energy into my pedals but barely maintaining forward motion. I stalled out on rocky uphills that I usually dance over as if they're not there. When I topped out, feeling like I'd just climbed Everest, I realized that something wasn't right. Either my body has gone past its fitness peak and has plummeted into the dark abyss of fatigue or the extra work of grinding through snow and sticky sand put me over my limit. Regardless of which it was, I was feeling completely depleted of energy on what's usually an easy ride.
At least the wintery views rewarded my laborious climbing.
When the pitch veered upward yet again, I spotted about six craning necks, peering up over the willowy grass. The long skinny necks belonged to wild turkeys. With each step, their heads glided forward and then retracted backward in that odd bird mannerism. By the time I had my camera out, just one silhouette remained. I hopped back on my bike, and tried to ride nimbly and fast up this little hill, but actually moved at a snail's pace. Despite my slow progress, I was rewarded with a view of at least a half dozen wild turkeys walking nonchalantly down the ridge-side and into some shrubs. Only the strutting male remained within view by the time this snow-moving biker had her camera out. But, he soon turned tail and walked into the shrubs with the rest of the flock.
These birds have a prehistoric appearance, like something from early in evolution. They live in flocks of up to 40 birds, both male and female. They spend most of the day foraging on the ground but then fly into pine trees to roost overnight. Apparently, mountain lions find them to be a tasty treat. I wonder if a nocturnal lion will climb a tree to attack a sleeping turkey.
The fun encounter with the turkeys buoyed my energy and spirits but soon I settled back into the laborious grind. As I started to worry that I wouldn't make it home in time to take K to her vet appointment, my chain started jumping from gear to gear. I stopped, tried to fix it, put away my tools (big mistake), tried to ride a little, took out my tools again, and then finally did fix it. At least it happened in a beautiful place!
I thought, OK, now I need to hammer home to make it in time for K's vet appointment. At that moment, a snapping and then scraping sound came from my front wheel. Ruh, roh - I stopped, again. A broken spoke. How does a tiny woman break a spoke when riding along on fairly easy terrain? OK, I did hop some rocks but nothing extreme! It seemed to take forever to disentangle the spoke from my brakes and hub. Eventually, I succeeded and rode my wobbly wheel homeward feeling a tinge of fear about what would break next.
I made it just in time to rush to the vet, sans shower (sorry Dr. Vet), to get more tests done on sweet K. She's worth it.
As the sun set, the sky behind the mountains tinted purplish gray. I watched it with our two younger labs, after dropping S off at home. Alas, walking up to the sunset viewpoint has become an exhausting excursion for S so we do a short walk with him and then take the younger labs out for some more energy-burning exercise. I missed S as we watched the sun set.Overnight, our wildlife camera, activated by motion, snapped a photo of a coyote visiting the base of our bird feeders. The camera is set to take a photo every 30 seconds as long as it perceives motion. It snapped only one photo so I'm guessing that the flash immediately scared away the coyote. I wonder if this guy is a parent, out foraging to bring home food for his mate and pups. Or, perhaps he's a youngster, helping an older breeding pair raise their young. My impression is that the local coyotes currently have very young and helpless pups in dens, and that the mothers aren't venturing far from the dens yet. This morning, as K headed out for a short walk with my husband, she visited almost exactly the same spot - and had her photo taken. You can see that K exceeds the coyote's size, but not by much! You can also see that her body language exudes tentativeness and fear. She's leaning backward relative to her front paws. She's slightly raised her hackles. To me, she looks ready to turn around and flee at the slightest provocation. I'm certain that she smelled our nocturnal visitor. I rolled out the door on my mountain bike, with K by my side, a little bit later, to singing birds, chickadees entering and leaving one of our nestboxes, more infant aspen leaves, and rapidly changing cloud formations.Along one trail, the emerging aspen leaves almost blocked the mountain views. I'm not complaining! After dropping K off at home, I noticed a Golden Mantled Ground Squirrel sitting stationary on a red rock, nearly camouflaged, monitoring my progress. I wouldn't have noticed him except that I know this rock's usual shape perfectly so the tan head jutting above the rock caught my eye. As I rode along enjoying the warm sun on my back, a variety of animals crossed my path. Two deer tried to cross the trail in front of me but one of them decided to hide by freezing in place. I saw him close-up, and he had a healing gash on his side. It looked like he'd had a nasty struggle with something sharp - barbed wire or perhaps a cat - that had left a 10" long curved deep cut on his side. Today, the cut itself had almost healed, and fuzzy new fur filled in around the wound.
A little bit later, a wild turkey moseyed across the trail in front of me. He strutted confidently, even when I dropped my bike, pulled out my camera, and started angling for a good photo. He walked away patiently as his oversized bird feet tracked up a hillside. The prehistoric-looking bird weaved from side-to-side at a brisk walk, making his own switchbacks to avoid climbing steeply. Wild turkeys can run fast and even fly but he didn't seem to think that I posed a serious danger.
This turkey looks like a 'he' to me based on the reddish throat but I'm not certain because the body looks so brown - no greenish black tint like the bird guide book photos show on the body of a male. Can anyone help me? By the end of my ride, the clouds had reformed in a new creative pattern over the mountains. I'd enjoyed my ride but never felt the springtime elation that a day like today usually brings me. I think that our many recent stresses are taking their toll. I certainly feel it in my spine - muscle spasms that start just hours after a bike ride and headaches that won't quit. On the upside, I had one piece of good news yesterday - my immune system is fine. The extremely low neutrophil count and ensuing drama was manufactured by a serious lab error and then the lab's lack of communication with my doctor. Now, if only S's cancer would spontaneously disappear. I know it won't happen but I can dream.
