Investing in the forest's future

The sunset glow on K's fur last night brought out its reddish chocolate highlights. She is so beautiful to me.
Then, this morning, K headed out onto our trails, fairly early, so I was surprised to be accosted by the local seven-pack of dogs at the start. After reaching truce with this bunch for the winter, they've been scaring K again. Recently, K snapped at one of the herding dogs who had just nipped her, and the whole pack went into high intensity fight-or-flight mode. It scared both of us more than I care to admit but a sharp yell and inserting myself between K and the pack stopped the fracas.

Since then, I've figured out a new strategy. I hop off my bike and set it up as a shield for K against the incoming dog missiles. It slows the dogs who are charging at us enough for their human to assert some authority and usually peace prevails. Moreover, by acting as her protector, I seem to calm K. Despite our so-far successful strategy, I'd prefer to avoid them altogether, however, so we'll start getting out even earlier. Funny, they're usually the only other people and animals that we see on the trails and usually within the first five minutes of our ride. Whew.

Today, after our canine interaction, K headed straight for the deep pine forest, where billows of green pollen exploded off pine boughs whenever we brushed against them. Yes, pine pollen season has just begun. That means that asthma season for me. K didn't mind - I caught her hurdling a small log across our trail.
After some hard riding through the air made thick with pollen, we took a break atop a boulder outcropping. What blue skies, absolutely endless in their depth and devoid of even a cloud wisp.
I carefully looked over the tiny flowers that are giving our forest floor a blue hue right now - low penstamons. I noticed the light fuzz on the step and outside of the flowers looking almost like sparkly dew.
While I was engrossed by these tiny gems, as always, K found a sentry post in the shade behind me and covered my back. I never trained her to guard me - it seemed to come naturally to her.
After I dropped K off at home, I took a sinuous path that passes a very old homestead. All that remains is the boulders that comprised the foundation. However, surrounding the crumbling foundation, the flowers that the inhabitants planted bloom every year. Just today, the lilac had started its song.
This sight felt ironic to me, as I stopped and enjoyed the fruits of the labor of people who are probably long gone. We recently planted 80 tiny seedlings on our land, about half Ponderosa Pines and half Lilacs. It's a labor of love, an investment in the future of our forest, knowing that these plants and trees may not reach their full glory in our lifetime. That's why I especially appreciated the 8' tall blooming lilac today.

Further along, I hit a wildlife corridor, much like Black Bear Trail. I'd love to put a camera there but it's too far from home. I saw many signs of bears foraging and scent marking, and I saw their favorite foods slowly growing and blossoming. Chokecherries always capture my fancy because their blossoms have such flashy stamens, reminding me of my departed yellow lab's long blond eyelashes.
The chokecherries bloomed close to the only waterfall anywhere on my riding routes. And, most years, it's a trickle. This year, I could hear it from 75 yards away as the rainwater of recent days tumbled down a ravine.
I think that we have a spectacular wildflower season ahead of us because of our multi-day rain storm. The Cordilleran flycatchers who nest under our deck hope that we have banner year of flies ahead of us.
Our nesting pair arrived from Mexico on May 30 and immediately started constructing a nest on the tray that I built them under our deck. In our first years in this house, they'd try to nest atop the deck's supporting posts, and they lost their nests to predators every year. Since starting to use the trays, they've had a 100% success rate. Just yesterday, the female began incubating her eggs - usually four. Her tail and head barely protruded above the sides of the tray. My fingers are crossed for our pair. Life is so precarious.

Summer musings

I have to admit it - Black Bear Trail is astounding me every single day. I've lived here for years, and I always knew that bears frequented our forest during the summer. However, until I installed my remote wildlife cameras, I had absolutely no idea how frequently bears amble along certain routes.

Today, I spent more than an hour on Black Bear Trail, adding a camera and moving the others to slightly improve their views and to have them in position to monitor other obvious bear saplings. I'm calling the pine saplings that the bears rub their backs on "bear saplings", and innumerable bear saplings line Black Bear Trail. I love the crazy walk that the bears use when they mark the saplings. Several of you asked if bears urinate when scent marking a tree, and if the crazy walk might prevent them from peeing on their legs. My reading says that bears do tend to "dribble urine" while marking trees - so your guesses were correct!

Today's memory card check showed a few seconds of one bear ambling by with his/her snout high in the air sniffing in the past 24 hours. I'll save the footage to put together with the next ursine appearances on Black Bear Trail. I also found some tracks. A black bear somewhere has brown muddy paws! My small foot is in the photo for scale. I must say that it looks petite next to the bear tracks!
The endless storm finally broke yesterday, and the sun set behind a tumult of storm clouds.
We strolled out to our favorite sunset viewpoint. What furious looking clouds. I'm glad that they've receded!
On recent evenings, K and I have played on our agility course. After 6 months of snow closing our agility course, I expected K to be rusty. However, aside from occasionally popping out of the weave poles early, she remembered every obstacle as if we hadn't taken a long break from agility. Here, she lay on her Pause Table. Because of my back pain, I wish that I had multiple pause tables throughout the course. I use K's "pause" to catch up with her!
This morning, our world had returned to normal, with deep blue skies, warm sun, and a sweet pine fragrance. K and I burst out the door for a happy mountain bike ride. After days of wearing my heavy winter cycling gear, I felt the sun on my shoulders today!
We headed straight up to the top of our world, where timid K offered her favorite trick, balancing atop a stump.
I feel lucky that I found a kind and gentle way of training K when she was a little puppy - a training philosophy that lets an easily scared girl like K feel confident and smart. More than a decade ago, I used "traditional" dominance-based methods to train Acadia, a chocolate lab, to be a search and rescue dog. Those methods worked but I never felt good about using them on an animal who I loved.

When K came into my life, I found a trainer who uses positive reinforcement rather than punishment and dominance to train dogs. Thank goodness! K would have melted into a puddle of terrified canine if I'd ever "corrected" her in the ways that dominance-based methods require. Moreover, due to the way that they were trained, K's and R's off-leash behavior is excellent. They act enthusiastic about doing fantastically fun recalls rather than adopting 'hang-dog' submissive postures. I pondered all those things as K stood proudly on her stump today. I am certain that she wouldn't have stood so proud if I'd forced her into submission as a young dog.

When we descended from the top of our world, we found that yesterday's Columbine bud had become a blossom. Every year, it's a glorious day when I find my first blooming delicate Columbine. K and I hugged as I gazed at it.

After I left K at home, I rode solo next to fields of irises with a snowy peak watching over them. It's summer down here but still winter up in the true alpine zone.
I felt like I had a million amps of energy to throw into my pedals today so I zoomed along, enjoying the vacant trails and glorious views.
Summer stretches out in front of me like a buttery smooth trail winding through aspen groves. Happy days!

Blinded by the light

Early this morning, a bedraggled coyote visited our clearing. Our incessant rain matted down his luxurious coat, showing how small and thin his body is.
When I rolled out on my mountain bike this morning, I dressed for the projected break in the weather. Instead, I received another aerial bombardment of drenching rain. K truly didn't seem to mind. I think that she likes the cool air.

Our world was so gloomy that I needed a flash to take K's photo with the mountains behind her. The raindrops on her fur sparkled in the flash.
K and I have a rapport on the trails that it takes years to build. She almost always hovers nearby and guards me when I get focused on taking photos. However, on one section of trail, it's very important that she stay glued to my side. In past weeks, I started emphatically reminding her to "heel" through that section. Her response was to wander... and then drift around aimlessly when I reminded her yet again to "heel".

Finally, this weekend, I remembered that my trainer once pointed out to me that K gets nervous and becomes incapable of obeying me when I ratchet up my intensity. So, I started acting relaxed through that section of trail and didn't remind K to "heel"- and K stayed glued to my side like she usually does. The moral of the story is that an exquisitely sensitive dog like K will react badly to a tone that sounds like an "order". I don't know why I briefly forgot that lesson except that I get nervous when we're passing through that locale.

Here's my sweet girl as we were in the 'dangerous' zone. I hadn't said a word about heeling but there she was, gazing at me from my side.
After K and I finished our ride, I was so drenched that I put on a complete new set of clothes, including new shoes, with an emphasis on warmth and waterproofness. Just my luck, within 15 minutes after heading back out into the rain, the world was transformed by the clouds lifting and warm sun rays touching our slice of earth. I ended up with a ton of rain gear in my backpack, a load that my spine is still protesting. But, I was literally sweltering inside that clothing once the sun hit me.

The first appearance of the sun, the mountains with fresh snow, and blue sky in days... I was almost blinded by the sunlight!
As I rode, I noticed a deer behaving incredibly oddly. She was very close to me, so close that I could see her ribs protruding from her chest. She needs food. The odd part was that her stare kept shifting from me to something behind me. Here, she stared at me.
Next, she stared over my right shoulder.
I didn't see anything out of the ordinary where she was looking but I guessed that either she had a fawn hidden nearby or a predator lurked in the boulders behind me. Whichever was true, I took it as my cue to exit the scene. One of my scariest animal encounters was when I accidentally scared up a fawn. The mother deer charged me, stopping only when I hoisted my bike over my head to make myself look more imposing. K was with me and stayed glued to my side acting terrified. The mother escorted us, from about 20 yards away, out of the area. It's hard to believe that a doe scared me more than any bear or lion that I've encountered but she did.

Today, I visited a ridge and reveled in the views of flowers and mountains as I continued to overheat in the sun. These are the days of summer when the mountain world moves at a furious pace to fit an entire growing season into a couple of months.
On my way home, I spotted one of the benefits of rain - a columbine almost ready to open! Columbines sing the mountain song more soulfully than any other flower.
Alas, as I arrived home, the world turned dark and angry again, although those mountains that I love so much still stood proud and visible.After I arrived home, I checked the memory cards from Black Bear Trail. Both a bobcat and a bear had traveled through, with the bear using his/her now-familiar method of marking a pine sapling. I wonder how long the bear parade will continue? I believe that it's related to bear breeding season, which I've read goes on for about a month. I plan to plant another camera on this trail with the goal of capturing close-up footage of the "back-scratching" dance!

Unexpected sweet ride

I spent most of my blogging time adding a new feature to my blog's layout. Now, in the sidebar, there's a list of my wildlife photos/videos from 2010 to make it easy to find them. I could watch the "Bear Den Action from 3/29" videos a zillion times and never stop laughing. That sow and her cubs played with such abandon!

The real impetus for adding the new feature was yesterday's bear video. The silly walking and tree marking by the bears is amazing to watch!

Today was an example of why I head out into the forest regardless of how awful the conditions appear from the warmth of my perch in front of the fireplace. It was raining hard and the temperature was in the 30s. I spent at least 45 minutes gathering together all my warmest and most waterproof clothing to avoid the near-hypothermia that I got yesterday. As I departed, I promised myself that I'd stay out for at least 20 minutes. In the end, K and I had such fun that we stayed out many times longer than that!

As we headed out into the pelting rain, K immediately alerted "Bear, bear, bear" with her body language. I thought that I saw a black rump disappearing into the forest but really wasn't certain that it was a bear. Later, my neighbor who I passed on the trail just after K's bear alert called to say that she saw a big bear in that exact spot just after passing me. Her 7 dogs, including 4 miniatures, chased him off.

K seemed happy but on "high bear alert" for our entire ride. Even her gallop looked happy!
The rain enhanced the wonderful spicy fragrance of the meadow floor. K wriggled and rolled ecstatically.
Then, she realized that I was taking photos and went into her dignified pose! Even while posing, she seemed concerned with animal scents wafting through the air.
Late in our ride, for a fleeting instant, the sun almost burned through the heavy storm clouds. I photographed K in the "bright" light.
Then, I photographed the trail because it seemed so amazing to see the sun.
When I looked at the photos, I chuckled. It wasn't sunny - but it was the only glimmer of light that we've seen all weekend long. It goes to show how perception shapes our view of the world. If I've seen dark days, it only takes a faint glimmer of sweetness and light to lift my spirits.

That's why I don't view "bad" things as entirely negative. For example, because I have so much back pain, I stop and revel in the sweet moments that come upon me unexpectedly. Today's ride was one of those. Our forest was showered in life-giving water. And, I felt such a bond to K as she floated along by my side through the beauty. That's a gift.

Black Bear Parade

Yesterday evening, we zoomed out for a hike during a break in the pelting cold rain. We first walked toward the road for a moment, and our leashed dogs erupted into frenzied barking. We spotted a bear who'd just crossed road and ambled away from us into the forest behind a neighbor's house. Because K vibrated and snarled with aggressive excitement and yanked on me, my photo turned out blurry.
Based on a bear so close to houses, it's not terribly surprising that a veritable bear parade was moving through Black Bear Trail, an isolated wildlife corridor deep in the forest. I'm guessing that at least three bears made appearances. The two who were obviously adults marked the sapling by scratching their backs against it. Both also used a bizarre stiff-legged gait just before and after marking the tree, where they stomped their paws hard into the ground and swung their legs out wide.

In the very first clip in the video, it looks as if the bear is hurt because of this bizarre gait. In fact, I believe that he'd just marked a tree that was barely outside my cam's detection zone and was still using his stiff-legged gait. When he arrived at the next camera, he walked normally until he was close to the marking tree. I'm calling "him" a "he" for convenience. I don't know his sex. However, I'm guessing that the two starring adults are tracking each other down by scent and may form a breeding pair.

Finally, a small bear passed one of the cams. I wish that we could see him better but his cinnamon coat makes me wonder if he's one of the yearling cubs who was in the den that I monitored this winter. That would make sense, particularly if his mom was one of the earlier bears to pass the cams. Yearlings often trail their mothers from a distance soon after the family break-up.

Enjoy the video!



On another front, K and I had a freezing bike ride in zinging cold rain interspersed with graupel, wet icy pellets. Even my tough Labrador looked a bit dubious of our outing at times.
Graupel covered her at various times, and she couldn't look up for a photo because it stung her eyes.
Most animals, aside from the parading bears, seemed to be hunkered down. However, an unfortunate Gray Jay family had fledglings who appeared to have just left the nest. They cawed insistently and tried to follow their parent from tree to tree despite their difficulty in learning to land on the slippery branches. Below, the fledgling has his beak open, raucously yelling "FOOD, FOOD, FOOD"! I hope that they survive this cold snap.
Pine boughs dripped with rain. One advantage to this rain is that it might take down all the pine pollen, averting our yearly pine pollen dust cloud that lasts for about a week. It covers everything, and I truly mean every single object, in green dust. Last year, a storm like this one washed all the pollen to the ground and we had no asthma-inducing pine pollen storm! I'm hopeful for this year...
I was glad to arrive home, and I spent a long time in a very hot shower trying to get blood to flow to my toes and fingers!

Neck and neck

We hiked at sunset last night, enjoying the birds singing, the squirrels chattering, and the cool night air. As usual, we started with a couple of recalls to remind the dogs to listen to me during the hike.

On their first recall from a side-by-side stay, I captured the first stride, showing that the two dogs started neck and neck.Competitive R used his first stride to cut off K so that he could "win" the recall. It's interesting watching the interactions between two dogs with such divergent temperaments. K reticently lets him win every time. She seems to sprint harder when she does a recall by herself. Then, in certain situations, like when they play with stick, she turns on her afterburners and outruns him. I don't totally understand their relationship but it's fascinating to watch it evolve.
We scrambled up to our sunset lookout point just two minutes before the golden orb fell below the Continental Divide. The duo sat for a photo in the slanting sun rays like a pair of bookends.
As the sun dropped the last inch below the mountains, the green aspen leaves stood silhouetted in its light.
We turned and started the short hike home. Now that I know that the mountain lions roam so close to our house after their deer kill a couple of weeks ago, I hustle to the safety of home after the sun sets. But, during our hasty retreat, I did notice a harbinger of our weekend of tumultuous weather, including freezing temperatures and lots of precipitation, some of it snow.
This morning, K and I rolled out for an easy ride, and I immediately noticed signs of bear activity on our trails. I pass this tall stump daily, and it didn't have a cavern dug out of it yesterday.
Other stumps and trees showed signs of a bear foraging, including a lifeless Ponderosa Pine stripped of its bark, exposing an orange fungus with a spotted beetle on it. I think that the beetle was lucky not to have become bear food last night!
As K and I pedaled up to thin air, the view to the south showed a cloud front enveloping our world.
K seems to have decided that posing is *always* appropriate on our favorite hill. I love the look on her face in this photo.
Later, the clouds lifted for an instant, giving me a last peek at the mountains for a few days.
It's amazing how many new flowers are emerging each day. A parsley flower spread its canopy wide like an umbrella in the midst of a forest of flowers.
And, another yellow flower, a cinquefoil, just opened its rose-like petals to the sky.
When it rains it pours, whether I'm focusing on how many new flowers have blossomed overnight or the pelting raindrops ringing as they bounce off of our metal roof. I hope that the nesting birds and other wildlife parents can handle this winter blast while raising their young. I hope that the just-sprouted seedlings in my vegetable garden can withstand it. The wild vacillations in mountain weather must be tough for all of the animals and plants.

Happy Weekend to everyone!