A Snapshot and The Scoop: The Rival

Torrey and I were preparing for a ten mile day hike the fourth day of our stay at Rocky Mountain National Park when a loud cry made us turn around. An elk had bugled right behind us, and as we watched she led a whole herd out of the forest towards our parked car. There were several females, a few young, and one huge male with a giant set of antlers. He crossed the road last, rounding up a couple of straggling youngsters to join the herd on our side of the road. Not long after they had safely crossed we noticed a young male pick his way out of the trees, his antlers hardly more than spikes and still covered in velvet. As soon as the big male saw the young rival he charged and the young male made a hasty retreat. I'm willing to bet he will continue hanging out around that herd though, until the big male chases him off for good.

Leave me a comment below and tell me if you've ever heard an elk bugle. It is eerie!

A Snapshot and The Scoop: The Visitor

Torrey and I were in the tent on the second evening of our Rocky Mountain National Park Adventure, waiting out the rain and hoping for dinner before dark. Torrey was dozing, I was writing, and all of a sudden I heard branches crack. I froze, listening, and heard them crack again. I quietly woke Torrey up, and she froze when she heard it too. We grabbed the bear spray and I put on a show of bravery that I did not feel at the moment, unzipping the tent and popping out to find myself facing a large female elk less than ten feet away. We stared at each other for a few seconds, then she put her head down to graze and I whispered to Torrey that it was an elk. We got out of of the tent and watched her for a while before Torrey noticed a herd of elk in the meadow across from our camp. We headed that way to see them, but I was too fixated on her and missed the herd. The female grazed around our camp for thirty minutes or so, forcing us to stay away and give her space until she moved on. At one point, only my four foot wide tent separated her from me. I had elk slobber on my tent where she bent her head down to check it out and nibble on the fly zipper. I was afraid she was going to eat my tent, or trample it at least! I was so thankful we had gotten out when we first heard her; if we were inside with her that close I would have been freaking out. What a cool experience!

Leave me a comment below and tell me about a close wildlife encounter you've had! I want to hear your close-call stories!

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Adult Tetris

If you think loading a dishwasher is hard, try cramming anything that smells but you absolutely need into a bear canister. Torrey and I were backpacking in Rocky Mountain National Park where they require bear canisters in the backcountry, and we had to figure out how to shove everything we needed for three days and two nights into one. Meals, snacks, the stove, pot, and spoons were priortiy (obviously), but we also wanted to fit in things like sunscreen and bug spray and toothpaste/toothbrush, and deoderant. It was a challenge, but we managed to get everything in there alright. In hindsight we didn't need to bring near as much food as we did, which wouoold have saved us weight and space, but oh well. At least we didn't starve!

Leave me a comment below and tell me if you've ever packed a bear canister. What did you put in, and how did you do it?

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Mountain Raspberries

Late summer in the mountains in raspberry season! Torrey and I hiked through several patches of raspberries on our trek through the Rockies in August, and it was lovely. We were on the look out for bears and spotted this adorable little thing stuffing her face with fat, ripe, juicy raspberries. She would scurry to one plant, eat a bunch of berries, then hurry to another. She wasn't bothered by us one bit. Berries are an important food source in the mountains, especially in late summer when everything is fattening up for a long and cold winter. Chipmunks aren't the only animals to hang out around a berry patch; lots of birds eat the berries too, as do bears! We were always cautious when entering a berry patch because surprising one of the park's thirty or so bears was not high on our list of things to do. Especially not a mother with her cubs. We didn't have any problems among the berries though, and enjoyed watching the little chipmunks run around with fat cheeks. Happy harvesting, little one!

Leave me a comment and tell me about a berry patch you came upon while on a hike or walk. What kind were they?

Getting Out of Lost Maples

Frazzled. I woke up in the backcountry at Lost Maples State Natural Area to Ghost standing over me, hackles raised, eyes fixed on some point outside our tent over my head, a low rumbling growl issuing from his chest. Pre-dawn diffused light filtered through the mesh upper three quarters of my tent, where I had left the rain fly off and had pretty much slept in the open. I don't think even the crickets were chirrping, but I wasn't focused on them; I went from dead asleep to wide awake in a matter of seconds, as soon as Ghost started growling. I sat up quickly, jostling Callie still snuggled in my sleeping bag and banging into Ghost because he was still standing over me, peering through the dim light into the forest around us. I caught a glimpse of something big and whitish, or maybe light tan, as it scampered away into the trees. We could hear the snapping of branches as it crashed away through the underbrush, and Ghost didn't stop growling until silence returned to our part of the forest.

At that point I was pretty much ready for the day, and slowly made my way out of the tent, still sore from hiking the day before. The dogs followed, staying close by my side as I moved around camp getting things torn down and ready to hike out. Coyotes howled somewhere in the hills, their direction impossible to discern due to the echoing canyons surrounding us. Before the sun had reached our side of the little valley we had camped in, we were on our way. Our trail followed a lush, green canyon that held on to the mists of the night before, this time of year laced with the yellows and reds of early autumn. We didn't hike fast, instead enjoying the morning stillness as we passed through.

After a spring, where Callie swam and Ghost waded, and a series of stream crossings, we came to our last steep uphill portion of the trail around the same time the sun was gaining height and heat in the sky above. The climb up was brutal; no shade, loose rocks that shifted underfoot with every step, and no clear "easy" way up. We just had to go for it. All three of us were panting as we reached the top and stopped at a bench that was clearly placed for our use. In the haze of exhaustion I didn't notice the ant hill near the bench, where Callie had decided to lay down. It wasn't good. Within seconds she was covered in giant ants with huge mandibles, crying and whining as she hopped from foot to foot, shaking her paws in an attempt to get them off. Her panic caused Ghost to panic, though he wasn't in the ants, and he tried to take off running and choked himself when the leash stopped him. I had swung Callie up into the air, away from the horde of ants now rising from the earth, and was swiping the little demons away from her paws and legs as fast as I could while almost losing my balance as Ghost tried to bolt.

I cradled Callie in my arms like a baby, trying to assess the damage the ants had done. Her paws were already swollen and hot to the touch, with raw spots and little cuts covering most of her pads. There was no way she could walk on them, and I wasn't about to make her, but we still had about three miles before we hit the trailhead and my car. I slung her over my shoulders and went to check on Ghost. Somehow he had managed to stay clear of the ants, or else they hadn't gotten him as bad, and he didn't complain as I checked out his paws. He seemed fine to me, and when we set out again, Callie still over my shoulders, Ghost walked with his usually peppy puppy self.

Those three miles were some of the longest I've ever hiked. I had to keep shifting Callie from shoulder to shoulder, to cradling her in my arms, to letting her rest on top of my pack. It was slow going, and as we started to near the trailhead and the dayhikers began filtering onto the trail I got a lot of weird looks and some offers of help. It was with a lot of relief when we finally hit the cement and spotted our car. I lay Callie on the front seat before doing anything else and she immediately began licking her poor paws. I left her to it and got my gear and Ghost settled in, before slamming my car door and blasting the A/C. Lost Maples had been pretty, and I would love to go back someday, but for the time being I was more than happy to leave. It had been an interesting trip, no doubt about that.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: McBride Canyon

Have you ever started something and realized pretty quickly that it maybe wasn't the best idea? That happened to me when I visited McBride Canyon at Lake Meredith National Recreation Area. I descended down into the canyon and saw the pavement change into dirt. Cool, right? Then more dirt roads started branching off of mine, until I realized I would likely end up lost on those roads without a map, or else I would spend a lot more time in the wide canyon than I wanted to when I was on my way to Colorado already. I turned around the first chance I got, but I would love to go back someday when I do have more time to go exploring. I would love to camp down there!

Leave me a comment and tell me about a time you realized something wasn't smart. I know I'm not the only one!

A Snapshot and The Scoop: The Flint Quarries

I made a pit stop at Alibates Flint Quarries National Monument on my way to Colorado this August, just to check it out. The national monument has always been close to the route I take to leave Texas when I travel west, but I've never stopped. I decided to check it off my list and see what it was all about. I didn't stay too long, but I visited the museum and visitors center and learned how the ancient people who occupied the area mined flint for tools and trade from the rocks that is so close to the surface. I saw examples of tools found in the area, from knives to scrappers to arrowheads, and also a representation of what a quarry would look like. I didn't take one of the ranger-guided tours due to time restraints, but I did drive the short park roads before leaving. Next time I'll take a tour!

Leave me a comment below and tell me if you've ever heard of this small national monument in the panhandle of Texas!

Is Two A Crowd?

Irked. When backpacking, it is very rare if things go the way you expect. You can have the most well-laid plans and they can all go to shit in the blink of an eye through no fault of your own, or all because of a decision you made. I had been itching to get out and backpack again in the middle of September, so one weekend I threw my gear in my car, grabbed Callie and Ghost, and hit the road. My destination was Lost Maples State Natural Area, deep within the Texas Hill Country and far enough south-west to be borderline desert. I had heard of Lost Maples before and had it on my list (literally) of places to visit, but hadn't gotten around to it yet. I figured the beginning of autumn would be a great time to visit a place with maple trees.

The roads to Lost Maples will have to be left to another post, but I absolutely loved them. So scenic, taking you between hill tops and down into river valley bottoms only to bring you right back up to far-reaching vistas. They were great! And once I reached Lost Maples, tucked way back in the hill country well out of cell phone signal, I couldn't wait to start walking trails like the roads I had just left. I picked up my permit, drove to the trailhead, and prepared for an overnight in the backcountry.

Now, remember, I had never taken Ghost backpacking before. We'd camped once, and hiked a little, but he had no experience with my full backpacking routine, or my gear. He was terrified of my trekking poles at first, though eventually he figured out he needed to walk on one side of me, not in front, and he would avoid them all together. Callie, I had expected to fall right back into the swing of routine, with her as seasoned as she is as my backpacking partner. What I had not expected were the issues I had with her right from the start. It was like she had forgotten how to walk on a leash; she was all over the trail, lagging behind then running ahead, weaving back and forth, tangling her leash with Ghost's and tripping me up at the same time. I couldn't help but get frustrated, wondering if she had lost her mind with the addition of the puppy.

The hike to our campsite for the night wasn't a fun one. I struggled with both dogs, trying to juggle them and my heavy pack overloaded with water and dog food in addition to my own gear. When we finally staggered into camp I tied the dogs off to a tree and sat on a rock, staring into space while rethinking my plan to backpack. Eventually my stubbornness won and I set about making camp, but I didn't spend a whole lot of time moving; all I wanted to do was sit down and read and forget about the day's hike.

As the afternoon melted into evening and the temperature dropped enough to allow me to not sweat while sitting still, Callie, Ghost, and I hung out around camp, watching the last light on the hills above us disappear. The air was so still, without a breeze to stir it or even an airplane high above, that we could hear the whirring of feathers as raven wings beat the evening sky on the way to their roosts. It was perfectly quiet, with only the crickets and night birds beginning their nightly serenades. When it was no longer possible to read without a headlamp we crawled into the tent and settled down with some semblance of normality. Callie came and snuggled up next to me in the sleeping bag and Ghost lay near my head, both of them immediately drifting off to sleep. At least they hadn't forgotten how to do that. I kept reminding myself "tomorrow is a new day" and began looking forward to finishing our loop hike, perhaps with a chance for the dogs to swim a little bit before we made it back to the car. With those final comforting thoughts I turned off my light and let the night take me away.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: The Best Camping Partners

Say what you will about the mess and the noise, dogs are some of the best camping partners a person can have. If you train them right dogs make very little noise, and you can use them to alert you if something is moving around your camp at night. As for the mess? Yes, you have to pick up after them, but you should be picking up your own trash and following Leave No Trace rules anyway. These two love to cuddle at night, with Callie even wiggling into the sleeping bag with me and Ghost keeping either my feet or my head warm. I love watching my dogs explore, swim, run, and keep pace with me on a trail. I might be biased, but adventure dogs, especially my two, are the best!

Leave me a comment or a picture showing your favorite adventure partners. Dog, cat, human, bird, squirrel, whatever!

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Big Straps to Fill

My newest adventure buddy has big straps to fill! This backpack used to be Marley's, but with Marley's age and health problems I don't get to take him with me on camping trips as much as I would like (plus he really does prefer to sleep on the couch next to Jared anyway), so it and his life vest stayed tucked away in a box. That is, until Ghost came into our lives. Ghost is a weimaraner (we think) and should be plenty big enough to fit in to Marley's backpack as soon as he grows up.  We've already started adventuring together with Callie and I can't wait until he can start knocking out long trails like Callie can do. He'll grow into the backpack and grow into another adventure buddy before I know it, and I am so excited to show him everything. I'm sure Callie will teach him even better than I can.

Leave me a comment below and tell me when you would start a new puppy on his/her first adventure. I love starting Ghost this young, so he won't be afraid of anything!