There is a ridge in the front range of the mountains an Southwest of here that doesn’t see a lot of foot traffic. Below it runs a trail leading to a popular waterfall. To the North and above it runs a hiking trail up a somewhat popular mountain. Somewhat, because the grade and duration of ascent weed out the uncommitted. The ridge doesn’t really go anywhere, it fizzles out at a big scree field.
Enough sheep and elk hunters passed through to have carved out a bit of trail. From it’s false peak, I’ve watched a ewe with lambs relax in the sun below me, and a herd of elk wait out the heat of the day in the shade at its bottom. I’ve shot a blue grouse there once, when I still hunted with a compound bow.
Behind it is a little oasis, where water comes out of the rocks, creates small waterfalls, and a lush green creek bed. It’s a nice place to sit and relax, perhaps even snooze a bit. It’s also a place that grizzlies like.
It can be a hostile place, the area is known for big winds. Once I crawled behind a two-feet high rock, with hands so cold, I feared I actually had done some damage. I have hiked around it, to end up across a ravine from it, hoping that opening-day hunters coming up the main trail would push a ram towards me. There were hunters, obliviously skylining themselves, but no rams.
But today the weather was calm, there were no opening day crowds, and no bears. However, the climb up there was steep as ever. Perhaps even a little steeper. Finn and I worked our way up an avalanche chute, with many of the right plants, but without birds.
Crossing the barren slope to gain the ridge took a few breaks. Once there, we had barely started to follow the faint trail up when Finn got birdy. He dashed into the stunted trees lining the North side of the ridge, working his way up, with me panting and heaving trying to keep up. Just as I was thinking about calling a time-out Finn made contact, but didn’t manage to lock down the bird, that flushed onto the trail. Before I could develop unsportsmanlike thoughts, Finn followed through and thoroughly spooked the bird out of range. We continued for a bit, but lusted for the water and a sit down. We weren’t going to reach ptarmigan altitudes today anyway.
On the way down, I kept us below the ridge, in the trees, trying to string together the breaks in the cover. Finn’s bell kept chiming, and never stopped for more than a few seconds. Entering yet another clearing, a blue grouse erupted from below a lone tree. Nothing budged when I pulled the trigger, twice. Safety! A flick and a desperate swing were followed by an impressive puff of feathers. Finn quickly found the bird, but had some trouble, or was disinclined to acquiesce to my request of retrieval. As I came closer he brought the bird anyway.
We got sucked into a steep ravine, the best way out appeared down. It hardly was, but we made it, despite an unfortunate amount of bushwhacking. We even dodged the rain.
It was a good afternoon.
F.
Great article!