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8 April ~2008

My daughter suggested I get a Spot GPS Locator, and so I did.  It is a hand-held device that connects to a satellite network, and allows you to send messages indicating if you are ok (checking in), or if you are in need of help.  Along with each message are latitude and longitude coordinates that pinpoint where you are, and a link that plots your location on Google Maps.  This system works worldwide, beyond cell phone coverage.

I have mixed feelings about it, because I have to admit I enjoyed the romance and mystery of hiking off trail to a high ridge and setting up camp, with noone knowing where I was except my two border collies and God.  

After thinking about it some though, I still have the same capability.  I am absolutely lost until I turn on that device and check in, and it is my choice whether I do that or not.  

This weekend I climbed up a steep ridge near the Arkansas river headwaters, and continued up slope until I found a gorgeous little outcropping with a Ponderosa Pine on top and some level ground behind it.  I kept my gps locator silent until this morning at 5am, when I sent a message to test that it works.  When I got home there was an email message sent from the gps with my exact coordinates, and copies to both my daughters.  In an true emergency this thing would be priceless, although I never expect to have to use it for one.

What a great time though.  We found plenty of deer and elk sign, since the slope was south-facing, and they winter upon it.  There was also plenty of mountain lion sign, including two carcasses.  One was very fresh, and it was clear the lion was not done with it.  The ribs were partially eaten down.  I have heard that lions chew the ribs down to nubs, and that is how you can tell the difference between a lion kill and a coyote or bear-eaten carcass.

I learn plenty by watching my dog's behavior.  Ben was not interested in the carcass, but in a pile of scat underneath the thick branches of a nearby Juniper.  It was where the lion rested between meals.  Ben spent a few minutes rolling in the lion scat, and out of curiosity when he was done I placed my fingers on his back, and then smelled them - nothing, no scent that I could detect.  That sure is not the case when he has rolled in other piles of scat.  More than once I have thrown sticks in a lake or stream for him after rolling episodes, with the hope that he willl rinse off some some, since he sleeps in the tent with me.


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One time yesterday Ben came running through the pine woods to me, while looking over his shoulder.  When he arrived he stopped and looked back through the forest at something, which made me wonder what he came across to put such fear in him.

All three of us slept very well all night long.  Sometime in the night I detected the soft sound of snowflakes hitting the tent roof.  Later it seemed very quiet, which I enjoyed immensely.  When I opened the tentflap In the morning darkness I found why it was so quiet - my tent was covered with several inches of snow.  Ben was surprised by it, and hestitated before leaving the tent.    While I was punching the snow off the tent from the inside,  Ben disappeared, and was was late coming back to finish our night's sleep, which  worried me.   Me and Maggie sat in the tent opening while I whistled for him.  It was a long couple of minutes before I was relieved to see his eye shine bounding through the snowstorm.

I have to watch Ben close, because he has a tendancy to wander further from me than I like, or might be safe.  On trail I always keep him on leash, and when we are moving across country I often tie him and Maggie together, which keeps Ben nearer, since Maggie can't stand to be more than 50 yards from me.

I figure it is the wolf remaining in Ben that gives him the spirit to move quickly and hesitate on high places.  Maybe there is plenty of the wanderer in me also, that drives me to set a camp on a ridge overlook knowing that a storm is moving in.

It was still snowing hard at daybreak.  I made a fire and started preparing to head down the mountain, in case the snow kept up like that.  About an hour after sunrise it slowed to flurries though, and so I took my time breaking camp.

 It was a blessing to see the landscape in a cover of white - how it changes the look of the mountains in such a marvelous way.

Nobody tells me anymore what I am missing with my independent lifestyle, always going off alone with my dogs.   Even my mother has given up suggesting I change my solitary habits.

And you know none of what I am lacking comes to mind up there, in our freedom, us three looking out at what can be seen from high on a mountain.



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