Entries from just my second season at Piute. One of the very best things about working and living in the backcountry was the ever-present opportunity to have unexpected encounters with wild critters. Unfortunately, those first few seasons I wasn’t recording many nature observations, focusing more on work and travel (and meals eaten). Later in the game I devoted more ink to neat experiences such as the following.
25 Jun (Sun) Continued an initial patrol of the country, riding to Harriet Lake and beyond with my little axe. ◦◦◦◦◦ Just after passing the Harriet junction and crossing the river I heard a strange sort of a “wailing” sound coming from back around the West Walker trail. Being a ranger, I felt duty bound to investigate so rode on back. Heard the weird sound no more but, almost back to the river, a baby coyote suddenly dashed across the trail right in front of me and scuttled under a fir sapling. I jumped off Ramon (who just stood there) and parted the low-growing boughs to get prime views from just a foot away. The pup hissed and growled, lips curled up to display a mouth full of tiny but very sharp teeth—pretty fearsome in a small way. Its fur was very soft and lustrous pale brown, tawny I guess is the word. Definitely baby-fur. Of course, I wanted to stuff the little wilderpup in my trash sack, take it home, and keep it as a cabin pet. ◦◦◦◦◦
So, why was this youngster wandering around in the woods by itself? It likely had siblings. I’d have to guess it just wandered off after waking up from a nap while mom was hunting for lunch. Things like this probably happen constantly out in the world at large and I was just lucky enough to be there at the right time. There’s little doubt that the pup and its mother were reunited—not too likely that other diurnal predators were about but a passing redtail hawk would’ve grabbed it in a heartbeat. Untold numbers of baby-whatevers get eaten while the mother is off taking care of business. (By the way: if it’s not obvious, I was being facetious in that remark about feeling “duty bound to investigate.” Of course I was going to investigate! Who wouldn’t?)
3 Sep (Sun) ◦◦◦◦◦ Sitting on the shore of Stella [Lake], I heard a roar and looked up in time to to see an immature golden eagle cruise right over my head, less than forty feet up, doin’ about fifty-five. Its wings were tucked…what a sound. ◦◦◦◦◦
©2018 by Tim Forsell 16 May 2018
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