I’m out of the saddle for a few minutes along with my riding crew of two of my daughters, Linnaea and Melanie. I’m typing on my phone; later today I’ll head for a high ridge where I can hit a distant cell tower and send this out, and let Caryl know all is well.
We’re resting for an afternoon siesta in a dense aspen glade, and I can put down a few words while the beeves enjoy the shade and soft green grass. We have already put in an 8 hour day, and it’s only 2 o’clock in the afternoon. Unfortunately, we have literally miles to go before we sleep and will not be able to enjoy dinner at cow camp until after 10 pm. The beeves dictate our schedule, and with these long days of July, they move from can see to can’t see.
July heat hit hard down in the valleys this week, so I’m very happy we graduated to our higher elevation fourth cow camp: Texarkana. It is situated in the aspens at the base of thickly forested Table Mountain. It is a broken country with broad meadows dissected by timbered fingers. The trees offer welcome shade, but are certainly dark and deep and can be vexing to find our beeves in. It’s harder on the steeds as well, as they navigate thick brush, downfall and beaver swamps.
The grass is good, and in places is 3 feet high. It is still green and growing in many draws, thanks to the high elevation rains and snows that only melted 2 months ago. Even our camp is verdant, and our horses graze lush grasses for the first time; our previous camps were all semi desert grassland sites where the grasses are bunchgrasses, growing in clumps. Here it is continuous, thick and fairly dense.
It is like that with all wild things in the high mountain country: dense. From birdlife to buglife, the hills teem with life. The short growing season means that everyone has to get it done now. I ran into 3 groups of elk with newborns in tow. It was a good sign because they seemed fairly relaxed; they wouldn’t be if there were wolves on the hunt. Wolves cover huge ranges but sometimes a summer goes by where we have no altercations.
In camp Texarkana, we have situated ourselves very strategically for wolves and bears to avoid conflict. We have seen each of these in the high country of high Little Hat Creek on several occasions. We keep a clean kitchen, and food is locked in hard sided storage. The bedding ground for our beeves is very visible from camp. We have lights and a hazing plan to deal with wolves at night in a non-lethal manner.
Even with such precautions, we still suffered a violent attack last night. The violence, I must admit, was mostly on my part, coming from deep within me and stemming from a desperate need for shuteye.
Field mice strategized, organized and diabolocally planned their wee hours strike on camp Texarkana…and emerged victorious. They waited until the female members of the crew passed in serene slumber (they were exhausted). The cow boss, however heard the din of rattling kitchen gear, bags and boxes for most of the night. Earplugs are the winning strategy for me when I hit horizontal tonight!
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