Journal July 4th – Things That Go Splash In The Night
It was hot and humid all day, muggy, until the skies burst forth with rain and thunder and lightning – appropriate for the fourth of July. And it was buggy, the mosquitos were unrelenting, the same swarm following us all day picking up fellow fighters along the way. The continued even as the rains started and assaulted us again before the rain really stopped.
Wild flowers carpeted the trailside creating a tunnel in many places as our lower elevation walk traced the south shore of St. Mary’s lake and started up the Red Eagle valley. We walked through an area where a stand replacing fire burned several years ago, probably in 2003. Arnica and Nettleleaf Horsemint led the way to a lush regrowth of the understory. Fields of Yellow contrasted sharply with the blackened tree skeltons still standing.
Downed trees along trail around Red Eagle Lake slowed our pace, but we made it to our campsite with enough time for a before dinner tea hour and a leisurely meal.
Shortly after going to bed, in fact as I was starting to write about the day’s events, we heard some loud splashing in the water and some grunting noises. Whatever it was, was BIG, LOUD and didn’t care about it. Either a Moose, Human or Bear. The grunting ruled out human, at least those evolved enought to have some language skills. As were pondering “moose vs bear”, and fondling the trigger on the bear spray, the beast jumped into the water in a splash heard round the lake, then grunted again and made a low growling sound. All this was happening only about 50 yards away. I was convinced we had a boisterous grizzley bear, or perhaps a saber toothed moose, but could not convince The Carrot to go outside and look. We talked to each other, loud enough to let the beast know we were there, lest it take an exit path through our campsite. At this point I really had to go outside and relieve my bladder but decided to wait. It’s amazing how much security the thin fabric walls of a tent provide, really. At least it seems much safer inside. Returning to journal writing to pass time, I waited until the coast was well clear, before having a good look around and an opportunity to better mark my territory as a guard against the beast’s return. Eventually we drifted off into a slumber made sound only by the tired sore muscles and of a bear spray canister for a pillow.
Approx miles 15.2
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