camping

Wildlife and me

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

I had a lovely solo camping trip in Golden Gate Canyon State Park last week. The weather was pleasant and my site was level, plus there was a peaceful little Nature Trail right across the road that I wandered a couple times. Oddly enough, there weren’t many birds and it was mostly quiet except for the occasional Mountain Chickadee and Common Raven (which I heard several times but never spotted). I had high hopes for bird sightings since on the first afternoon I saw a White-breasted Nuthatch on a tree trunk near the restroom. That was my one and only nuthatch sighting although I had two encounters with a pair of Gray Jays. I’m not sure it was the same pair both times, but one flew directly at me near my campsite then landed in the tree right next to me, followed by another jay. And the next morning as I paused outside the restroom to put on my mask, a Gray Jay flew right (like, right) in front of me and into the building wall as if it thought it could perch there. Then it flew back into the closest tree where another jay waited. I never saw them again, but spent some time pondering whether they were trying to tell me something or maybe thought I was a kindred spirit in my gray fleece jacket that’s the same shade as their feathers.

On my first morning there, I suited up to run on the Raccoon Trail which is a 3.5 mile loop (including spur from campground) that includes Panorama Point and a view of the Continental Divide. Because I was starting at 9100 feet elevation and would gain several hundred feet more, I knew water was essential. And while I never run with my phone, I knew it would be wise to have it, so wore my small hiking pack that holds a camel back for water. After some stretches to warm up, I took off. The pack bouncing on my back didn’t bother me, but I was very aware of the water as it sloshed with every step. The trail starts out in forest and soon opens up to aspen groves. Five minutes into the run, I sloshed my way around a curve and was startled by a large crashing in the brush. A moose! Heart hammering, I immediately stopped and spoke quietly while glancing around for a calf. I only saw the one moose, but my heart still pounded at the sight of all those skinny aspen trees that weren’t big enough to hide behind if the moose decided to charge. Fortunately, we both calmed down and it soon went back to browsing. As it moved farther from the trail, I slowly and silently (no sloshing!) continued on my way. A few minutes later I came upon a hiker and as she stepped off the trail to let me pass, she asked if I’d seen the moose. I said I had.

“That calf was so cute,” she replied.

Calf?

Turned out, this woman had been about ten feet away from the juvenile moose and she’d taken photos. Yikes! Fortunately, all was well with the mama and everyone moved on without incident.

The rest of my run/scramble up rocky slopes was uneventful. I stopped to check out the view at the top and then kept going. It wasn’t until I was back at my camp site doing my cool-down stretches that I had my favorite wildlife encounter of the trip.

This ground squirrel calmly perched a few feet from me, drinking up the warm sun. Moments later, the squirrel was flat on their tummy in an obvious display of fearlessness.

I’ll confess that I took loads of photos of this squirrel and their many poses. It made my heart so happy to share the space together, that morning and throughout my stay. This squirrel was a very gracious host and I’m grateful both for the companionship and also for the fact my heart didn’t practically leap out of my chest at our encounters. Moose are amazing creatures but my time in Alaska taught me they can be very volatile and extremely dangerous. Unlike this little ground squirrel.

This squirrel was pure chill which was exactly what I needed on my trip.

Twofer Tuesday: American Robins

/ Tracy Abell

These are very hard days on the planet and  so I’d like to offer these photos I took while camping last week. American Robins are quite commonplace and have a distinctive, easy-to-identify profile. Here’s one of the many I spotted in the forest surrounding Trinidad Lake:

What I hadn’t previously experienced with robins was them flying like missiles through the forest. As I stood there with my camera and big lens mounted on the monopod while listening to the many birds hidden in the trees, robins flew past just inches from me, wings literally whistling. It was wild! And at one point, about thirty of them flew out from the trees, coming from all directions, to fly across the lake. I was too stunned to even try to photograph that flock. Here’s one that generously posed:

It was a lovely morning in those final hours before we packed up to start the drive home. Even though I’m far removed from that setting, looking at these photos brings me peace once again. I hope these lovely robins do the same for you.

Twofer Tuesday: ungulate edition

/ Tracy Abell / 5 Comments

On the evening of our first night at Lodgepole Campground in Pike National Forest last week, we walked on the surrounding trails and drank in the natural beauty (while slapping at pesky insects). There are many beaver ponds in the area and we were happy to see a young moose in one.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have my long lens so the images are weak but am posting these because I love moose and was so excited to see one. I was spoiled by daily moose sightings when we lived in Alaska. (Sometimes they’d come in the yard to eat the raspberry canes and the crunching sound was loud enough to be heard through the walls.)

As we stood admiring this youngster, Zippy quietly said, “Um, where is the mom?” And with that, we quickly walked away. Because all those Alaska moose sightings had also taught us the danger of getting between a calf and cow moose. (In fact, one day when I was skate-skiing on the Coastal Trail, pulling Wildebeest in the pulk that was attached to my waist, I saw a calf on one side of the trail and a cow on the other. I stopped and while somewhat frantically attempting to turn us around, tipped the pulk on its side. Fortunately, the pulk had a six-point harness that prevented my son from falling out and I was able to get the sled upright again so that we could head away from the protective mother moose. Whew!)

Our second ungulate sighting of the trip was on the day we left as we drove back out to the  highway. These pronghorn were standing at the fence, staring as we went by. (Zippy calmly remarked, “Hello, fellas.”) I stopped and slowly reversed to get a photo but by the time I got my camera up, they were moving away to safety.

I regret not getting a photo of their inquisitive faces, but there’s still a lot of personality in the way pronghorn walk away. A combination of nonchalance and hypervigilance. Either way, it was a lovely final image.

Twofer Tuesday: watercolor memories

/ Tracy Abell / 4 Comments

These are views from our campsite at Vega State Park last week. It’d rained all day and when it finally stopped, we emerged from Moby to do a little exploring in the calm, freshly-scrubbed air. The water’s surface was the perfect palette.

May 11, 2023

The peaceful quiet was only disturbed by the sound of Emma chomping on a crayfish claw shell she’d found and then refused to let me remove from her mouth. Naughty little dog.

 

Happy day recap

/ Tracy Abell / 11 Comments

My birthday camping trip last week was a grand success (especially in  light of today’s frigid temperatures and snow). The weather cooperated and while it was definitely chilly in the morning, the sun shone for much of the two days. Here’s the view out the van window on my birthday morning.

After it warmed up a bit and I’d had coffee and sunflower butter smeared on a rice cake, I decided to celebrate my day with a run. The lake’s water level was low and as long as I stayed away from the wetter muck near the water, my shoes wouldn’t collect the heavy mud. So I began my run in the lake bed, thinking I’d go about three miles. But while running across the sand, I remembered my 50th birthday and how I’d celebrated with a 50-minute run on a San Diego beach. I spontaneously decided to do the same, except this time the run would be 60 minutes.

Here’s part of my route (picture taken the day before):

That photo shows a deceptively flat surface, but it was a pretty technical run because of hardened footprints and bike-tire tracks in the mud, patches of weeds, and the inexplicable paver stones and concrete blocks scattered about. I had to pay attention to where I placed my feet.

 

 

Still, I enjoyed seeing gulls and Canada Geese as I ran.

I took this photo the next morning so maybe not the exact same geese I passed.

After 30 minutes on the dry lake bed, I ran on trails near the lake for another 30 minutes. That ground was also uneven. Plus, the trails were short and connected in various places so I found myself doubling back to circle around again. All this to say, my pace was not-fast and my various joints began to tire of the celebratory run. Near the end, I checked my watch about every two minutes, thinking “Please, let it be 60 minutes!” And finally, it was.  Hooray! I’d run a total of 5.83 miles which wasn’t even a 10-minute mile pace. BUT, I didn’t do a face plant. Victory!

Later, I took a nap in the van as the sun shone on me through the back windows. All in all, a very nice day. Well done, me.

Twofer Tuesday: Gray Jay edition

/ Tracy Abell

One of the friendliest bird species out there, here are two Gray Jays at our campsite in Mueller State Park. I know they have a reputation as “camp robbers,” but I enjoyed their presence and was glad whenever I had another sighting or heard them making their assortment of sounds off in a tree somewhere.

October 19, 2022

While running on the trails one morning, I nearly had to come to a full stop to avoid running over a jay in the middle of the trail. Not even my 9,000-feet-elevation huffing and puffing could scare it away.

A friendly and self-assured species, those Gray Jays.

A little magic for this Monday

/ Tracy Abell / 5 Comments

The morning we had to leave the Routt National Forest, we went down to the pond where the light was soft and golden.  I got up from the boulder to wander with my camera and heard a chip chip chip coming from the willows. Tiptoeing, I moved closer and closer still, scanning. Who was making that sound?

After about ten minutes of quiet stalking, a sudden movement caught my eye. A bird alighted in a pine tree. I quickly aimed the camera into the shadows and took a series of photos, not sure what I was seeing or whether I was even capturing an image. And then the bird disappeared again.

When we returned to our campervan, I downloaded the photos. Not great images, but hopefully enough detail to identify the bird. With Stan Tekiekla’s BIRDS OF COLORADO FIELD GUIDE on my lap, I studied the best image. Some kind of warbler?

Wilson’s Warbler.  July 14, 2022

I glanced down to consult the field guide which had fallen open on my lap. Right there in front of me was the Wilson’s Warbler page and the photograph looked exactly like my photo! Exactly the same, except my warbler’s tail is up and Mr. Tekiela’s image is much sharper.

I’m smiling as I remember that moment of recognition because it truly felt like magic. And I don’t know about you, but these days I’ll take all the magic I can get. As the sticky note on my bathroom mirror says, MAGIC WELCOME HERE.

Heron painting

/ Tracy Abell / 13 Comments

We went camping in the Routt National Forest for a couple days this past week and were gifted with a Great Blue Heron sighting. Another heron (that we never saw) was making a huge racket with its harsh call, sending this one into a nearby tree.

Unfortunately, we were far away and my heron photos didn’t turn out. But with the aid of a filter, the too-soft image has an atmospheric feel. It’s almost like a painting.

July 12, 2022

I tried drawing the heron in our Moby travel log, copying it from one of my photos, and was embarrassed by the attempt. Really embarrassed. That’s the bad news. The good news is I found a series of videos for beginners and am determined to up my sketching skill level. I began yesterday and Day 1’s lesson was “The Sphere” (complete with shadows and shading to make them 3-D) and today I drew  “Overlapping Spheres.” Five 3-D spheres in a row! Some of those spheres are a bit squashed-looking, but that’s okay. That oblong shape might come in handy if I ever attempt to draw a Great Blue sitting on an egg.

Twofer Tuesday: antelope edition

/ Tracy Abell / 5 Comments

Last week after leaving the Crow Valley Campground, we drove the 21-mile Birding Tour in the Pawnee National Grasslands. Alas, due to strong winds and dust, there weren’t a whole lot of birds out and about (aside from a huge number of Horned Larks which we’d never seen before plus some hawks on the ground that were too far away to identify).

However, we were gifted with antelope sightings. This small herd ran away from us as we sat idling on the road way far away from them. It seems antelope do not take any chances and will bolt at the first sign of danger.

April 21, 2022

And here they are after reaching a distance far enough away to feel safe. They stopped and wheeled around to watch us.

The scenery for that entire bumpy drive on the gravel roads was brown-brown-brown and we constantly scanned for movement. My (hopeful) eyes were often tricked into believing I saw running antelope, but it was almost always tumbling tumbleweeds blowing across the desolate landscape. Those tumbleweeds moved very quickly and I would’ve loved to see one blowing alongside the running antelope in order to compare speeds.

The antelope, though, brought me the most joy. No contest.

Sunday song

/ Tracy Abell / 5 Comments

We took our first camping trip of the year at the Pawnee National Grasslands. That area is supposed to provide a magnificent night sky and we went in hopes of seeing the meteor shower. Turns out we didn’t put much effort into the sky because the high winds made it unpleasant. So unpleasant, in fact, that we came home a day early.

The good news is, there was a lull in the wind on Thursday evening and we walked the trails around the Crow Valley Campground. The lighting was divine as birds serenaded us. Here’s a Red-winged Blackbird in song:

And here’s an American Robin singing as it perches on the fence next to a couple of the MANY tumbleweeds in the area  (which I either leapt over or plowed through when running on the trails the next morning):

Here’s a Western Meadowlark singing its heart out:

This last one–Turkey Vulture– was silent, but it was a thrill when Zippy spotted it because on our maiden voyage last April, a whole bunch of Turkey Vultures roosted above our campervan.

Others may disagree, but I consider a Turkey Vulture sighting a good omen for the coming camping season.