Taming the Savage Rodent, Or Not

Not to beat a dead horse, but I guess I'm gonna!  I've returned with my promised post about the animals I encountered on the ol' hike up the big Colorado hill of two weeks ago.  Just HOW many entries does that make about the monumental trip to Long's Peak?

I'm rather prone to friend-making of both the human and animal kind.  (Let's not split hairs on the science of humans belonging to the animal kingdom . . . or the fact that there are those humans who more resemble the beasts of the field than mannered socially-contributing folks.  That's another story.)  And ever since my camera -- or whatever lovely borrowed DSLR I might be toting around and hate to one day part with -- became an extension of myself, it seems that my new friend count began to up.

Though we never laid eyes on predators of any kind, the four-legged variety, there were hawks and carrion-eaters, I know with absolute surety that they lurked behind or beneath a boulder somewhere not far off.   They simply had to because the sheer numbers of instant dinners in the form of mini-mammals galore was staggering!  Never have I seen so-o many low-to-the-ground scurrying critters, and such nifty varieties, in the space of one wilderness sojourn.

Of course, the forest harbored squirrels aplenty.  Though they remained silent during the dark of a pre-dawn morning as we trudged along at the beginning of our journey, said squirrels scolded us at every knee-jarring turn in the path upon our return through their wooded neighborhood.  I tried to squeeze off a few shots of them but the results were not satisfying nor worthy of a picture post here.  

Now, the smooth balls of fluff which seemed to permeate the ground all around us during the tundra portion of our hike, the pica, or pika as many people choose to spell it, were a favorite of mine.  Little charmers of unending cuteness.  (There's even an 13,000 foot peak in the White River National Forest of Colorado called Pica Peak.)   And I DID try to take a portrait of several specimens along the way but they're too darned quick!  If there'd been energy and time to set up a mini-tripod and hang around for a bit, I know I would have reaped a satisfying reward.  However, I did scour the Internet and found a few borrowed images to share.  Interesting to note, the pica is NOT a rodent but is an actual cousin to rabbits.  Of which we saw several as they hopped into our path before realizing their folly and swiftly hightailing it outta there.  (There was this line of banter concerning Jody, the young woman and girlfriend to Shep, as a 'rabbit choker.'  I never really got it until over lunch the day after our adventures, when it was explained to me for historical reasons I won't get into here, that Shep is from Wyoming and Jody hails from South Dakota, and the citizens of Wyoming, feeling superior to their neighbors, referred to natives of South Dakota as 'rabbit chokers' in a derogatory sense.  Obviously, Shep and Jody had parlayed it into an ongoing relationship joke.) 

 "Peekaboo!"

Those ears.  That fur.  The wee paws.

Upon reaching the Boulder Field, we ran into our next wildlife friend.  Or, rather, he ambled into us!  One bold plump marmot, obviously an opportunistic feeder hanging out at the base camp at the foot of the keyhole entrance to the other side of Long's Peak, ingratiated himself with our party.  And as you'll see here, the waddling rascal was wholly unafraid of us homo sapiens.

I spot him and think, "Oh, come our way, little critter!"

As if attuned to my brain waves, he began to head in our general direction.

Maybe we were between him -- an instant assumption of his sex on my part -- and his family?  Or his den?  My knowledge of marmots was limited, I'll admit.

At this point, I'm excited and speaking aloud to the marmot while aiming my camera.
"Come on, come over here, come see us!"

 He perked right up, as if he'd been awaiting my verbal cue.

 About that time, we ALL realized he was making an intentional beeline in our direction.  My sister felt this development was less than desirable. 

However, both me and the marmot were pretty pleased with the way things were going.

 I think right about here is when he realizes that the nut-and-fruit bar in Rob's possession could very well soon be in HIS belly . . . 

You can see the purpose in his beady little eyes . . . 

And against Rebekah's wishes, and to my great pleasure, Rob fed the varmint.

For his second act, the marmot headed straight over to me, my camera and my Clif bar.  I fed him, clicking away the entire time, until the moment he swiped the nibble AND bit my finger in the process.  He drew no blood but it hurt.  This bothered me very little because I GOT THE PICTURE!!!

 He's rather a handsome fellow, methinks.  I wonder whether or not the white fur around his muzzle and face denotes his age as it does with dogs and cats.  (At this point, he is still sitting at my feet.  Not yards away, captured with a zoom lens.  That's my shadow falling over him.  Pretty darned cool.)

Further reading and research admonishes hikers and climbers from feeding the hungry furred friends of forest and tundra.  There's a particular flea carrying the bubonic plague that's making its way through certain rodent populations.  The marmot, a relative to the squirrel, also known as a woodchuck or groundhog, is a rodent.  Of this disease-vector fact I was blissfully unaware just two weeks ago.  Ahhh, sweet ignorance, eh?

Chipmunks ran amok at the stop near the clear sunken lake near which we rested on our way up.  On our way down, I had need of the open-air outhouse -- pack your used wiping products out, thanks so much -- so we plunked down at this same spot for a brief respite before entering the forest during our final endless leg of our 13 1/2 hour sojourn.  We met a family of campers who had spent their day fishing and were headed back with their catch and their poles tossed over their shoulders.  They appeared considerably fresher than anyone in our group.  And then there was that one singular chipmunk, so earnest, so curious, so bold and begging, who yearned to share my sister's bag of nuts, dried fruit and chocolate.  My sister, while willing to leave a sample for said chipmunk, was not of a mood to entice it from her hand.  I'm sure visions of the biting marmot were yet fresh in her mind.  Smart girl!  

 Here comes Alvin.  Not sure where Simon and Theodore are!

Blurry but evident.  I especially dig the rock!  Too big for my pack and my back.

Oops!  Guess he was a bit spooked.  He'll be back!

 This is how I know . . . 

A-huh!  See there.  I told you so.

Why is his face so dirty?

 One nut down, one to go.

He wasted NO time.  And both of those almonds ended up crammed into his cheeks!

Aside from the rodents and their ilk, birds ranked as the the second highest viewed member of the animal kingdom.  I've snapped many a hawk and sparrow and cardinal.  But I can't recall ever having seen a          , much less pointed a camera in it's direction and recorded its handsomeness for posterity . . . and my blog.

 Several ptarmigan snacked alongside the tundra trail on the way up.
Our presence caused them little to no distress.

 They ate and ate with little regard for the intense observation of their habits.

 Incredible how their plumage really does blend in with the environment.

 I'd love to return and see them in full winter-white splendor.

A final shot as I try to catch up with the human pack up ahead!

When you put it all together, the scenery, the challenge, the mountain itself, the company, the wildlife, this trip, this entire episode in my life, ranks right up there on the ol' bucket list.  One of those items you check off even though you didn't actually realize it had even made it onto your life list.  I'm quite satisfied with all of it.  Every element.  Even my burning shoulder can't detract from the accomplishment.  In fact, I'm hankering for a good fourteener hike on a monthly basis now.  It's in my blood.  

Until another summit opportunity presents itself, I'll soldier on with other blog topics.  But first, a few random shots that don't really fit into a specific category regarding this hike but still deserving of honorable mention.

Either a fish or a fisherman trailed blood for a good eighth of a mile.  I thought this splotch resembled an umbrella.

 Is it rock or is it wood?

Though not a cat person, Rob was smitten with Mooney.

I love how they both track the approaching dog here. 

Here comes the comfort and commiseration.

Spreading the love was ALL this young man did on this corner all afternoon!

 I'm forever grateful that THIS is not the backpack I toted up the big hill.

 A young man sporting an interesting gauge who agreed to allow me to take his picture.My sister APOLOGIZED for my behavior!  When did THAT happen?

 Jody registers pretty high on the cute scale, so she deserved another picture.

 This dreadlocked maiden served my sister an iced beverage at a quaint downtown Fort Collins coffee shop.  Again, I asked to snap a shot.  She agreed.  Quite amiably.

 Shep ducked into the neighboring pub rather than wander down the road with us.

 Oh!  And I did find one still squirrel -- albeit on my walk in Fort Collins.

The local wildlife ala Fort Collins.

Fourteener

In less than 24 hours, my knees and I will be ascending Long's Peak with my little sister, her fiance, his Marine buddy and Marine buddy's girlfriend.  Yes, that's 3AM in Colorado.  Evidently, one must arrive at the peak before the afternoon in order to make it down in time.  The time I'm recalling in the informational recap rolling around inside my head encompasses a "cool, scary and monumental" adventure of roughly 16 hours.  I told my sister I'll focus on the cool and monumental part . . . but I'll be prepared for scary.  I think.

Now, my involvement in said outdoor trek came about two night ago when my sister called to say she had found an affordable airline ticket and wondered if I might want to join her little high altitude party on Saturday.  For me, who likes to plan and has plans stacked up into next year on her TO DO list of hobbies, chores and volunteering, THAT is pretty last minute.  But when how often does such an opportunity come round?  Especially pre-paid?!  A quick conference with the hubby left me with clearance for takeoff! (Though he made it abundantly clear just how much he detests caring for the animals . . . I think Hank is who he actually means . . . and Hank does require more attention than any pet we've previously owned, I must say.)

So, you'd think that boulder fields, and steep rocky paths, and a little thing that one climber called "the narrows" in the photo expose of HIS climb ( click here for pics: some other guy's adventure ) would rank as my main concern this morning.  Bu-u-u-t, NO.  In no specific order, perhaps even sharing pole position, my biggest challenges of the moment are packing and heartburn.

The heartburn comes courtesy of an all-day bake-and-cook fest for my only son's 17th birthday dinner party.  Lack of sleep, excitement and nervousness about the impromptu trip and hormones had me eating sugar from sun-up to sundown with a protein in between.  Not much in the way of fruits or veggies or whole grain. I did add flax seed to my cake and milk for lunch -- I believe flax can go anywhere -- and the addition of home-fried bacon bits in my Kentucky Delight ice cream proved to be a phenomenal combo!  I kid you not.  Would THIS face lie?

Or THIS face?

I did not, nor will I ever, prevaricate to garner sympathy and attention from my readers.

 No deception here.

 Surely THIS morning-hair is incapable of spreading untruth?

I paid the extra $20 to have the privilege -- because that's what the airlines make it seem like now -- of having a piece of luggage come along with me to Colorado.  And my borrowed internal-skeleton backpack from my daughter's boyfriend will be the most important item in that bag.  Followed by clothes for layering to meet any foreseeable weather conditions, including 45 degree temps as we draw near the summit, rain, sun, etc.  My living will (though it wasn't on the list).  Camera and lenses.  Carbo-rich food for energy.  Water.  Dry socks.  My iPhone.  Toilet paper and plastic bags for packing out.  A Swiss knife or comparable.  Maybe a small notebook and pen. Mini self-activating ice packs for my knees, which will be ensconced in flexible cloth braces.  And whatever else I'm instructed to include. This is my first true hike-climb of a "fourteener!"  I expect it to whup my hiney and plant itself firmly in my memory banks.  Wheee!

Below I've pasted a more-than-decent explanation of the whole fourteener thing.  I've always heard about them but never really expected to be a part of the movement.  This may be addicting and become a bucket list item.  As you scroll down, you'll see where the effects of altitude sickness are listed.  Yeah-h-h . . . I'm going in hydrated and staying that way.  As for the admonition at the very bottom of the write-up, no one has to tell me twice to avoid loose rock debris covering a slope!

So as I leave you dear readers to your day and go about the business of raiding my closet and dresser, please . . . say a little prayer for me and my climbing partners as we head out to tackle one of the less-than-easy mountains on the fourteener list.  Thanks.

FOURTEENERS

***Colorado has 54 mountain peaks exceeding 14,000 feet (known as "fourteeners" or "14ers" by locally) — the most of any state. Outdoor enthusiasts of all skill levels will find peaks ranging from easy to very difficult, with hiking trails for exploring the state's scenery, wildlife and rugged beauty.

Some of the Colorado's best-known fourteeners include the tallest, Mount Elbert (14,433 feet); Pikes Peak (14,110), which inspired the poem "America the Beautiful"; and Longs Peak (14,255), which resides inside Rocky Mountain National Park.

The reward for reaching the summit of one of these giants? Some of the most breathtaking views you'll find anywhere on the planet. But it's important to know a few things before you head out to these massive Colorado fourteeners.

BE AWARE OF THE EFFECTS OF ALTITUDE

While climbing up a fourteener can lead you to breathtaking views, the thinner air can lead to altitude sickness. Altitude sickness is brought on by a lack of oxygen to your body and a failure to acclimate to air that has less oxygen. It can be caused by going too high, too fast.

The problem is, everyone's body has a different rate of acclimating, so it's important to be aware of any changes you feel. The most widely felt symptom is a headache, but other symptoms include shortness of breath, tightness in the chest, marked fatigue and weakness. If you experience any of these, just follow the simple guidelines below and let others know you're not feeling 100 percent. Symptoms often improve once your body adapts to the higher elevation, but you need to be patient — and most importantly, keep hydrated and take it easy.

• Drink plenty of water; replenishing fluids helps to stabilize your body.

• Take it easy; don’t over-exert yourself.

• Experts recommend eating a high carbohydrate diet while at altitude.

• Keep alcohol intake and smoking to a minimum.

• Remember that altitude sickness can affect anybody, even top-flight athletes.

• Most importantly: if you're not feeling well, let someone know.

LEAVE NO TRACE

Colorado has the great fortune of having these 54 majestic fourteeners right in our backyard. But every year, an increasing number of hikers and climbers attempt to ascend one of these peaks, impacting the alpine environment. It is up to those who love these mountains to minimize damage to their fragile ecosystems. The Leave No Trace (LNT) program is dedicated to building awareness, appreciation, and most of all, respect for our public recreation places. It is not based on rules and regulations as much as attitude and awareness.

Please be sure to follow the Leave No Trace principles so that future generations can continue to enjoy Colorado's breathtaking mountains:

• Rest on rock, not on vegetation.

• Leave what you find, including flowers and berries.

• Pack out all food; don't throw it on the ground.

• Conduct bathroom stops at least 200 feet from bodies of water.

• Pack out toilet paper in plastic bags.

• Stay on designated trails and don't cut across switchbacks.

• Walk through puddles on the trail, not around them, to avoid creating wider or multiple trails.

• Spread out when walking in areas where there is no trail.

• Avoid loose rock debris covering a slope; use the most stable route.

For more information on the fourteeners in Colorado, including a complete list, visit the Colorado Fourteeners Initiative.