Next Morning............
During the early morning hours we were awakened to the sound of thunder echoing down the valley like a series of fireworks set off. Lightening lit up the cabin like daytime and the rain on the roof lulled us back to sleep until 6 a.m. Our bunks were so comfy it was hard to see who was going to get up first to stoke up the Englander. After a half hour or so awake, DH gave in and added kindling to the embers which took off in a flurry of sparks and before long it was warm and I had no trouble coming to life.
The trek to the little house on the hill was invigorating with rain dripping off the pine branches. The air was so fresh, I couldn't help taking deep breathes in an effort to saver every ounce wishing it would last the whole week ahead. The birds were waiting to be fed and the tiny chipmunks were fluttering around from under the rocks beside the deck. It was so good to be alive, there's no place like home.
DH already had the fire started in the cook stove and was waiting patiently for me to start breakfast. The 12" iron skillet was just the right size for the Brookies caught the evening before. After breakfast we decided to take a ride on the ATV to Secret Creek, our name for a small stream that couldn't be seen from any road or trail. It was overgrown with tall six foot bushes but had many small pools where Brookies as big as 8" lurked. It wasn't long before DH hooked a couple nice fish. I 'walked' ahead, alert to the possibility of any Moose that might be lurking in the area. Lady luck must have been elsewhere this trip as no more fish were taken. As we returned to the ATV our steps where ever so careful as Beaver runs were everywhere and we encountered a bog and had to back-track several times before reaching our destination.
We must have ridden 40 miles just taking in the fresh air while wondering on logging roads and trails too narrow for anything but an ATV. Often surprising Deer quietly grazing in little meadows, not the least frightened by our intruding. It was nearing noon. We stopped in a clearing, found a fallen Aspen where we sat and had our lunch which we always took along when we went for our spontaneous rides. The warm sun warmed our bodies and hearts in this quiet place where we often never spoke a word, just listened to the silence.
A Camp Robber (Steller's Jay) came within a few feet of where we were sitting. We tossed it an apple core which it quickly pecked away on until another spooked it off and before we knew it, we were surrounded by Jays. They mysteriously found us and made no sound when they flew in. We allowed our puppy to stretch her legs after riding for hours in my backpack. As we were ready to leave she spotted something nearby and proceeded to check it out. It was a mole that was burrowing up through the earth pushing dirt up in a pile. It peered at us for a few moments and just as quickly proceeded to fill the hole with dirt and disappear. Such is the nature of the mountains.