At dusk I had everything ready, had finished my chili and bread and beer dinner, and had set up my sleeping bag in the back of the truck. I hung my coleman lantern from the rack of the pickup, and was enjoying readying Ivan Doig's 'Mountain Time', when a truck came down the dirt road and pulled up along side mine. It was a man and his daughter, cruising the backroads looking for bears. I could tell he was pleased with the results when the told me a bear was in the meadow just up the road, not more than 200 yeards away. Ben, my fear-agressive border collie growled at him. The man obviously didn't know the rules - strangers do not look at us, and especially do not talk to us, according to Ben's set in stone logic. I told Ben to be quiet, and thanked the man for the information.
I had my and Ben and Maggie's packs on and was ready to head up the trail the next morning just as the first sunlight was yellow on the ridge top spruce. I wasnt concerned or fearful at heading into prime Grizzly habitat alone. What lay ahead was expectation and excitement at the adventure and beauty I would surely come across up this trail. I let out a 'yeehaw' once in a while, that might have travelled a half mile up the canyon, thereby reducing my chances of turning a corner to surprise an early morning Grizzly.
The air was still, and more than once I detected the musky smell of a large animal. It was similar to what I smelled when I came across an area where elk had recently been, only this was not elk smell. I watched my borders get excited by the scent.
Those dogs extend my range of senses, revealing to me things I surely would have missed. Just a couple weeks before I followed Ben's gaze to a heard of deer on the opposite side of a lake, that I never would have seen.
