James E. Ratzloff's Blog
Posted by James E. Ratzloff
In the months of short days and long nights leading to the winter solstice, I stay closer to home, and don't venture out to backpack like I did all spring and summer with my dogs.
This time of year I assess what kind of year I had, and take pleasure in recalling all the places we went and the adventures I shared with those dogs. I find that stories come easy from my wilderness trips.
I havent told anyone about the time we had last June, when we started out at 10,000 feet a half hour before dark. It was a night of the full moon, and I figured I might just keep going after dark. Around 9:30 the sky started to lighten as the moon came up and I rarely needed my headlamp unless we got into thick trees with long shadows.
As if that wasnt enough adventure, when I came to the top of a ridge, I realized I could avoid the hike into and out of a valley if I just followed this ridgeline to the southwest, which was about the same altitude of a large beaver pond meadow where I planned to camp. Without much thought than that I started off trail along the ridge.
It went ok for a while, then my ridge disappeared and I was faced with climbing up and down a jumble of spruce covered hills. I didn't feel like turning around, but kept going, hoping my plan would still work out. I knew about how much above some rapids my meadow destination was, and I tried to keep the sound of those rapids at a distance that I figured was right.
The trip took longer than I expected. Ben and Maggie were confused, but they faithfully followed behind me, trusting that I knew where I was going. As time went on and we walked through more unfamiliar hills and woods, it was darn sure I didn't have the same trust in myself. I wondered how I could do something so stupid. I thought about finding a pond or a small stream for water, and camping at any level spot, and figure this out in the morning.
Then in a matter of five minutes we came down a hill into the meadow with the lazy stream meandering through the beaver pond. I dropped my pack on the edge of the trees, and walked out to the waters edge. The moon was well up into the sky by now, and I could see that we had come out no more than a couple of hundred yards from where I expected to be, after hiking in the dark, off trail for two hours,through an area I had never been in before.
It might have been luck, or good judgement, in keeping myself positioned right in relation to the sound of the rapids. I know enough though about the risks of hiking alone to not get all inflated with the idea that it was my inner Daniel Boone that kicked in, and so of course it came out right. I was lucky, or watched over, and I hope to hell I have sense enough never to try anything like that again.
It feels very good to have had such a year, backpacking in wilderness areas all over Colorado and Montana and Wyoming. I don't take my good health for granted, and will work hard to keep up my strength all winter, so I can start again next Spring right where I left off this fall.
You won't find me sitting home alone on these dark nights though, especially on weekends. I will be out dancing, holding pretty ladies, feeling their breath in their firm backs, and watching them smile so beautifull as we dance to live music in the Western honky tonks. It is a wild, exciting, passionate life, and I love it, almost as much as I do the wilderness. I expect a story or two will probably come from these solstice nights of celebration as well.
Posted by James E. Ratzloff
One thing you learn from wilderness is to be calm, and have a quiet mind. What I mean is there is so much beauty up there, you learn to pay attention, and just take it all in. There is plenty of peace up there. I think it comes from the touch of the Creator on the forests, mountains, and streams. Up there I feel closer to Divinity than I ever have in a church.
I am headed up again on Sunday. I have gone over many possible destinations, but the one I am tending towards is a 11 mile hike up a long valley, from 8,000 feet up to 12,000 feet. It is such an incredible place. I went up there last year in June, and in four days did not see one person in that high valley - just deer, coyote, moose, and elk. I likely will camp in the trees just below treeline, and go up hiking across the alpine plateaus when the weather is good. They already have snow on them.
I am looking forward to it, and expect to have a great time - just me and my dogs, on the trail alone. Every time I go up there I can't help but say a prayer of thanks for these dogs, who are such good companions, and who love the wilderness every bit as much as I do. I also offer a thanks for the health and strength to hike up there, and pray that it continues for many more years. I am realistic about it though. There surely will be a time when I won't be able to carry a heavy pack up to timberline. And knowing that I enjoy it all the more, while I still can.
Posted by James E. Ratzloff
I kept going further than I had planned, because of the existence of three hunting camps in the lower part of the valley. I normally have this valley all to myself, and I didn't think it would be safe to have my dogs around the hunting camps. (Musket season opened in Colorado last Saturday, Sept 9th).
When I finally stopped to set up camp further up the valley it was well after dark and still raining. I was exhausted and hungry - likely at the beginning stages of hypothermia.
I quickly set up my tent as close as I could get to a tall spruce, hoping it would offer some shelter against the pounding rain. I threw my backpack and gear inside, and covered my sleeping bag with a waterproof lining, so my sopping dogs would not get it wet.
Before bedtime I went down to the stream for water. I was thinking I needed to be careful and try to turn around and examine some landmarks that would show me the way back to camp. There wasn't much, except lots of spruce and lodgepole illuminated by my headlamp.
I started back, and missed the tent. I couldn't believe it - exactly what I didn't want to happen. I wasn't sure which way to go to look for it.
My male border collie appeared in the light in front of me and I told him to go find the tent. A couple of minutes later I saw red eyeshine in the forest, and I followed it. It was Ben, and he was standing right next to the tent.
When I unzipped it, him and Maggie jumped inside, and I followed.
I slept a long, restful night, as did Ben and Maggie. Snowlevel came down to timberline, not far above my campsite. Check out my photos from the trip. It was a good night to be in a warm sleeping bag.
-Jim Ratzloff
Posted by James E. Ratzloff
Its been a good summer. Me and the dogs have gotten out a lot. It seems forever since I was hiking to the high country as soon as the snow melted in June, and at times going over or around snow piles. Now in September, we are probably a few weeks away of next winter's first snow.
One of my best trips was down in the San Juans in mid July. We hit it right when the wildflowers were in peak bloom.
I am planning a trip for this Friday evening. We will head up in the afternoon, after a nature program, and stay up for a couple of days. I was thinking today how great it is to go up there with my two dogs. I think the freedom is intensified when you are not leaving anyone home, when noone is waiting for you. The two who love me more than anybody else are heading up with me, in front of me. (my dogs). I can't wait. I think I will start gathering my gear and begin packing tonight.
Posted by James E. Ratzloff
I love this time of year - I go up to Montana and Wyoming, and wander around in my pickup with my two border collies. I will mix day hikes with some backpack trips. I plan to go up some trails that are considered dangerous because of the grizzly activity.
Its a pretty good life - makes me feel alive. I make sure I am near town on weekends, so I can dance with the ladies at the Cowboy Bar in Jackson and Cassie's in Cody. That also makes me feel alive.
Yeehah.
Protecting my food from large nightime visitors is on my mind this time of year, just before my annual trip to Wyoming and Montana.
Along these lines, please check out my new article on keeping your food safe from bears in the backcountry.
