The Trow Wolf Track

Deer Carcass on Moundbounder

Photography isn't always pretty.  Nature isn't either...some would say.  But it's the way of things and it's the reality of how life works.  One of the things I love about snow, and grooming snow, is in the early morning hours, when the sun brightens the woods, the stories of the dark hours begins to emerge.  It's the same when I see tracks, and I wonder what happened before I stumbled across them and what happened after.  On this morning, some of the story was left on the ski trail.

Within the first mile of grooming, I quickly cut a lone wolf track, which seemed content to just follow the powdered surface of the trail heading west.  The meandering tracks were easy to see-sunk deeply into the base getting wiped out by the ski trail groomer passing over them.  I stopped a few times just to get a closer look.  They soon veered off on an ungroomed trail, so I decided this day was the one to catch up and get it in skiing condition...besides, the tracks pulled me that way.  A short trip and we merged onto the Moundbounder trail, the name implies a lot of hills and it does deliver.  At the top of the first climb, the lone track melted into a mass of packed snow-canine tracks everywhere, like a wolf party zone.  It stopped me in my...err, tracks.  I couldn't believe, or understand why everything was tore up. I could see more tracks cascading off the ridge line above me onto this spot.  Further below, something lay in the trail.  The deer skull and spine, with snapped off ribs, had been dragged, pulled and wrestled with from the top of the ridge to the spot where it rested.  That much of the story was now clear.  I may have even disrupted the tug of war or the feeding frenzy that had taken place.

Drag lines and Rib Patterns

In hind sight, I was probably right.  After completing my first pass, I discovered fresh wolf prints in the newly groomed snow.  They were still here, closeby.  I had moved the carcass off the trail and on my return trip, ravens and a immature bald eagle stood watch in the trees above- a sure sign they were aware the deer's body had been there and the wolfs feeding earlier had not gone unnoticed.

There were several places along the trail where earlier in the day or previous night, the wolves had taken advantage of the packed snow to wrestle, play or frolic, (if wolves do that) evidenced by the hundreds of tracks, "skid" marks and body slams in the snow.  I wondered what this must look like live.  The three (it appeared to be three wolves together at several tracking points) didn't appear to be fighting over scraps of food at those places-there was no blood or bone there, just a free for all as they loped along here and there.  I'd seen this behavior last winter while grooming in fresh snow, seeing the imprint of their bodies and heads in the snow.  They also appear to love snow "baths"-something our golden retriever would do, rolling around in the snow back and forth.

Tracks of Wolf and Sue J.

Fellow skier and trail worker Sue had been skiing the evening before and said she felt like wolves were stalking her.  She cut tracks several times during her ski, and as observed, some of her ski tracks lie on theirs, some the other way around.  I don't think it was stalking in any way, she was just skiing in their house.  On one pass, I stopped again and clammored up the sidehill where they had slid down and quickly found three beds directly on the Hermosa singletrack.  They'd slept here and at some point returned to the carcass below, which Sue had dragged off trail.  Apparently, they preferred it back where it'd been.

Tracks on Corduroy-Second Pass

The hours on the fourwheeler continued on and at several places, where I finished up my second pass, I'd cut new tracks...they were still here, and I'd strain to catch a glimpse of their shadows back in the trees and brush somewhere.  A similar scenario played out last year while grooming-two sets of tracks, then one and finally they went off trail.  I stopped and followed the line up hill, below the Sidewinder trail, and "he" stood there-unmistakable large dark shape, peering down at me.  My first wolf sighting.  The moment passed quickly and he bounded up to the ridgeline and was gone.  Unlike some, I feel wolves have a place in our natural environment, so for me, it was thrill.  Should there be a balance?  sure there does...I am a hunter, but I'll share with a creature who has lived here far longer than I, and maybe belongs here more than I.  At the moment I saw him, and when I see their evidence and know they are here, I feel a bit more alive, that I am a part of something bigger than myself and that's worth witnessing as often as possible.

Group Rides

The Wazoo Fat-Bike Boys

 I probably ride alone 90% of the time.  Not sure why that is....maybe a selfishness on my part to just decide it's go time, pull on the bike shorts, grab the helmet and click into my pedals.  Maybe it's part just getting out into the quiet of the forest after a full day of loud energetic students in the classroom.  It could be that riding alone also insures me of pedaling at my pace, with no fear of getting dropped or bowing out of part of a ride.  There is also a chance to "stop and smell the roses" or the ferns or snap a pic of a wolf or Fisher track-something I'm less inclined to do while group riding.  Sometimes I just want to be lazy-maybe not the correct word, but as the racing days are behind me, I don't feel the need (or pressure) to hammer out intervals, or hill repeats, or ungodly LSDs (long slow distance).  Not that I can't or don't do them sometimes, but I don't have to.  There is some freedom and relaxation in that and as I've gotten older, I think that becomes more important.

That said....the group ride can be the ticket some days.  They are especially great when you have new riders visiting "your" trail for the first time. December 26th was that chance.  I'm not supposed to be riding bikes the day after Christmas-it's not right....there should be two skinny skis under my feet-not platform pedals.  Two things have changed however-a new fat-bike in my stable of bikes and 43 degrees with sun.  My intent was to ride the Levis Mound Trail again this day and finish shooting some stills and video of the Toad Road and Northface trails.  As I pulled in, the bike rack laden vehicles and riders making last second adjustments to their fat-bikes, changed that plan. 

Some of the riders checking air pressure and donning warm riding clothes I've met once or twice along the way biking here during summer months.  With the surge in fat-bike riding, (and warmer temps) I'm sure bike racks at Levis Mound in winter months will become more common.  They invited me along saying they were "old slow guys" which, you know, because they said it -was not going to be true.  I saw it as a chance to "film" riders on our trails-a nice and different perspective from my usual solo ride views.  When leading a group-you do feel as though you need to keep the speed up-not so much a macho thing as it is just to keep a steady pace-these guys drove a long way to ride here this day.  I'm not a climber, never have been, so the quads were quivering when we reached the top of the mound.  Luckily (for me) others in our group needed to find their lungs as well.  We did the obligatory tour of the top of the mound and then I dove in behind Gary, who was riding a pugsley-I wanted to get a riders perspective of fat tires descending Toad Road, one or most technical trails and home of "Plummers Crack."  Shooting video going through the rock chute would be a hoot and good test of the bikes, as would the remainder of the screaming downhill.  As trees blurred by me, I realized group riding-especially trying to stay on someone's wheel, takes the speed up one, two or three notches.....which, thinking about it later felt really good.

We re-grouped at the bottom with only one reported "forced dismount" story.  Some slight air pressure adjustments were made and we set off north west to Trow Mound to catch the new "Wolf Run" trail and then Sidewinder and more shooting.  By the time we had made several more ascents, my legs were toast.  Hated to admit that, but they burned in a good way and the end result is I knew I'd pushed myself a little this day-something I don't do so much when solo.  Pushed the climbs, pushed the descents, took some risks...and that's not all a bad thing. 

The fat-bike friends had one more climb in their legs (in order to fly down Cliffhanger), so I led them to their next climb and wished them well.  This had been a fun couple hours-unplanned, and it always seems those are the best rides of all.  I had a great time showing off the trails and for the first time, riding in a group of fat-bikes (there were a pair of skinny bikes along as well-man those tires look so small now!) and being in a group dynamic.  I'll still most likely keep up my quiet rides, but on this day, it was great to hear the whirl of freehubs, clicking shifters, a squeal of disks and rumble of many pairs of fat tires on frozen ground.