Day 3:
We wake up to fresh snow. Saddling and packing the horses, we make a morning push toward the Northwest.
Within 10 minutes of leaving camp, we spot an unexpected sight: a forkhorn mule deer running along the creek like the devil is giving chase. His mouth open and panting, he spots us and bounds out of the creek and through the shin tangle willows of the valley bottom. Moments later, a lone wolf materializes -the reason that the deer was running for its life.
Later on, we spot a set of hours-old moose tracks. Our first moose sign has us calling shortly after. Tons of moose country, but no moose willing to show themselves. We stop for lunch at the and enjoy conversation with a father and his three young sons out for a pack trip and hunting for sheep. We meet another sheep hunter, solo and on foot while pushing a fat bike. He tells us of big bull that he saw rutting hard 7 days ago just up the valley. We cover plenty of ground on horseback and are getting pretty good at finding where the moose aren’t.
