Day 5:
Blue skies greet us in the morning for the first time. Mark and I hatch a plan to hike into the high basins in hopes of intercepting yesterday’s moose in the alpine. We hike, bushwhack, and generally struggle to gain, lose, and gain elevation again.
Our plan to find the bull’s tracks works all too well: we find his day-old sign. Evidence that he has already moved through the high basin. His tracks appear to go further up, so we make the decision that so shall we.
Hiking past moose country, we find ourselves in alpine heaven. Views of the rocky summits in our face, and snow beneath our feet, with bump herds of sheep in the high meadows and scree fields. I (temporarily!) take my mind off moose as I dream of finding a ram in the high country.
Mark changes focus from hunter to rock hound as he spots an elusive natural arch in the cliffs above. He unsuccessfully tries to sway my focus from animal to mineral, although I have to admit that a few of the rocks were pretty cool. On the way back to camp, we find the bull’s tracks again as he heads down toward our camp in the main valley. Could this be a good sign for tomorrow?
As darkness envelops camp that evening, I am out calling in the meadow below. I imagine moose moving like ghosts through the fading light and catch myself dreaming of the thrill of seeing one in the flesh.