Walkin' Through a Winter Wonderland...

The morning broke cold but almost clear. Overnight we got maybe a half-inch of new snow, but the cloud cover had broken and when the sun cleared the hills it shined on a dazzling white carpet instead of the gray and forbidding phlump of the last couple of days. The coyotes found it encouraging, at least: Before full sun the boys got into a hell of a shouting match with a pack somewhere near the big loop in the wash, just beyond the meadow. I couldn't see any of them (I never do) but they sure sounded close.

We were out and about earlier than usual, walking down the wash toward the big loop. I stuck to the more level footing inside the wash itself, with nice hard frozen ground instead of the usual fatigue-inducing soft sand. The boys spent most of their time up on the bank where the scents are more compelling and there's always a chance of flushing something good to eat, or at least fun to chase.

At one point Fritz broke from the brush on the bank farthest from me and began charging toward me in his favorite game, Whack-a-Joel. When he saw me turn and brace for impact his gallop became a real rush; he doesn't have that much speed, but with all his bulk he can build up a great head of kinetic energy before impact. And the thing it's vitally important to remember is, he's not going to veer off. He really intends to impact. You can't hurt him by hitting him in the head, but you can knock me on my ass quite smartly by hitting me in the knees. He is aware of this.

I sidestepped and grabbed him around the neck and we went down together in a good wrestle, then he accompanied me closely till it was time to turn at the fence line. Magnus had disappeared up the far bank, following some scent. Ghost was in sight, but having his own party further along. I called Magnus, and after several seconds heard him crashing and panting down the slope. When I called Ghost he looked at me and then trotted along the line he'd already taken. "Yeah, I heard you. Go do whatever you're doing; I'm not done yet."

Somewhere in the flats to the west of our ridge is a pile of stones in the shadow of some tall junipers. It has become a game of mine to try and locate this pile of stones. It marks the first proposed location of Joel's Secret Lair, Final Edition. For various reasons this location got vetoed, and now I'm almost glad: Damned if I can ever locate that pile and those trees. The flat is not a very big place, but everything looks the same throughout it. I'd hate to go to all the trouble of building a cabin, then never be able to find it again. And of course all this snow doesn't help.

I never did find it this morning; sometimes I can and sometimes I can't. But the boys had a fine time helping me quarter back and forth, not knowing what the hell I was doing but pretty obviously not really caring. At some point Ghost joined us, as usual from a completely unforeseen direction. He seems to get a kick out of doing that, for his own reasons.

So what began as a short, quick walk turned into a sufficiently tiring hike, even though we didn't cover much ground. For an hour or so the boys were content to snooze, and now they're filtering out of the lair and back into the snow. We'll have to come up with some other games before too long, I know the signs. And anyway, it's turned into a beautiful day.