The Adventure Continues

Sunday, August 15th

Today was my last “off” day before heading home.  Tomorrow I’ll dash to the nearby -- well, a little over an hour’s drive -- mountain town of Woodland Park.  I’ll throw in a load of clothes at the laundromat, pick up my husband’s chainsaw that’s been in for a tune-up, return some paint supplies we didn’t use since we didn’t do the staining ourselves, and visit the library to check emails, post to this blog, and find a couple of DVD’s to borrow for bear visitor distraction in the dark hours.  I’ll also stop by the Forest Service and ask advice about my bear issue.  Someone told me they’ll give you a couple of M-80 fireworks to discourage, but not hurt, a bear that has become a regular visitor.  But doesn’t that mean opening the door?  

During the rest of my remaining time here, just three days, I’ll hold my breath while Contractor Brian shingles our steep 45 degree roof, inventory and organize the lights, door knobs, faucets, and other items I’ve bought for the cabin that will be installed in my absence, get the trailer ready to leave, and hopefully see some neighboring friends that are due here any day now.

I spent much of today on the covered part of the deck my contractor rushed so that I could experience what will be one of the most frequented and best loved parts of the cabin before leaving.  My morning included a travel mug of mocha and an afghan draped over my shoulders.  Later I loaded up one of my Mexican shopping bags with water, binoculars, bird books, wildlife and wildflower guides, a couple of novels, and a sliced apple with peanut butter for lunch and returned to the porch.  I didn’t get much fiction read, but spent a great deal of time reviewing Rocky Mountain flora and fauna, and ID’d a new bird, the diminutive blue-gray gnatcatcher.  It’s amazing what you see if you sit quietly and patiently with a pair of binoculars.  

Strictly decorative puff ball clouds turned more serious late this afternoon, and a few fat drops fell on me in the hammock where I’d retreated when the strong 4 PM sun had claimed the porch.  Thunder rumbled a bit and then quit, but by sunset the clouds were building in the west and heading my way.  The velvet antlered buck and his doe that frequent our site crossed the saddle and disappeared into the densest part of the forest behind me.  The sky turned orange both where the sun was setting and reflecting off the cumulus to the east.  I pushed my luck watching the show from the high rocks a hundred yards from the trailer as twilight fell fast and I wondered what my strategy would be if a bear beat me home.  

I’m now secure inside my “bread box”.  The clouds that made sunset so stunning are now illuminating the sky with explosive flashes of lightning, and the thunder is rolling around the valley like a tympani drum concert.  Nothing is striking too close, and that’s good as I’m quite aware I’m sitting on a ridge in an oversized steel can.  It’s raining off and on, big drops, but nothing too hard, hopefully just enough to keep bears and racoons snug in their lairs, just as Bump and I are snug in ours.  

Now if I only had an indoor loo...