Training Log Archive: SwampfoxIn the 7 days ending Oct 18, 2015: |
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Saturday Oct 17, 2015 #
Note
While running in the Crow Creek drainage, I heard sounds ahead which I guessed was coming from some halted mountain bikers. I stopped for a moment to listen better and then realized it wasn't mountain bikers but some animal making frequent low grunting noises (admit it: don't your local mountain bikers also communicate in frequent low grunting noises?). I continued and in a few moments a massively large bull moose was in view. It was trotting away from the trail with a purpose, pausing every so often to rattle its antlers against any handy aspen trees. Then I saw another movement out of the corner of my eye. Was it an errant Russian cruise missile? A tuft of Donald Trump's hair wafting in the breeze? An In-n-Out sign being installed off Crow Creek? Of course it wasn't any of those things--don't be silly.
It was another, nearly equally massive bull moose, and it was also moving with a purpose, the purpose apparently being to intersect paths with moose #1. Pretty soon they were both out of sight, so I started running again, and almost immediately I heard very loud clashing noises of antler against antler, and I could still hear the fighting from as much as a mile further down the trail.
They must have each really wanted to be the first in line at the Crow Creek In-n-Out Burger.
It was another, nearly equally massive bull moose, and it was also moving with a purpose, the purpose apparently being to intersect paths with moose #1. Pretty soon they were both out of sight, so I started running again, and almost immediately I heard very loud clashing noises of antler against antler, and I could still hear the fighting from as much as a mile further down the trail.
They must have each really wanted to be the first in line at the Crow Creek In-n-Out Burger.
Note
While running in the Crow Creek drainage, I heard sounds ahead which I guessed was coming from some halted mountain bikers. I stopped for a moment to listen better and then realized it wasn't mountain bikers but some animal making frequent low grunting noises (admit it: don't your local mountain bikers also communicate in frequent low grunting noises?). I continued and in a few moments a massively large bull moose was in view. It was trotting away from the trail with a purpose, pausing every so often to rattle its antlers against any handy aspen trees. Then I saw another movement out of the corner of my eye. Was it an errant Russian cruise missile? A tuft of Donald Trump's hair wafting in the breeze? An In-n-Out sign being installed off Crow Creek? Of course it wasn't any of those things--don't be silly.
It was another, nearly equally massive bull moose, and it was also moving with a purpose, the purpose apparently being to intersect paths with moose #1. Pretty soon they were both out of sight, so I started running again, and almost immediately I heard very loud clashing noises of antler against antler, and I could still hear the fighting from as much as a mile further down the trail.
They must have each really wanted to be the first in line at the Crow Creek In-n-Out Burger.
It was another, nearly equally massive bull moose, and it was also moving with a purpose, the purpose apparently being to intersect paths with moose #1. Pretty soon they were both out of sight, so I started running again, and almost immediately I heard very loud clashing noises of antler against antler, and I could still hear the fighting from as much as a mile further down the trail.
They must have each really wanted to be the first in line at the Crow Creek In-n-Out Burger.
Friday Oct 16, 2015 #
Note
Since hunting hadn't started yesterday, and thinking it would start tomorrow, I elected to do one last O' training before the onset of rifle season. In general, I don't worry about hunters locally--all the ones I've seen or met have struck me as being pretty responsible--but I do usually stay away from where hunters are likely to be for at least the first few days of the season, and I also make a point to go out more in the middle of the day and not as light is waning towards the end of the day.
And I opted to go run at Forrest Meadows. After all these years, it's still one of my favorite local areas.
No sooner than I had parked off the Happy Jack road (the gate on the road that goes to the map has been locked all year while the forest service apparently continues to mull how to install a culvert through a piece of the road crossing a very small stream) than a truck with three guys decked out in hunting clothing pulled in behind me. I said hello and asked them if hunting season had started, and they said yeah, it started yesterday.
Ahh.
They were friendly and we chatted for a little bit, and then I headed off while they got their gear together.
It all worked out about as I had hoped: it was a beautiful afternoon for O', sunny and in the 60s, I had a great time with the course I had drawn up, and, as if it wasn't already good enough, nobody even shot at me!
Actually, I didn't hear any shots taken at any animals, either. The hunters had mentioned that the unusually warm September and (so far) October had shaped conditions that were not very good for hunting--either the rut was delayed or the unusual warmth made the bulls less interested in sex and more interested in lounging on sofas and watching football and drinking beer and eating chips, or something along those lines.
As for tomorrow and Sunday, I imagine I will play it safe and stick to some trail running, and leave the hunters to their own devices.
And I opted to go run at Forrest Meadows. After all these years, it's still one of my favorite local areas.
No sooner than I had parked off the Happy Jack road (the gate on the road that goes to the map has been locked all year while the forest service apparently continues to mull how to install a culvert through a piece of the road crossing a very small stream) than a truck with three guys decked out in hunting clothing pulled in behind me. I said hello and asked them if hunting season had started, and they said yeah, it started yesterday.
Ahh.
They were friendly and we chatted for a little bit, and then I headed off while they got their gear together.
It all worked out about as I had hoped: it was a beautiful afternoon for O', sunny and in the 60s, I had a great time with the course I had drawn up, and, as if it wasn't already good enough, nobody even shot at me!
Actually, I didn't hear any shots taken at any animals, either. The hunters had mentioned that the unusually warm September and (so far) October had shaped conditions that were not very good for hunting--either the rut was delayed or the unusual warmth made the bulls less interested in sex and more interested in lounging on sofas and watching football and drinking beer and eating chips, or something along those lines.
As for tomorrow and Sunday, I imagine I will play it safe and stick to some trail running, and leave the hunters to their own devices.
Thursday Oct 15, 2015 #
Note
Today was the first day of (rifle) hunting season locally, and in an effort to avoid being shot, I made two strategic decisions. Neither of these involved not running in the woods.
First, I would wear brightly colored clothing, reducing the odds that I would be mistaken for an elk or a trophy deer. Of course, if someone were looking to bag a trophy swampfox instead, this particular move wouldn't work out so well, but I estimated the odds that someone had drawn a swampfox tag as extremely low--approaching zero, even.
Second, I would run on the Happy Jack trails, well away from any roads and inaccessible/off-limits to ATVs. It's not so much that hunters are lazy, rather, it's that hunters are Americans, and Americans these days are particularly disinclined to get out of their vehicles or off their ATVs, or do anything that might involve sweating and/or elevated heart rates. Even in once fitness crazed Colorado, sales of sofas (good for lounging on) vastly outpace sales of running shoes (very bad for lounging on). Just check out the size of the sofa section in even the smaller American Furniture Warehouse stores--you could easily fit all the running stores in Colorado in just a single sofa section and still have a lot of room left over to to do some TV sales, too.
Plus, even if you are one of those rare hunters willing to walk a bit off the beaten path in the quest of a superior animal, there is the daunting problem of what to do after you have shot the beast. I don't know what the rules are in other states, but in Wyoming not only does a license allow you to shoot a game animal, it also *requires* you to harvest the meat once you have done so. If you don't take the meat, you have broken the law. That explains why so often when a hunter has hiked several miles into a prime elk area and spots several bull elk, rather than selecting the largest and most well muscled bull elk, they will instead shoot the most emaciated, marathon runner elk, figuring that one will have the least meat they will have to pack out.
So, out to the Happy Jack trails! I selected a route that would take me past several viewpoints over the lower landscapes to the south and east, thinking it would be interesting to see how large the hunting hordes would be on opening day.
Much to my surprise--I was shocked, actually--I didn't see a single hunter (and even when they're two or three miles off, it's pretty easy to pick out hunters decked out in orange), nor even a single parked vehicle!
That was so odd that by the time I finished, I had decided that I must have had the opening date wrong. Maybe hunting season opens up on Saturday instead? That might actually make more sense.
First, I would wear brightly colored clothing, reducing the odds that I would be mistaken for an elk or a trophy deer. Of course, if someone were looking to bag a trophy swampfox instead, this particular move wouldn't work out so well, but I estimated the odds that someone had drawn a swampfox tag as extremely low--approaching zero, even.
Second, I would run on the Happy Jack trails, well away from any roads and inaccessible/off-limits to ATVs. It's not so much that hunters are lazy, rather, it's that hunters are Americans, and Americans these days are particularly disinclined to get out of their vehicles or off their ATVs, or do anything that might involve sweating and/or elevated heart rates. Even in once fitness crazed Colorado, sales of sofas (good for lounging on) vastly outpace sales of running shoes (very bad for lounging on). Just check out the size of the sofa section in even the smaller American Furniture Warehouse stores--you could easily fit all the running stores in Colorado in just a single sofa section and still have a lot of room left over to to do some TV sales, too.
Plus, even if you are one of those rare hunters willing to walk a bit off the beaten path in the quest of a superior animal, there is the daunting problem of what to do after you have shot the beast. I don't know what the rules are in other states, but in Wyoming not only does a license allow you to shoot a game animal, it also *requires* you to harvest the meat once you have done so. If you don't take the meat, you have broken the law. That explains why so often when a hunter has hiked several miles into a prime elk area and spots several bull elk, rather than selecting the largest and most well muscled bull elk, they will instead shoot the most emaciated, marathon runner elk, figuring that one will have the least meat they will have to pack out.
So, out to the Happy Jack trails! I selected a route that would take me past several viewpoints over the lower landscapes to the south and east, thinking it would be interesting to see how large the hunting hordes would be on opening day.
Much to my surprise--I was shocked, actually--I didn't see a single hunter (and even when they're two or three miles off, it's pretty easy to pick out hunters decked out in orange), nor even a single parked vehicle!
That was so odd that by the time I finished, I had decided that I must have had the opening date wrong. Maybe hunting season opens up on Saturday instead? That might actually make more sense.
Tuesday Oct 13, 2015 #
Note
O' at Remarkable Flats. What is really remarkable is we haven't had any (ground) frost yet. Maybe Thursday night, according to the current forecast. That will be really, really late. It's already been the best fall so far, and it looks like a good many more very nice days are lined up.