Tracks in the Snow

 

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There is comfort in being the only guest in a small motel and often the only customer at the café —a sense that I am a member of a club.  “Everyone gets along here, there’s no drama,” says Amy, waitress this morning, and maybe bartender tonight and housekeeper tomorrow. 

 

Hardly anyone says good morning when they come into the store/gas station/café.  They make some casual comment instead.  Mine today was, “Mule deer on the west hill, just standin’ still at daybreak; coyotes yappin’.” Not an uncommon sight or sound around here.  Nobody got excited.  

 

There was not enough light for pictures when I saw the mule deer, and they’re too far away anyway.  So far, my only picture of a mule deer is that road-kill you may have seen in my last blog post.  

 

Moose prints on a frozen creek

I’ve seen moose too, but they have no interest in letting me take their picture.  A few years ago, during the October rut in nearby Grand Teton National Park, a bull moose had more interest in me than I wanted, and my pictures of him were fantastic.   

 

Moose poop

During winter, bulls are not defending harems, and don’t consider me a threat.  So while  feeling ignored, I also feel safer.  Now I photograph their tracks and their poop.  

 

This might be the track of someone’s large domestic dog, or it might be a wolf.  It’s hard to tell the difference.  I placed my boot print beside it in this picture to show its size.  If it’s a dog I would expect to see boot prints heading in the same direction.  But I don’t see any boot prints.   

 

Moose print beside wolf print

If my younger sister were here and I were ten years old, I would not say that it could be a dog.  I was smart back then and knew what to say at any given moment, could take any possible danger and find the logical anecdote to terrorize her.  I would tell her that this is definitely a wolf print because of its size, having four toes, and that a pack of wolves is stalking us at this very moment.  

 

If you wish to drive on a snowy dirt road for fifteen miles, then trudge through half a mile of snow, you can see rock carvings made a thousand years ago or more on the high Wyoming plain. This petroglyph could be my sister and I.   

 

Experts can’t give a clear understanding of who these ancient people were or what their art means.  So I will render an opinion, as others have done, on this scene of an elongated animal in the lower left, high mountains above, and above the mountains a fish in the upper right.  I think it is abstract art, not intended to look real.  I don’t know why the four-legged animal’s body is too long, or what a fish is doing above mountains, but these people knew how to survive cold winters, and how to hunt.  They imagined many things, as poets and artists and ancient people did.  Maybe they wanted to inspire anyone who follows, even if our imagining is different form theirs.  (Incidentally, you may want to click on this picture or any picture to enlarge it, then press escape to return.)

 

Please see maps prepared by Michael Angerman showing the places the places I stayed.

Map for the summer trip of 2020:  Michael's Map 

Map for the winter trip of 2021:   Google Map for Winter 2021