Similar to a Sunday drive, but without the car or the blue hair

Following a late breakfast, and some time in town at the Folklore in a futile attempt to do even a small amount of work, we found ourselves yesterday with yet another unimaginably beautiful midwinter Sunday afternoon with which to explore the Red Canyon neighborhood.

With the afternoon sun in the western sky, we departed Red Canyon Ranch and headed up a side canyon toward the sun's descent. After hiking the length of a narrow hay meadow, a long, sage-carpeted slope loomed above. Since we've seen elk milling around on this hillside, and since elk might be in the process of shedding their antlers, I convinced Kel that we should head higher and see what we might see.


As an aside, the only reason Kelly was in need of convincing was the previous day's adventure she had while with Suba on the other side of the canyon. After moving up a tight, wooded side canyon and on to the first rim, she noticed something moving very near the cliff edge about one hundred feet away. Fearing it was Suba, she yelled for him to get back. Suba, however, was right there alongside her. Returning her focus on the creature ahead, it turned its eyes on her. It was at that point that Kel saw it was a mountain lion. Haste ensued, and she returned to the trailhead as fast as her Sundowners and still-recovering foot would allow.

With that excitement, and the soreness in her legs and feet, in mind, we still chose to head upward, at least to a point where some lonely weathered pines held on near a crest in the ridge. Taking an essentially straight bearing on those pines, we quickly gained vertical ground. When we finally reached the trees, it was only a short distance to the rim of what was, at that point, a narrow chasm formed by the tributary stream. It was an idyllic spot to bask in the late day sun, scan the opposite canyon wall for signs of wildlife, and enjoy a new and expansive view of Red Canyon from perhaps a thousand feet above the trailhead.


The sun began to quickly descend, while at the same time, cold air from the canyon's depths began to rush up over the rim. It was time to head for home. Though we found no antlers, nor artifacts, and only a couple interesting rocks, it was a memorable February day in Wyoming. After returning home, it was all we could do to make it through dinner and, then, to bed. Even late this morning, Suba seemed to be in the grip of significant inertia. Though we were all reluctant to let go of the weekend, we were grateful that it was a long one.

More soon.