Dumdad's tribute was a nice surprise upon arrival home from a long weekend away. We took advantage of a brief break in the November rains to head up to the cabin and hike in the mountains. We chose the Mount Slesse area, and gave our city slicker SUV a lesson in real four wheelin' to reach the trail head up a labyrinth of logging roads.
It was lovely. There was a dusting of new snow on the peaks.
The dogs were in heaven, chasing scents and each other down the trail. We hiked in peaceful silence, perhaps feeling a bit eerie knowing that in 1956 a Trans Canada Airline plane crashed into the side of Mount Slesse, killing all on board.
Then: Bang! Bang! Bang! Oh shit. Hunting season. Nothing ruins a good hike like the thought of stray bullets from beer guzzling, animal murdering red necks. "Fucking hunters" I mumbled to B. " Hey!!!" I shouted. "Don't shoot this way!!
Around the next corner ran a young man dressed completely in camouflage, carrying a rifle. "Hi" he said. "Are you guys O.K.? I thought I heard an S.O.S blast on an air horn, so I fired three rounds in the air in answer, and I was heading that way to help." We had heard the air horn too, but knew it was just a choker chain warning from a small logging operation we had seen down the mountain. We explained, and with a cheerful "Have a great hike guys!" helpful hunter dude went on his way. Damn, another cherished stereotype ruined.
It was a great hike.
Today's dream travel destination: One of my favourite hikes, that I did with an old friend about 10 years ago. A warmer one than any trails here right now. The Kalalau trail in Kauai, Hawaii.
