Today I returned to Hurricane Ridge and decided on the Hurricane Ridge Trail, which climbs through steep wildflower-covered meadows. Purple and white flox, vivid scarlet and orange Indian paintbrush, sapphire larkspur and purple lupine covered the green slopes.

As I hiked, the cool wind whipping from the steep valleys below, twice I spied black bears meandering on nearby slopes, searching for roots and tubers. One of the bears, exhausted from his effort and climb, flopped down in a patch of snow, panting on his side before resuming his forage. The trails are still very snowy here (in the photo below, see the trail heading off to the right).

Black-tailed deer, unafraid of humans in this protected area, passed solemnly by me on the trail, walking mere feet away. The rich scent of pine and crisp mountian air filled the wind, that specific and sweet smell of the subalpine zone that I love so much.

Clouds drifted and filled the valleys far below, sometimes revealing a peak, othertimes veiling one. Clouds whipped by around me, enveloping me in ethereal mists.