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We saw twelve in one bunch.
We followed the ridgecrest, hopping among the unusual sandstone-conglomerate formations. Continuing south to a small gap, we found a spring that flowed down an old jeep trail, and drank. Our faces and arms were red, burned by the ever-present wind and blazing mountain sun. (The altitude was ca. 4000 feet.)
Except for occasional deep bogs, the jeep trail made for easy walking. It angled down and across the rolling hills, and ended abruptly at an intermittent creek. From there, we headed towards Blackbird Knob, admiring the work of beavers all along the way. Some beaver ponds were active; most were abandoned; One small drainage had eleven recently constructed ponds in close succession. The upper one had a grass and earthen dam, and was less than four feet wide! In a larger pond, we saw one beaver, bobbing in the water near its hemispherical lodge.
Foot-weary, sunburned and windbumed, we reached our heavenly campsite. Dinner was potatoes, onions, and sausage. (Blueberries for dessert.) We talked about the day’s experiences, and
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