Trudy
Member
This short overnight got off to a late start. I pulled into the trailhead parking lot for Colgate Lake around 7 pm. At the trail register I signed in for Beaver Meadow, about a 2.5 mile hike. My object was to camp under clear skies and watch for meteors.
Just a few steps past the register, a woman approached. We said hello and I was nearly past her when I came to a halt. On her heels was a small yellow duck. Then I noticed the cup of mash in her hand.
"You're hiking with a duck," I said.
"We just came 4 miles," she said. "He loves to hike."
"That's amazing."
"This is his second time here. The first time he was only 8 weeks old, can you believe it? He did really well today. He only got tired and let me carry him for about an hour."
"What's his name?"
"Oscar. The only thing today was, the trail was really wet and he stopped in all the puddles. I had to come back for him."
I continued to express my admiration for Oscar. She nodded. "He hikes further than my daughter."
She was right, the trail was wet. Oscar was too light to leave a web print, but I started to take note of all the places where he might have had trouble clambering over the rocks and all the small pools that would have offered him a swimming opportunity. There were some very rough stretches, particularly if you were only a foot high.
I'd gone less than a mile when my left achilles flared up and soon I was hobbling. I thought of Oscar, carrying on gamely, up and down, over the rocks. It was very humbling. Oscar was fitter, more determined and more keen to hike than I was. I set up a legal camp well off the trail and spent the night there, far short of my destination.
In the middle of the night a single coyote howled not far away and something about it - the wolf quality - made me shiver.
What would Oscar have made of the coyote? Would he have wanted to be picked up? Probably not, I thought.
Just a few steps past the register, a woman approached. We said hello and I was nearly past her when I came to a halt. On her heels was a small yellow duck. Then I noticed the cup of mash in her hand.
"You're hiking with a duck," I said.
"We just came 4 miles," she said. "He loves to hike."
"That's amazing."
"This is his second time here. The first time he was only 8 weeks old, can you believe it? He did really well today. He only got tired and let me carry him for about an hour."
"What's his name?"
"Oscar. The only thing today was, the trail was really wet and he stopped in all the puddles. I had to come back for him."
I continued to express my admiration for Oscar. She nodded. "He hikes further than my daughter."
She was right, the trail was wet. Oscar was too light to leave a web print, but I started to take note of all the places where he might have had trouble clambering over the rocks and all the small pools that would have offered him a swimming opportunity. There were some very rough stretches, particularly if you were only a foot high.
I'd gone less than a mile when my left achilles flared up and soon I was hobbling. I thought of Oscar, carrying on gamely, up and down, over the rocks. It was very humbling. Oscar was fitter, more determined and more keen to hike than I was. I set up a legal camp well off the trail and spent the night there, far short of my destination.
In the middle of the night a single coyote howled not far away and something about it - the wolf quality - made me shiver.
What would Oscar have made of the coyote? Would he have wanted to be picked up? Probably not, I thought.
