The Rut...

Luke and I headed to the high country again yesterday, a trip I look forward to each year. I wish we could do more this year, but circumstances at home prevent us from enjoying this particular part of fall this year. I tried to make the most of it, but regret that I couldn't get video. I also regret I didn't get better (or more) pictures, but some is better than none.

Part of what hampered the video and pictures was the weather. It was snowing. Real snow. Big, fat flakes, albeit very wet and heavy (typical early snow). As such, electronic equipment gets cranky. The other part was, again, the weather.

You see, this is the peak time in the elk rut. This is when the bull elk wander around in an almost stupor while bugling for cows and fighting each other. Hormones seem to do that to all living things. My original plan was to drive the 3'ish hours to Rocky Mountain National Park (Estes Park) because I knew it basically guaranteed large numbers of elk, but I also knew there would be 8-bazillion people (because of the rut and the afore mentioned large numbers of elk) and I didn't want to deal with that. So I decided to go to an area near Vail, instead.

There is an place called Dowd's Junction that has trails for viewing area wildlife. During the rut, the elk are what everyone wants to see. You can go almost anywhere in the high country and hear a bugle off in the distance, but you have to be in the right spot to actually see them. This is one of those places that offers you the "right" spot.

I already mentioned the snow, despite the fact you can't actually see it in the pictures. I had Luke dressed plenty warm enough, and he was fine wandering around the trails. I, on the other hand, went armed and had to pretend to be a chameleon with my eyes. The elk were thick yesterday (thanks in part to the weather, they were feasting to prepare for the storm), and we were basically surrounded. I knew we were okay, but also know enough that I needed to be sure we, or the elk, didn't get too close. We moved a lot.


So, the only times I was able to feel safe getting pictures was when we were in the trees. That makes it difficult because the trees are in the way. But Luke loved it. He was picking up stuff from the ground, handing it to me, and squeeling back at the elk. They obviously knew we were there, and they obviously didn't care about Luke's little imitation of them.


We saw a couple of fight threats, but no actual fights. There was one bull who lost all his cows and kept inching in to attempt getting them back, but he'd run everytime the bull who took them would lift his head. I admit, I was disappointed, but the object was to see and hear the bulls bugle. We achieved that.

I decided it would be easier and safer to make the trek home via I-70, which was the "junction" of Dowds Junction, and go through Denver to get home than heading back down through the mining roads (which are now state highways and wonderfully easy to traverse). I didn't really want to worry about the wet roads in 30-degree temps. Wasn't my best choice since it took almost 5 hours to get back home (YIKES!!!). Granted, that's not normal, but it still means it wasn't my best choice of the day.

Still, it was such a lovely day and one of the most beautiful drives I've done. Mining ghost towns, past-peak leaves, an old WWII Army camp, snow blanketing and clouds shrouding the numerous 14'ers (including the tallest peak in Colorado) dotting the area, and the stars of the day: the elk. It was great. Sort of a sad end of the season for me (because I'll miss it so desperately until I can get up there again...which won't be for months), but also a good one.