We were up early and, after a good breakfast, soon working our way up a brushy ridge. Before the end of the day the forest began to thin out and some alpine flowers, indian paint brush and lupine, began to appear. I decided there was no use worrying about the goats eating poisonous plants such as hellebore. They either knew which plants not to eat or had a tolerance for those that would make us sick. By sunset we were on top of the mountain. What a beautiful garden it was! Wild flowers in many colours as far as one could see. Western anemone grew in profusion. The ground was mostly free of trees, with only castle-like groups of western balsam or alpine fir, as it is commonly called. We kept hiking until we found good drinking water and a suitable place to camp. We would stay here for a few days. It was a delightful area and getting to tired would steal from the enjoyment.
After dark, we were sitting around the campfire and Chelsea said,” It think I’ll call home.” “Chelsea,” I said, “Even if you could call loud enough to be heard at home I doubt if you would hear your mother shout back an answer, and you’ll start the wolves howling for miles around.” to which she answered “Grandpa, you live in the stone age.” With that well placed bit of criticism she fished a cell-phone from her pack and was soon talking to her mom. I’m sure minds at home were relieved to know we were all was well with us but I was flabbergasted. My link with civilization when in the bush has always been a blaze on a tree. We lazed around camp a few days with me cooking bannocks, Chelsea writing notes in her field book, and Logan collecting all that crawled under rocks and logs.
The urge to explore was soon on us again and a bright morning saw us wending our way along the top of the mountain. We always stopped at noon and lifted the packs from the goats while we ate our lunch and took our siesta though it doesn’t take them long to learn if they lie down the packs will rest on the ground. There were many jewel like tarns that bade the traveller tarry awhile. Logan liked to wade in bare feet, the cold never seeming to bother him.
