Moose, redux

I've been asked by a reader to share (re-share) my moose story. You can enter "moose" into the search box of this blog to see the original, if you're into authenticity or something like that. For some reason you can pull it up that way, but not as a stand alone page, which is why I was asked to re-do it.

Enough jabbering.

It's also a good time to re-share the story, since Daughter #1 is thinking about heading into Glacier National Park, where this story took place.

This is exactly how I like trips to go. It fulfilled the three major criteria: Got some great pictures, came back with a great story, and no humans or animals were harmed in the making of this documentary.
Philoboy and I set out for two weeks in the great West. On the way, we passed through some arches in Utah, over some little mountains called the Rockies, and ended up in Glacier National Park. This might possibly be the most beautiful place on earth. I want to go back to see if it's really as gorgeous as I remember. In this amazing place, we went hiking. We took our cute little walking sticks with the bear bells, 'cause much as the woods seem like a cathedral and make you want to talk quietly so as not to disturb the wildlife, in this neck of the woods it's Be Rude or Be Food!
As we're strolling along, trying to pretend we're not breathing hard from the climb, we meet Mama Moose. The trail is 2 feet wide. To the left is a bank twelve feet high. To the right is a twelve foot drop to the trail below. To the front is a six foot high moose who is puzzled someone is on her trail. This is what a puzzled moose looks like:

At this point Philoboy and I are enthralled at how cool it is to be close to nature. Until nature started getting close to us. Like this:

Mama Moose makes this mosey down the trail every morning to meet the girls for a graze and a gossip. There are not supposed to be humans in the way. She has gone from puzzled to perturbed. This is what a perturbed moose looks like:

It's starting to look like she's coming through no matter what, so I nudge Philoboy and hand him the camera, hissing "you're in front, get the shot!" as I slink behind a tree. Interpreted, this means: "get the picture, and if she charges, fling your body in front of her to protect me, meanwhile not dropping the camera." I got that look from him.


NOW Mama Moose is late for the coffee klatch at the creek and she's gone from perturbed to pissed off. I'm wondering what it feels like to be crushed between a moose and a tree. This is what a pissed off moose looks like:

And this is where Mama Moose and Philoboy decided at the same time to cede the trail:

And this is one upset moose, leaving the scene of an almost accident:

It was nice to meet you! Glad you weren't a bear!!