The Furious Spinner

Last night we had our first tracking and wilderness safety class. A woman in town who lived for four summers with the grizzlies in Alaska and who works with search and rescue as a tracker in our county is teaching the class. She'll have a book out eventually about her experiences with the bears, and I'll let you know when that happens. She's an amazing woman.

She had great stories last night and today. What I have realized is that all my so-called paranoia is perfectly suited to this subject. Many of the things I've been doing on trails for years is exactly what I should be doing. I look at the cars in the parking lot to try and figure out what kind of people are on the trail. I also leave if something doesn't look or feel right to me. I lie on the trail all the time when people ask me questions. I never say I'm alone. She also suggests we don't park at the trailhead; park someplace else and walk to the trail. Also, always park so you can get right out.

Afterward, I thought I'd dream of bears or psychos. Instead I dreamed of millet and the Old Mermaid Sanctuary, the one in Arizona we visit in the winter. In the dream, I put millet in all kinds of shapes. I remember most vividly a beautiful spiral. In the Old Mermaid Sanctuary part of the dream, it was time for Mario and I to go home. I said to Mario, "But it seems like we just got here." He said, "We did. It's only been two weeks." And then we wandered around looking for a place to go. I think this means I need to do a millet post. And the other: we're looking for a new Old Mermaid Sanctuary for the winter, so that's probably what that part of it was about. *sigh* (Anyone know of a beautiful, affordable, and environmentally safe place in the Southwest on in Mexico where Mario and I can go to write for part of the winter?)

Today, we went out into the woods near to Falling Creek, in the Giff where I hike all the time. We tracked in high grass and then in the forest, without grass. That was much more difficult than tracking in the grass. After lunch, we walked on a trail and looked for signs of animals. It's different to walk on a trail when you're actually looking around and being aware than just trucking through the forest to get exercise. I found fresh bear claw marks on a tree. A drop of gold sap gleamed from one of the claw marks—so it was fresh. Then I found some tracks that turned out to be cougar tracks. I would have never known that but our tracker told us what they were. Plus we saw where a porcupine had been gnawing on a tree; old claw marks that could have been bear or cougar; and a couple of smaller trees shredded by antlers.

To me, tracking is reading a story without words. I love it, and I've been wanting some training in this area for such a long time. It was great fun. Tomorrow night, we're going out into the woods in cougar country and sitting still. In the dark. In the night.

Oh my.

Labels: dreams, Falling Creek, food, nature, tracking

4 comments

4 Comments:

Oh, I'm very interested to hear more about your class. I would like to do something similar, probably next summer. There are a couple of women in my part of the world who have just begun a school; they teach herbalism a la Susun Weed, tracking, and outdoor survival skills.

Why should I not park at the trail head?

By  Inanna, at 8:46 PM  

So that if someone is out looking for trouble, they won't know where you are. You could park at a trailhead and then go walk to a different trailhead. It's to confuse the bad guys. You'd want those nearest and dearest to know that you do this, however, just in case you get lost.

By  Kim Antieau, at 8:58 PM  

Kim, you are going to love doing this - it was years before I got into tracking, and now it has become a natural thing to do, a headset or mindful space I slide into whenever I go out to the woods and hills and fields. Life is a much richer enterprise for it.

Absolutely right, to track in the wild places is to read wonderful stories which have no words, and what amazing stories they are!!! Somewhere, Gaia (the Old wild Mother) is smiling, and that dear lady has so little to smile about these days. Love and BB, Cate

By  kerrdeLune (cate), at 5:37 AM  

I've been thinking of you when I'm out in those woods, Cate. The Old Wild Mother is still there. She can take care of herself, one way or the other.

By  Kim Antieau, at 6:14 PM  

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