Rocky Mountain Wolves

Three

~

I jerked upright, drenched in sweat and breathing hard. I felt like I was burning up, even though my skin was a normal temperature.

Taking a few deep breaths as the wolves faded from my mind, I looked towards my window.

It was the hour before dawn on Saturday, way too early to be up on a weekend. The window was glazed with frost, and pale light filtered in. I got up and used the palm of my hand to melt a spot to see out of.

It had snowed in the night, a good seven or eight inches. That explained why everything sounded muffled.

Realizing I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, I pulled on sweats and one of Dad's old Ranger hoodies before going downstairs.

Dad had gone this morning to check the winter campsites, so I was alone as I made some tea and took it out to the back deck.

The air was crisp, smelling of pine and snow. Our deck was pretty sheltered, and only had the barest dusting of snow. I leaned on the railing, looking out into the trees.

Birds chirped and the wind whistled in the pines. A bluejay swooped into the yard and landed on the bird feeder. I watched as it scratched through the mixed seed to find what it wanted.

I sipped the piping hot tea, and looked east. A thin layer of frozen clouds dimmed the sunlight as it came up, bathing everything in that watery winter sunshine.

A cold breeze moved through the yard, tossing my long hair around. Eventually I grew cold, but I couldn't bring myself to go inside yet.

Searing warmth surged up inside me, making me gasp and drop my mug. It burned through my veins, and I dropped to me knees, panting.

After a moment, it passed, and I got up slowly. I grabbed the mug and went back inside.

I immediately chalked it up to my wolf paranoia, telling myself that it was because I had been close to the forest and panicked. In reality, I had no idea what that had been.

I dressed in some of my hiking clothes, warm and insulating, and went outside to shovel the driveway.

I could hear Jessa doing the same down the lane, shovel scraping against the gravel on the old pavement.

I walked back and forth behind the shovel, breath freezing in the air as I exhaled. I cleared the entire driveway, porch, and footpath to the garage full of Dad's stuff and my backpacking and camping gear.

I watched Clearwater wake up, people getting in their cars and either driving to the grocery store or bakery or towards the highway. Kids in snow suits playing in the fresh snow, or shovelling the driveway like me. Two snowploughs cleared the streets quickly, and the thin cloud cover burned away to reveal a stunningly blue sky.

On a whim, I went inside and hauled out my day hike gear from the back of my closet. I checked it over, making sure that everything was in good condition.

I then pulled out Dad's trail maps, hunting for a decent hike on South Peak. I mapped a 2.5-hours-each-way route, mapped a copy for Dad, and then left him a note explaining my timeline and what gear I had.

I put my pack on, adjusted the straps to sit comfortably, and then locked up.

I followed a narrow foot trail from our back yard to a disused logging road, and then located the trail I wanted. It followed a creek to a step in the mountain, and was labeled an intermediate hike.