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A
few yards further I met the moose, and settled in as an observer.For
half and hour, maybe longer, I watched as the two animals wandered
in and out of the trees, until it seemed they could ignore my
presence. I ventured out through the snow, stomping down to
the water's edge, getting closer to the roar of the running
creek. Water trickled out of the rock, following a path worn
smooth by time.
I
heard them about the same time as the moose-another group of
snow machines, their engines the hum of a beehive. Instead of
watching, as the moose had done when I arrived, they trotted
off, their long bodies lumbering over the packed trail. In a
minute
they splashed down into the water, stepping out of sight into
another stand of pines.
But
there were still lots of wonders of nature to discover on the
trails. I made the complete Black Canyon Loop, feeling the thrill
of riding the narrow ledges that wound up the mountainside to
the top of the canyon. Below me the snow was hundreds of feet
deep, where it sifted over the edges and collected. It was a
world of white that mesmerized me.
Further
along, pine trees covered the terrain so thickly it was difficult
to see the white slopes beyond. A tiny building, like a child's
playhouse, perched on the edge of the trail for a warm-up shack.
Snow, at least a foot deep, created a thick winter icing on
its top. While the day was warm, I could imagine how relieved
winter travelers would be to find the sheltering space when
the winter winds howled over the mountains.
Making
my way back to West Yellowstone I marveled at the secrets hidden
in the snows of its mountains and National Forests.
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