Mountain Glory.
Since all the gates were locked and the pull-outs cordoned off, last week's attempt to hike up the mountain to check on my trail cams didn't work out. However, I noticed on the drive home that the pull-outs on Panoramic Highway near the junction of Muir Woods and Sequoia Valley roads were not cordoned off, so I went back up this week, this time with my e-bike in tow, in the hope the pull-outs would still be open.
They were, and it was awesome to ride up the mountain among the fog and redwoods, with only two vehicles passing me the whole way. Up near Rock Spring the sky lupine were doing their April thing, and I turned around after snapping this photo to see a coyote looking down at me from the embankment above the road.
I locked my bike at the bottom of the trail, where a pair of deer browsed along the edge of the meadow a good social distance away.
Although I was on a mission to replace the batteries in my cams, I took a few minutes just to savor a little woodland ecstasy, complete with fog beams, moss-covered trees, wet and spongy duff smelling fresh and mushroomy, and the gobbles of turkeys sounding from just down the hill.
A coyote showed up on this cam for the first time and was picked up by a second cam not too far away. I actually kick myself now because I moved that second cam to capture a different angle, which previous experience indicated might yield better results. In normal times, having seen these new images, I would have gone back up there the next day with my fourth cam, the one I use in my back yard, to get better coverage on that area.
At least one bobcat has been showing up more frequently as well. This cam also captured a very pregnant doe.
The gray fox (and the bobcat) are still scent-posting below this Douglas fir. The gray squirrel still shows up a lot here, and a jackrabbit has been passing through quite often. Not as many deer as earlier in the year, and no quail, scrub jays, or varied thrush in the last few weeks.
There were quite a few other cyclists on the mountain, and still more coming up the hill as I descended. The glide back down was cold on my bare legs but still superb, and I wasn't passed by a single car (my ebike is Class II, with a top assist speed of 20 mph, but I was often coasting between 25 and 35 mph).
When I got back to the road junction I could see a piece of paper flapping on my windshield. It looked too big to be a parking ticket, and indeed it turned out to be a warning note, which is why I didn't go back the next day to set another trail cam.
Although I grudgingly understand the reasoning behind such draconian orders and am all about sheltering in place, I feel a heck of a lot safer in the woods than I do in the local grocery store or even when I'm out for a walk in my own neighborhood.
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