Gosh, you really liked this, didn't you. I'm so pleased. I love your outdoor travel posts. Did I ever tell you my daughter loved reading your account of seeing all the wildlife in the Galapagos? She said she'd definitely do it -- later (later because hanging out with a bunch of buddies is her primary pleasure in life, and she didn't think the trip sounded suited for a bunch of people drinking and being rowdy and burning bonfires on the beach).
Coyotes are bigger than I had thought. There was a dead animal on the road, which I thought sizable, but not as big as a wolf. I commiserated over the death of someone's dog when my husband said, that's not a dog, that's a coyote. I think my only exposure to coyotes is from a Walt Disney nature movie, "Chico the Misunderstood Coyote". I don't know why, maybe because he was always evading mounted cowboys with guns, I pictured coyotes smaller, like larger foxes.
Rachel, my daughter, and I drove through the Boulder area moving her to CA last May. We went on some gorgeous drives leaving town as we headed west. I am not certain but I think we headed out on 119, a beautiful winding road through a narrow river canyon, down to the main highway, then up 40 to continue through Utah. It was snowing up in the pass, it looked just like winter. Wow, it was a super pair of roads to drive on that day, with its dramatic, unsettled weather.
> she didn't think the trip sounded suited for a bunch of people drinking and being rowdy and burning bonfires on the beach
Er, yes. That would be a no. :) (If you could even find wood to burn; some of these islands are lava, which makes for hard beach sitting in any case)
I love this post because I love wildlife. I've had several close encounters with coyotes. I'm not frightened of them because they really don't attack people, although they'll eat your cat. I respect them because they are intimidatingly intelligent and often bold. They tend to be the size of a German Shepherd, but I've seen a lot of variation in coat color, density, and thickness.
There was one beautiful male who had almost a reddish-brown pelt with grey undertones. Stunning. He was king and knew he was king. He'd watch out for the pack (which I never saw, only heard, living along the draw there-- there must have been 30 coyotes by voice when the sirens got them going). Anyway, he was very wary, and I'd see him on my long bike rides, as the trail followed the creek there, but I couldn't get close.
One day as I rounded the corner I saw him off in the distance looking the other way-- he was watching a couple of horse riders. I got off my bike and stood there very still, pretending to be a tree. After the horses passed he turned and trotted the other way down the trail, on patrol, you know. Because I was still, he didn't notice me until he was about 10 feet away. Then he looked up-- our eyes met and he froze. I didn't move. You could see him trying to work it out: human shape, but doesn't move. He trotted around me, about 6 feet away, studying me-- then decided I was human after all, and ran off across the plain. Just beautiful.
This is a wonderful story, Mariole (I, too, am sorry to reply so late; what a few days it's been!). As wonderful as it is told, how much more wonderful it must have been to experience. "King of the Coyotes". No relation of "Chico the Misunderstood", I am betting. :)
Gosh, I don't know, Mariole. I saw "Chico the Misunderstood Coyote" back when we had only a black and white TV, before you were born. It was made to be shown on the Walt Disney TV show, so it was probably filmed in colour. I looked for an image from the film but couldn't find one.
Coyotes are bigger than I had thought. There was a dead animal on the road, which I thought sizable, but not as big as a wolf. I commiserated over the death of someone's dog when my husband said, that's not a dog, that's a coyote. I think my only exposure to coyotes is from a Walt Disney nature movie, "Chico the Misunderstood Coyote". I don't know why, maybe because he was always evading mounted cowboys with guns, I pictured coyotes smaller, like larger foxes.
Rachel, my daughter, and I drove through the Boulder area moving her to CA last May. We went on some gorgeous drives leaving town as we headed west. I am not certain but I think we headed out on 119, a beautiful winding road through a narrow river canyon, down to the main highway, then up 40 to continue through Utah. It was snowing up in the pass, it looked just like winter. Wow, it was a super pair of roads to drive on that day, with its dramatic, unsettled weather.
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Er, yes. That would be a no. :)
(If you could even find wood to burn; some of these islands are lava, which makes for hard beach sitting in any case)
I love this post because I love wildlife. I've had several close encounters with coyotes. I'm not frightened of them because they really don't attack people, although they'll eat your cat. I respect them because they are intimidatingly intelligent and often bold. They tend to be the size of a German Shepherd, but I've seen a lot of variation in coat color, density, and thickness.
There was one beautiful male who had almost a reddish-brown pelt with grey undertones. Stunning. He was king and knew he was king. He'd watch out for the pack (which I never saw, only heard, living along the draw there-- there must have been 30 coyotes by voice when the sirens got them going). Anyway, he was very wary, and I'd see him on my long bike rides, as the trail followed the creek there, but I couldn't get close.
One day as I rounded the corner I saw him off in the distance looking the other way-- he was watching a couple of horse riders. I got off my bike and stood there very still, pretending to be a tree. After the horses passed he turned and trotted the other way down the trail, on patrol, you know. Because I was still, he didn't notice me until he was about 10 feet away. Then he looked up-- our eyes met and he froze. I didn't move. You could see him trying to work it out: human shape, but doesn't move. He trotted around me, about 6 feet away, studying me-- then decided I was human after all, and ran off across the plain. Just beautiful.
I love these guys.
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Cheers.
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