Blue Lakes and Meander Meadow, page 4

Mica on the Indian Creek trail.

Monday, September 5, 1994. Labor Day.
5 PM, Indian Creek

I had hoped to lounge lazily this morning and read until 10 AM, but at 9:30 AM the Dog Bell went off. I stumbled out of the tent just in time to see a party of about six, mostly adults, walking past our campsite. The puppies marched right up, tails wagging, expecting to be petted and adored. They were somewhat astonished when an adult male started shouting at them to go away, then waved his hands and arms menacingly at them.

I looked at this idiot and said, “They just want to be petted.” The seedy-looking fellow and his adoring female companion glared at me without uttering a word. Soon, the whole parade toddled on by again, stopped in their epic journey by a mud puddle a few dozen feet up the trail. One guy was holding a golden lab by the scruff of the neck and explained, “We have a dog in our party who can get pretty excited.”

Soooo … THEIR dog is excitable but they threatened MY dogs? I just glared at him and didn’t say a word.

Hard to believe that we’re the dominant species, sin’t it? I thought about that a lot after we’d packed up and headed off on the day’s trek. What it we weren’t the top of the food chain? What sorts of thoughts and feelings of apprehension would I have while walking through these deep woods?

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