Bleached bones of Lodgepole and Ponderosa pines litter the forest floor as I work my way up a Snow Creek trail in search of a better fishing spot. The farther upstream I get, the more impossible it becomes to access Snow Creek.
The trail, in the Snow Creek flood plain, nears the water - but the debris gets thicker.
A doe, which I had spotted with a fawn a few minutes earlier, stashes the calf and - literally - stalks me along this trail.
The trail through the deadwood, timber litter, and dead-fall.
She would run parallel to my progress on the trail, then cut in to stare me down. I was worried I might be getting near where she had stashed her fawn. All I had for protection was a 9-ft 4-wt Sage fly rod and two cameras. But I had my police whistle ready, too!
It was a bizarre scene. I could not get to the creek, and my stalker was getting closer.
Then the trail ended, in a pile of timber litter and dead-fall; deadwood. I turned and headed back to the Snow Creek guard station. Quickly.
Spooked by my stalker (she was right there, 30 yards away), I came across this strange sawyers' totem in the forest.
I make my way to the other side of the totem, thankful it is way too cold for rattlers, and find a splash of color. The deer watches all of this.
I finally emerged from the forest trail at the guard station compound, and there she was by the old abandoned outhouse. Staring at me. She watched me go to the bunkhouse, then deer-leaped off to her bambino.