#pend oreille

I took a short memorable hike a few years back, and somehow I still remember it like those years were merely days. Why? Because, like with so many other things, I have something to remember it by. This short sunset over the Pend Oreille River was compiled from an image sequence I decided to capture after a short mid-afternoon hike. Summer had dawned and I was going to get married a few weeks later, so I thought a short prayer hike was just what I needed to get my mind straight. I set the camera up on a heavy duty tripod to capture the moment. And a short hike it was. After what felt like an indulgence of reflecting, I packed up my gear and began the long trudge down the mountain. There was just one problem... it was a moonless night and I couldn’t see a darn thing without the sun. To boot, there wasn’t a trail to follow. I held my wide-beam flashlight in one hand and the other supported the 15lb tripod over my shoulder, mind you I had about 10lbs of gear in my day pack as well. As I descent down the last steep face leading to the base of the mountain, I cleaved through thick brush and, somehow, dropped my flashlight and it fell to pieces. I set down my tripod to try to put the torch back together. Batteries, lense, mirror—all there, but no bulb. No bulb, no light. Thankfully there wasn’t much further to go. I decided to press on without a light to guide me. I arrived at the base. That’s when things got weird. I froze in place as I heard a deep growl of something bedded down only about 5 feet from my left foot. Not like a dog or a cat, nor moose, or even a bear. Maybe a mountain lion? Whatever it was, it had sizable vocals and probably a mean bite. I stood there and the grunting continued. I wasn’t afraid though. I knew that, whatever it was, it was telling me to leave. I decided to give the creature its space. Without even looking in its direction, I just started walking straight ahead. It growled and gnashed, but I just kept walking.

Sandpoint, Idaho