“When this old world starts getting me down… (“Up on the Roof” lyrics by Gerry Goffin)
I find a paradise up, up into the rarefied air where trees and Texans don’t dwell. It’s here where I’m offline avoiding the daily scourge of the Grifter/Corrupter/Shit-Stirrer in Chief’s latest assault on Democracy. Far away from Merica’s newest “Endless War” which never had the blessings of Congress nor the majority of Merican people.
But enough of that! Let’s tawk scenery! Let’s tawk Trail Angeling! But most of all LET’S TAWK PIKAS!
I know a place which has all three. So I point Sanctuary One skyward just past dawn on rough 4X4 roads before the annoying ATV/OHV crowd hits the dirt and dust. If all goes well, I’m at my destination in time to create a breakfast before the first Colorado Trail and Continental Divide Trail hikers amble by.
This year, my timing was spot on. Veggie and egg breakfast burrito ingested just before the first group of hungry hikers arrived.
“Hi! I’m Jeff. Wanna PB&Boysenberry sandwich?” Thats my ice breaker.
Before I knew it. I was BUSY! Whipping up five sandwiches untouched by human hands for the masses. Down they sat munching away while I blathered on about pikas, politics, history, unleashed dogs and various other issues I have strong opinions about. They were kind enough to laugh at my inane comments.
Eventually the hikers got the chance to speak. They were well educated, interesting and for the most part young. They gave me hope in these low points of UFC “manosphere” spectacles on the White House lawn. Which the late Senator John McCain referred to as “human cockfighting.”
(Can Merican values sink any lower than the Marianas Trench? Only time will tell but I believe with this current Bowel Movement. YES!)
So I thanked Danika, Goodwill, Mike, Emily and so many others for their graciousness in being respectful to an alter kaker. (Yiddish for curmudgeon).
BUT! Not all hikers are created equal. A mother and daughter pair from North Carolina came through. I handed the daughter two sandwiches. One for the her and one for the woman who went through child labor. Before I could say “gluttony” the daughter inhaled the calories while her Mom looked on in disbelief. Neither said thank you either. Parting with them was NOT sweet sorrow.
At this point I was ready for my primary reason to be there. (Besides the incredible hikes, serenity and views). It was HIGH time for Happy Hour with the pikas.
After grabbing my camp chair and a 9% 19.2 ounce DIPA, I chose a comfy spot on the edge of a BIGLY talus field. Then I followed Yogi Berra’s sage-like advice. “You can observe a lot by watching.” So that’s what I did for two incredibly enjoyable evenings.
This is what I discovered:
A) Pikas are nimble. I saw one Superpika leap a two foot gap from one pointy rock to another. He/she nailed the landing. No stumbles or wavers. I stood up and applauded.
B) Pikas are athletic. They are able to sprint uphill over uneven terrain at altitudes where water boils at 189 degrees F. I got winded just by watching.
C) Pikas are territorial. Sure there’s a lot of dramatic chase scenes between talus owners and trespassers. But never a Pika version of a UFC barbaric event. Take notice Imperialist Warmonger #47.
D) Juvenile pikas slither/skitter along while the grownups flat out run.
E) Pikas are capable of chillin’. I saw three evenly spaced pikas in a row merely hanging out on their pointy perches. The distance was approximately 30 feet between each neighbor and probably their territorial borderlines. Not a great distance but if you’re the size of a large Russet potato it must feel like Alaska.
F) Pikas are empathetic. The longer I sat, (My second IPA is a mere 7% 12 ounce variety) the closer my fur buddies would approach. Finally I had a close encounter of the fifth kind. Four furry paws upon my foot. This is the equivalent of a pika/human embrace. I guess after watching me relax and drink solo, the little fella reckoned. “This guy looks like he could use a hug.”
Is it any wonder I like pikas a lot more than many people? (Ignore my ugly toes.)
Curious people wonder how I can get the Pikas to come so close without feeding them. Answer: It’s the hat. They know I’m on the side of the underpika.
For further readings about my interspecies love affair with Ochotona princeps.
May the Powers of the Pika be with you
Jeff
PS. I’ve been off Facebook since January 2016 in a protest against the Tech Twerps. If you enjoyed this post, please feel free to pass it along.
As far as the manipulating media of what Facebook really is. I suggest reading “Clever People.” It’s an expose from a former insider of FB. Spoiler Alert! Zuckerberg really is a socially inept nerd.
Lastly! Here’s an innovative way for Mountain Studies Institute and the Pika Patrol folks to raise $ for pika research. From the New York Times.
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