Jackie arrived at my house a little after 9, her boundless
energy matched only by that of Jessie, the yellow lab whose head was hanging
out the back window. My hope that Jessie
would have tired himself out by the time we reached the trail head was in vain;
it seemed the car ride was just a warm up.
From the onset of the hike up Sterling Pass trail, Jessie ran ahead and
then back and then ahead and then back, scouting for potential dangers and then
returning to report his findings. Bella
the black lab had little interest in keeping up with Jessie. Her greying muzzle, calm manner and robotic,
deliberate movements betrayed her age. She
tolerated the yellow lab, but saw no need to prove herself by matching his high
energy and instead watched Jessie as he ran back and forth. She was George to Jessie’s Lenny.
As we made our way along the trail I stayed back a bit so
that the surrounding scenery could saturate all of my senses without the threat
of me being knocked over by a 75 pound furry, slobbering weapon. Sterling Pass trail climbs 1100 feet in one
and a half miles up through a wide valley.
Tall spires point sharply at the blue sky, their charred husks a stark
contrast against the red rock walls, lush green vegetation and white, red,
purple, yellow and orange flowers that have conquered the valley bottom. These sentries are the skeletons of what once
were full crowned Ponderosa pines, and while a long ago fire stripped these
great trees of their leaves and branches, their majesty remains as they tower
over the new generation of shrubs and forbs which have taken advantage of the
fire scarred land. It is spring time and
the flowers are in bloom offering sweet smells as I walked along the trail,
this combined with the fluttering song birds, abundant and vocal, made me feel
as if I was in the jungles of South America, not a semi-desert in Arizona.
The sun which in part gives life to the valley bottom was
beating down on me as I followed Jackie, Jessie and Bella up the trail. Despite constantly drinking water and finding
respite from the heat in the shade rorschachly blotted along the trail, I felt
the migraine coming on. It was well
established when I finally reached the summit of Sterling Pass. The dogs had already found their resting
spots, but Jackie was prepared to keep moving.
I quickly picked a side in this argument and slumped down next to the
panting dogs.
After a too short break we started back down the trail
towards the car. Jessie led the way,
leaving barking dogs and irritated hikers in his wake while Bella respectfully
traversed the trail. I fell behind as
both the sun’s heat and my migraine intensified. The feeling that a red hot poker was being
forced through my skull created a pain which distracted me from the scenery
that had captured my full attention just an hour earlier. My concentration was now put towards stepping
one foot in front of the other to get down the trail as soon as possible before
the full onset of the migraine could take place.
It was at this time, close to the end of the trail, that I
came upon Jessie raucously scrounging through the underbrush, no Jackie or
Bella in sight. It took a moment to
process the scene I had walked up on. Birds
flew out of the brush chirping wildly, but Jessie didn’t pay them any
attention, he was still rummaging through the low lying shrubs, there was still
a bird left behind. I yelled for Jessie
to stop, my voice high pitched with panic, my migraine instantly gone. But Jessie ignored me and as he buried his
muzzle into the brush and quickly flung his head back I realized I was too
late. The fledgling bird was flung to
the trail dying as Jessie quickly lost interest in his new toy and ran to catch
up with his mom. I approached the bird
hoping that my being there would somehow reverse the fledgling’s fate. The deep red blood that now escaped from the
puncture left by Jessie’s incisor was a stark contrast to the graphite grey
feathers which had failed to help the young bird escape. Its
yellow beak opened and closed as if it was calling for its mother or gasping for
breath, in, out, out. It stretched out one
of its legs, slowly grasping at the air, trying to hold on to something,
anything. All the while the mother bird sat on a nearby
branch helplessly calling out. There was
nothing to be done and as I raised my head I saw Jackie standing next to
Jessie, he was scolded, but didn’t seem to notice. They started back down the trail. I stood up and began to follow them but
turned around; I couldn’t leave the birds’ body in the middle of the trail. Using two sticks I gently lifted then lowered
the limp body from the trail into the brush, the mother bird watching over us,
still chirping.
I again started down the trail, my migraine had returned to
its full glory. This was not my plan.
