Idle Minutes

Back at the end of August we went to Seattle on a short vacation. We took a hike at Mt. Ranier with some friends.

For twelve years or so, we’ve traveled to various National Parks. At some point along the way, reading about local wildlife in one of the parks, I learned of the Hoary Marmot. At once I was hooked. I had to see a Hoary Marmot for myself. Any animal that had been deemed “Hoary” deserved attention it seemed.

Turns out the little stinkers are not that easy to come across. At least not for me. It wasn’t until this trip to Ranier that I finally saw one. Frankly, I had written them off to legend, never expecting to see one.

I asked our friends on the ride up to Ranier, “Do they have the illusive Hoary Marmot up here?” I got laughs instead of an answer. “No, I’m serious! There is a Hoary Marmot and they live in high mountainous regions.” I said. More chuckles…no answers…change of subject.

Well, we arrived at the visitors center and what to my wandering eyes appear? A stuffed Hoary Marmot with claims that they lived near!

We set out on a hike of no particular intention or direction. We were just having fun and cutting up. Then, out of nowhere, one of our party shouted “Look! Looky! What’s that?!” I looked in the direction she was pointing and there it was…in the distance…in a barren, pebbly field of brown dirt, with grass clumps scattered about…The Illusive Hoary Marmot.

At last, after ten long years, the quest had ended.

Cute little dickens ain’t he? He (or she, who the heck could tell) was about the size of a badger or beaver with a nice reddish brown top on his tail. He came out of his burrow to snack on some grass. Not much of it around. I’d have to hope he had something else stored away in that burrow to eat because the grass pickin’s were slim. Maybe all the grass was in the burrow? (Very scientific aren’t I? We quest minded people are like that.)

Anyway, I had time to get a few pictures with the digicam. Tonight I decided to sketch him up and post the story. I won’t win a nobel prize for my efforts. I won’t have the fame of Teddy Roosevelt returning from safari in far off lands. There will be no movie. No book. No place for my name in the annals of biological history.

In fact, when I eagerly told a passing Park Ranger that I had seen a Hoary Marmot, he replied, “Yeah, they’re real friendly. They come right up to your feet. They’re all over the place up here. Hard not to see one.”

Party Pooper…
QUEST KILLER!

I thought that Hoary Marmot looked at me like I was nuts. Hoppin’ around and pointing like that. I probably scared the hell out of him so he just kept his distance. One eye on the grass, one eye on me, one foot in the burrow…