Dashing out of the lakeside campground just after dawn, we
stopped in Moorcroft at a little hotel where Andre asked if we could cook
breakfast. We took advantage of the free wifi and had a lovely meal of fresh
fruit and oats, our usual, topped with a splash of maca, pine pollen, and roasted
dandelion root for that extra umph.
On our drive out of town, we stopped at a local market. I took this opportunity to peruse the
isles, oggling the eclectic selection of food and food-like products they
offered. I was most impressed by
sardines canned in pure maple syrup, an odd combination, sold as a breakfast
treat, as well as the wide selection of local products they carried. But, alas,
we’re foraging, so we moved on towards the Bighorn National Forest.
Tucked into a nice spot in West Tensleep campground,
elevation 9100 ft, we parked Butter for the next 3 days. There, we spent our days doing leisure
activities—processing the acorns we gathered back in Wisconsin, shelling and
soaking them in a nearby mountain stream, baking bread on the fire and cooking,
fishing, chatting up the forest ranger, reading, being creative, and hiking
around the beautiful lake and hillsides.
The days were fairly warm but the nights were very cold, freezing as a
matter of fact, and on our last morning it began to snow just as I pulled a
fresh loaf of bread off our breakfast fire. Butter had a little trouble starting up, but nothing
serious. We stopped for a short
hike, knowing we’d be car-bound for the next several hours. Gorgeous 6-pointed
snowflakes fell on the ground around us.
They landed on our shoulders and atop my hat, making me feel happy
enough not to notice my cold fingers.
We hiked along the creek, taking pictures, enamored with the snowflakes
and the quiet that winter brings to the forest, and to my mind. A quiet mind can hear the trees whisper
to each other. The imminent storm
filled me with excitement and, I’ll admit, a bit of fear. Butter doesn’t do so well in the
cold. She’s a California girl… We needed
to find some heat.
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