[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Humboldt-Toiyabe ((Nathan))
Mar 12, 2021 16:43:08 GMT -5
Post by Cassandra Cassidy on Mar 12, 2021 16:43:08 GMT -5
WEEK 3, DAY 6
Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forest, NV
---------------------------------------------------------
Lean mule deer grazed on the shrubby, patchwork green at the edge of a cluster of mountains. Ponderosa pines, some older than the century itself, stood in gaggles on the many slopes. Mountain brush gathered around them and under copses of oak and mahogany. Birds flocked to the watering holes and glacier-melt at the heart of these pockets of flora. Voices drifted in the distances, echoing up and down the mountains from the many trails. Hikers ascended and descended the many winding, manmade paths, some better-equipped than others.
It was a weekend, and the hot, sunny day had attracted families and loners alike to the Ruby Mountains. The odd jam of humans choked the trails, usually from tourists stopping en masse to take pictures. It was still early yet, and already the rangers were preparing for a busy day. The developed campgrounds were full of one-day users, the dispersed campgrounds seeing their own steady trickle of people. Several RVs had pulled into the area, some redirected to proper mobile camping areas. At least one wedding shoot was happening in front of a scenic mountain view, and a research team was collecting geological samples. There was a low hum of energy to the park, the rhythm of footsteps and the chatter of voices growing as morning went on.
Not everyone was content to stick to the trails and put up with this. Thought ill-advised by many, some adventurous souls went off-route to experience the wilds. Armed with map, compass and sometimes a GPS, some of these people didn't know what they were doing. Some might wander around for a bit, meditate, take pictures, gawk at the beauty and splendor of nature.... And then wonder which way the trail back was, or how far they were from it. These people might get picked up by rangers, or find their way back by dumb luck, or camp out and hope for the best. Some, if poor luck befell them, might not ever see civilization again.
For those that did know what they were doing, it was quite the opposite. Though called a National Forest, Humboldt-Toiyabe had brush, scrub forests, riparian woodlands, alpine tundra, and more. It had to be the most diverse spot in Nevada when it came to types of flora. Wildflower meadows swept across valley floors while lonely pines clung to rocky outcroppings. Scrubby, dry steppes contrasted with cirques holding bowl-like lakes, framed by snow-covered mountains. Mountain goats, stags and bighorns traversed its diverse cliffs, marmots peeking out from cracks and crevices in sun-bleached stone. It was a wonderful place to get away from the hustle and bustle of places like Las Vegas, which wished they could glitter as the sun on a glacial lake did.
Who might find themselves in such an idyllic wilderness on this bright, cloudless day?
Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forest, NV
---------------------------------------------------------
Lean mule deer grazed on the shrubby, patchwork green at the edge of a cluster of mountains. Ponderosa pines, some older than the century itself, stood in gaggles on the many slopes. Mountain brush gathered around them and under copses of oak and mahogany. Birds flocked to the watering holes and glacier-melt at the heart of these pockets of flora. Voices drifted in the distances, echoing up and down the mountains from the many trails. Hikers ascended and descended the many winding, manmade paths, some better-equipped than others.
It was a weekend, and the hot, sunny day had attracted families and loners alike to the Ruby Mountains. The odd jam of humans choked the trails, usually from tourists stopping en masse to take pictures. It was still early yet, and already the rangers were preparing for a busy day. The developed campgrounds were full of one-day users, the dispersed campgrounds seeing their own steady trickle of people. Several RVs had pulled into the area, some redirected to proper mobile camping areas. At least one wedding shoot was happening in front of a scenic mountain view, and a research team was collecting geological samples. There was a low hum of energy to the park, the rhythm of footsteps and the chatter of voices growing as morning went on.
Not everyone was content to stick to the trails and put up with this. Thought ill-advised by many, some adventurous souls went off-route to experience the wilds. Armed with map, compass and sometimes a GPS, some of these people didn't know what they were doing. Some might wander around for a bit, meditate, take pictures, gawk at the beauty and splendor of nature.... And then wonder which way the trail back was, or how far they were from it. These people might get picked up by rangers, or find their way back by dumb luck, or camp out and hope for the best. Some, if poor luck befell them, might not ever see civilization again.
For those that did know what they were doing, it was quite the opposite. Though called a National Forest, Humboldt-Toiyabe had brush, scrub forests, riparian woodlands, alpine tundra, and more. It had to be the most diverse spot in Nevada when it came to types of flora. Wildflower meadows swept across valley floors while lonely pines clung to rocky outcroppings. Scrubby, dry steppes contrasted with cirques holding bowl-like lakes, framed by snow-covered mountains. Mountain goats, stags and bighorns traversed its diverse cliffs, marmots peeking out from cracks and crevices in sun-bleached stone. It was a wonderful place to get away from the hustle and bustle of places like Las Vegas, which wished they could glitter as the sun on a glacial lake did.
Who might find themselves in such an idyllic wilderness on this bright, cloudless day?