Old Fall River Road Opening Day
Opening Day on Old Fall River Road
The first time I drove up Old Fall River Road, years ago as a young photographer seeking adventure, I was both thrilled and intimidated. The rock overhangs looked ominous, the switchbacks menacing, and the dropoffs dangerously forbidding. Yet it was so beautiful, incredibly beautiful.
Today, with
RMNPhotographer Tours I drive it nearly every day, and its beauty continues to capture my sense of adventure. So much so, on the day early in July when Old Fall River Road opens, I try to be one of the first to drive up. One year, I was the second vehicle when the ranger opened the gate. My quest to be #1 continues.
On Saturday, July 3, 2021, I was at the gate before sunrise, driving up with anticipation. With the absence of cars since the previous October, would there be animals wandering about? Would I see bighorn sheep on the opposite cliff side, elk in the valley willows, a bear lumbering over the rocks, or a moose in Willow Park?
I drove excited, watching through the trees. On an early switchback, I saw the sun peek over the foothills from the prairie miles to the east. For a moment, I stopped in the middle of the road watching, thankful for the sunrise experience. Content, I drove on pulling into the Chasm Falls parking area. There, I walked the tricky steps down to the base of the falls. On the platform, I stood and listened to the wonderful sound of tumbling water in a beautiful moment of solitude. I was alone and at peace in the mountains.
Climbing back up, I continued on toward Willow Park. There, I parked my SUV on the side of the road and began the easy walk back to the ranger cabin. I was surrounded by quiet and comforted by the silence. Alone in this special place, as I neared the cabin I stepped to where the trees opened to the meadow.
Curled Up in Sleep was a Large Bull Moose
Startled, my eyes popped, and I jumped back frightened. A few feet to my left, lying on the ground curled up in sleep was a large bull moose, its velvet antlers not yet fully grown yet still intimidating. When I jumped, he woke, his head coming up surprised by my presence.
Freezing, I did not move. I had already disturbed him, and I did not want to be a threat. As he watched me, I slowly backed away down the trail toward Old Fall River Road. As I did, he calmly looked about. Much to my relief, he lowered his head once more to sleep.
With the bull moose sleeping, I worked my way up on the hillside through the trees to a point where my camera could see him, yet I was not a threat. There I sat on a log and watched him sleep, every now and then pressing the shutter button of my camera to capture the moment.
In time, the sun crested the mountain. Shining on the bull moose, he warmed and slowly began to wake again. First, his head lifted, and he looked about, his nose in the air. Then his body straightened from the curl he’d slept in. His back legs pushed upward, his front knees pushed on the ground under him until he lifted to stand.
Like I would do, he arched his back stretching, leaned over his front legs extending his back. And as if in a shiver, he shook. Standing still for a moment, he turned his head side to side as if cracking his neck. Finally, lifting his back leg, his head turned toward his backside, and his antler went under the leg to scratch his belly. I thought of my own waking routine.
Once awake, he looked up at me. It was not a “good morning” welcome as much as a bold moose telling me he knew I was there, and I was not to bother him before breakfast. Then he turned and moved gangly into the willows where he began to nibble on the green willow leaves.
As he wandered into Willow Park, I moved down to the cabin sitting on the steps. From there I took pictures. Other people were now walking in from Old Fall River Road, and I would halt them with a raised hand. Then in a quieting motion, I would point toward the willows. That is when they would start, just a bit, rising up on their toes when they saw the magnificent bull moose.
Over the next half hour, he fed as he slowly moved across Willow Park. Once on the other side, as wildlife will do, he magically disappeared into the trees.
Moments later when I returned to my car, thrilled with the experience, I thought of the bull moose. The way he had awakened from his sleep much as I might, his stretching and neck turning, his body shaking in a shiver as the sun warmed him.
The moose, I knew, had awakened from a good night’s sleep in the quiet of Willow Park along Old Fall River Road and was looking forward to the day ahead.
