I heard the howl of the pack and then the pack dashed to the north of me. I was transfixed by the leader. I immediately followed the pack with the hopes of getting a glimpse of the leader. I went north but turned west following tracks past an orange diamond. Next was the old gravel pit followed by another orange diamond and still nothing but tracks in the snow. I came to a junction of two trails. The pack had split up, some went over the bridges on the north but I followed the ones that went south. I know it sounds biased but there was one set of prints larger than the others and that wolf had taken the turn to the left.
The gentle hill to the south and the smooth surface of the cross country ski trail made the tracking easy. I followed the trail past a tree that was eating a blue skier when I heard the howl of the wolves. The tracks followed the trail around the side of the hill and as I spied the bench I glimpsed the leader through the trees. The Blue wolf was watching me. When our eyes met he turned and continued on the south leg. I wanted to get a shot but he was already gone over the hill. I chased after him but I lost them when the pack turned west at the sign of the blue skier. I caught one last look of the blue wolf as he and the pack headed straight west past the three-trunk tree not a hundred feet from the trail.
I had one last chance to get a shot but the camera lens was full of snow. He seemed to know because he stopped and turned around. His lip curled and he gave forth a howl that announced to the world the he was the alpha. And then he was gone. I made a mark on the three-trunk tree where I last saw him and started off in pursuit. Unfortunately for me, my adversary was much better suited for the winter conditions. The Blue Wolf and his pack led me on a merry chase through the brush until I reached a hill with four pine trees. There the wolves waited for me. I cleared the lens the best that I could and tried to get a picture but it was for naught. This time, they gave forth a howl and were gone. I heard them twice more before I reached the top of the hill. It was very apparent that they were done playing and had left.
I made a map of the trail that leads to the marker at the three-trunk tree. The marker points to the spot I last saw the leader of the pack with the hopes that someone will be fortunate enough to get a picture of the Blue Wolves of Spirit Mountain.
