Maybe it's a Wednesday thing, but it sure seems like the Universe is still testing my drawing resolve.
This morning I gathered up paper, pencils and paints and headed up Greens Creek to sketch. The DM and I hiked this lovely trail a bit on Sunday, it's one of my favorites.
The trailhead is less than 15 miles from home, up a dirt road in to the national forest. At 8:30 on a Wednesday morning after a holiday weekend, I figured things would be pretty quiet. Except maybe for bears. (We had one in town last night, a sure sign that they're stepping up their winter preparations.) There was one other vehicle in the parking area when I arrived... it all looked good. I hiked a little way up the trail and settled in to draw a ridiculously complex scene of a cascade in the creek. I was a little nervous that the creek was so loud I wouldn't be able to hear bears, but I really wanted to draw.
Maybe 30 minutes passed as I struggled to get in to the drawing "zone." The verdict was still out on my ability to salvage the marks made so far when suddenly I was overtaken, not by a bear or weed-whacking convicts, but by three wet dogs.
Most definitely I would not have heard a bear if I didn't hear three dogs splashing in the creek and the four or five people who were with them coming up the trail.
I was of course sitting precisely at dog level, so it was happy wet tails and muddy feet and slobbery muzzles and chaos... paintbox overturned, pencils flying... (sigh). The entourage apologized and assured me they wouldn't be back my way for a long time, but I never did reclaim my tenuous hold on the drawing and the location. I packed up and headed back down to the trailhead, where I perched alongside the road... in full view of anyone or anything that might wander by. More success there, but after an hour my growling stomach hauled me to my feet.
You know what this means, don't you? Uh huh. The Stubborn One goes out again tomorrow morning. Stay tuned for the further adventures of Whodathunkit. And no, I'm not selling the movie rights.