Between a Hoof and a Hard Place

How a casual trail run flipped in the blink of an eye. 

Zipping my jacket to the chin stop, I stepped into the crisp morning air. Dawn skies promised eventual sun and a gorgeous day––perfect for a run up Sourdough. Trotting the nine miles up to Mystic Lake with my dog Cosmo is one of my favorite outings throughout summer and early fall, and I’ll typically do it every week. This particular morning, I fell into a rhythm where thoughts dropped away, leaving only the exquisite simplicity of breath: inhale, exhale.

Miles slid by. I barely registered the absence of the cow and calf moose I frequently saw in the meadow below the bridge. As the trail turned to climb toward Mystic Lake, my breathing grew deeper and called me back to my body. I noted the pair was not above the bridge, either. Inhale, exhale. I continued to climb, relishing the feeling of chilly skin, a warm core, and cool air in my lungs. One last steep push, then a corner, and I’d be descending to the southern tip of Mystic. Inhale, exhale. Nearing the top, several broken pine boughs lay in the path marking an obvious disturbance. What could it be? Suddenly Cosmo darted up the trail. I lifted my eyes from studying the branches and found myself staring at a cow moose. She was so close I could have counted nose hairs, and coming closer—fast.

I had rehearsed what I would do in a situation such as this. Routinely I put myself through hypothetical scenarios while running. What tree would I climb if something jumped out at me? What if it were a bear? I quizzed myself often enough that I was confident I could come up with a plan when the time came. Well that moment had come and now it was time to put my plan into action.

However, Get out of the way! was all I could come up with. The moose was about to run me over. In a hurried attempt to jump off the trail, my feet got tangled up in each other and down I went. As I hit the ground, the cow’s front hoof grazed my torso and landed between my arm and rib cage. I jumped up in time to see her lashing out at Cosmo, her hooves striking at the heels of my fleeing dog. They disappeared in tandem down the trail.

Next thing I knew, I was in a tree. A scrawny tree, definitely not the towering fir I imagined in my plan. I’m not sure how I got there. Its skinny branches started well over my head and there weren’t that many of them. I’m not a great tree-climber; nonetheless, there I was, 10 feet up with my limbs wrapped around the trunk like a frightened toddler clinging to a parent’s leg.

Now what? I was terrified to descend. I figured my dog was gone for good, but after what seemed like an eternity, Cosmo reappeared on the trail, proceeding cautiously but unscathed. I scooted down the tree and gave her some love pats, happy to be reunited.

We continued to the lake with senses on high alert. After a lengthy break at the dam, I nervously retraced our steps. Mama moose had ripped my favorite running shirt and given me a heck of a bruise, but I was thrilled to make it back to the trailhead otherwise intact and of course with a wild story to share.