8:55 am - Shortly below the summit of Monroe, I pause to look back
at Washington. As I take some photos of the hut, I notice something moving.
A red fox is scurrying effortlessly up the trail, coming right at me.
Now I know who has been making all the tracks.
Casually approaching me within 10 feet, he immediately starts doing his
best to look cute. He stretches and squints into the rising sun, as if
to say: "Ain't this day a beauty?".
He even offers to strike a dramatic pose for me on a nearby outcrop if
I give him top billing in this little tale. I agree. Who can argue with
a cute fox?
However photogenic, his artful efforts to secure a snack from this fellow
hill tramper fail, and the fox trots off downslope.
my good side?