Call of the wild

An elk on the edge of the Banff golf course, waiting for the ladies to show up.

I was so sore this morning from yesterdays forced march up Sulphur Mountain that I stayed in bed and ordered room service. A pot of coffee, English muffin and some marmalade was all I wanted. I was sitting propped up in bed when I heard a long, trumpety sound out over the golf course. Like someone blowing through a ram’s horn. It was the exact same sound I’d heard over and over since about four this morning.

I couldn’t figure out what it was so after I’d finished my breakfast, I got dressed and walked behind the hotel to where I kept hearing the sound. When I got near the edge of the golf course, the mystery was solved; it was a rutting elk. A big guy, by the looks of him. He was standing in the middle of a brown fairway, his head lifted, calling out for all his girlfriends to come and join him for a little nooky. What a lucky fellow.