Category: russell

It’s been brought to my attention that someone has been sending ninja cockroaches after me in a failed attempt at kidnap. Security on the premises has been redoubled, but if I go missing… then you know the worst may have happened.

The trip began… I whiled my time away in the departure lounges dreaming of all the other mooses I would meet in Canada

Once we arrived in Vancouver, we picked up the rental car.

I spent some time frolicking in a daisy field, unsuccessfully hunting for lady mooses.

After my unsuccessful hunt for other mooses in the daisy field, I consoled myself with some slab climbing, at Shannon Falls, Squamish.

Followed up with some crack climbing – I’d never tried it before, but this jamming business seems to really suit my physique – maybe I’ll become a crack climber? Anyway, this is me on Klahanie Crack (5.7).

On our way back down again, we stopped at Shannon Falls.

Well, as the Squamish area seemed to have no mooses at all, we tried heading over to the other side of BC. We got as far as Lake Skaha anyway. Here I’m scanning the horizon – it doesn’t look like moose country, but you never know.

Having failed to find mooses at Lake Skaha, we’re running out of time. I’m becoming desperate about my hopes of ever meeting another moose. We drive back through BC to Squamish, taking a scenic route, incorporating many picturesque rivers. Still no other mooses.

Our last evening in Canada, I sit on top of the Chief and contemplate life. Will I ever meet any other mooses? Am I the only one?

They went out deep water soloing at Summersville without me. Of course. Took me to Hawkes Nest Dam where it was horrible and hot. But I did get to play with that young lad Vegas.

This is me, lurking on top of the Lion’s Head, in Dolly Sods Wilderness, West Virginia.

More lurking on rocky outcrops. The closest I got to peak bagging this weekend.

Russell the Moose scanned the terrain around him. Gorgeous weather at the moment, the sun was shining, and the blue sky was almost cloud free. But he was experienced in the ways of the mountain. He knew the storms could roll in at any moment – here was no place to rest. He continued plodding across the snow, keeping an eye out for hidden crevasses (this was of course, difficult, as they were hidden – he was doing his best). His glance wandered down to the modified crampons strapped to his hooves – they were holding up fairly well. As he settled back into a rhythym again, his mind wandered to what was for dinner tonight. Lobster. A glance over his left shoulder showed that the lobster was still in place, splashing about in a water filled saddle bag. It would make a delicious meal for a hungry alpine moose.