Mountains and Marmots
Irtaza Tahir, 2T2 WB
Backpacking in the Icefields Parkway, I was anticipating seeing a lot of wildlife and was particularly excited to see Caribou and Moose....maybe even a Bear if I was (un)lucky. Instead, I saw many Hoary Marmots. These shaggy rodents – easily the size of a cat – had no fear of the human invading their land as they sunbathed and grazed in alpine meadows. Really, they had little to fear. By my second day backpacking alone, it was a source of joy to see them or to hear their whistling, knowing that at least some living thing was nearby in what sometimes seemed like an otherwise desolate and lifeless landscape.
In some Indigenous world views, the Hoary Marmot is associated with preternatural beings whose whistling might beguile a lone human, calling him ever on until finally, he loses all track of time, space, and identity.1 While I can’t say their whistling beguiled me per-se, there were certainly periods where I lost track of space-time as I followed the sometimes-well-trodden and sometimes-unclear paths over several days.
How long has it been since I started walking?
Is that peak getting any closer? It looks equally as small and far away as an hour ago...Was it an hour ago?
Oh look, another Marmot.
Finally! I’m at the summit...wait, no, it’s a sub-peak…sigh…
Along with the Marmots, I saw Ground Squirrels (which drew undeniable comparisons to the meerkats from Lion King, standing attentively as if I were a predator about to hunt them...eww) and Pikas, the smallest (and cutest) member of the rabbit family, who make what can only be described as an “Eeep” sound, and who I am convinced are the inspiration for Pikachu.
1. Hunn E, Selam J. Nch’i-Wána, “The Big River”: Mid-Columbia Indians And Their Land. 1st ed. Seattle: University of Washington Press; 1990:142.
