Photo Credit: www.farm4.static.flickr.com
On Christmas Eve, I trained by hiking to Rose Peak on the Ohlone Wilderness Regional Trail, which is in its pristine prehistoric state, except for the occasional menacing gang of cows.
I suppose there is nothing to fear from a cow. That is easy to forget, however, when you’re on foot alone and haven’t seen another person in seven miles and you come across a herd of cows and their fuzzy little calves grazing square on your path.
They raised their great heads to stare at me, and I approached with a swagger that I hoped communicated, “I am on top of the food chain, and you are not.”
Inside I thought, three of these monsters weigh as much as the entire Chicago Bears offensive line. I hope they don’t think I am stalking their children, or realize that these shoes I am wearing are made from their cousin Ned.
Most times the cows trotted off. But this one time a bovine stood its ground, and it wasn’t until I was fifteen feet away that I realized it had horns. It also had an udder, which added confusion to my fear, as if I had run headlong into a 6’5” leather-wearing man in the Castro, only to look up and realize he was actually a she. Later, I learned, this horns-and-teats combo is just natural – cows are born with horns, just like bulls. But I didn’t know that yet. This sexually ambiguous cow stared dimly at me, and I back at it, until I turned and disappeared down the trail. I made it home for Christmas, alive and untrampled.
The Ohlone Wilderness at this time of year is a landscape of pale grays and greens: fields of fresh buds just starting to show through last summer’s blasted straw, and naked oaks the same color as the rocks – gray in the weak December light, with a coating of pale lichen. To the west a sharp-edged layer of fog blanketed San Francisco Bay, and from that direction a wind whispered, carrying the smell of cow pies.
Did I ever tell you about the time a cow chased me? I was hiking Tennessee Valley, when the cows ran free(a long time ago). I was merrily hiking with my boyfriend and all of a sudden he yelled, Bubbles run! I turned and faced a giant cow running full force at me. Several things ran through my mind in that second or two. One, why isn’t my boyfriend trying to save me? Two, how in the hell could he save me, this animal weighs a ton. Three, I can’t really out run this monster of an animal, he/she is much faster than I. Four, oh my god, my head is going to be smashed, it will be a bloody scene. Five, this thing is not going to change my life. I braced myself and pulled a football move and faked him/her out, you know, pretended I was veering to the right and then at the last minute lunged to the left. Cow slipped and decided not to pursue me any further. I slipped away with my boyfriend feeling quite mighty.