Gnu, I met a particularly unlucky Canada Jay while out climbing in the North Cascades. We were on our way out of an attempt to climb Jumbo peak up near Darrington, one of our earliest climbs of the season when there was still lots of snow on the ground. We had been weathered off the mountain, rain below, whiteout above, so were slogging back through a wooded drainage that we had to traverse to get to the chute and ridge that we intended to follow. You had to be careful about walking too close to the trees because there was a soft well of snow around each tree and you could sink into it.

There were probably fewer than 10 of us, all old friends who had climbed together for a couple of years. I was the only woman on the climb, so it was incumbent on me to get far enough away from the group to find privacy for "party breaks." With no leaves on the trees yet and mostly conifers, I was probably 20 or 30 yards away from the group when I stopped. I don't know if I'd been paying attention to the Canada Jays until then, but when I unpacked some gear to change socks, get out a snack, and then use non-existent facilities, a bird started hopping around my pack. It was cute.

I was a younger woman then, and it was that time of the month. I was making the change out of tampons and had dropped the one to be wrapped and carried out on the snow in front of me when damned if this cocky little bird doesn't swoop by, grab it by the bloody string, and fly straight through the trees and over the heads of the rest of my party. That was a real "Oh, shit!" moment.

I walked back to the group and asked if they'd seen anything unusual, but none had. Obviously not bird watchers, or they'd have been astonished.

I can only begin the imagine the disappointment that poor bird suffered when it started investigating it's find.

SRS