When I heard the rifle shot, I was a couple hundred yards off the Colby Canyon Trail, trying to find a way through some thick brush and across a ravine. I reacted to the shot before I heard it, an involuntary spasm of fight or flight snapping me to attention. The high-powered report filled the canyon, echoing off its walls and then continuing to ring for several seconds. Another echoing shot followed and then another.

As I worked back toward the trail, I starting searching for the source of the gunfire. About 100 yards up the canyon, wearing a bright orange vest, a hunter stood in the brush at the edge of the ravine. We waved, each surprised to see the other. Now I understood. Deer hunting season had opened.

A few minutes later more shots followed. What the heck was he shooting at? With the frequency of gunfire, any animal in the canyon would be ducking for cover.

That included me. It was time to give up on this adventure, run down to the trailhead, and go for Plan B.