While skiing on Sunday, Dad and I met up with a couple of other instructors and regulars while out on the trail Dudley Do-Right.
"Did you see The Porcupine Trail?" They asked.
"There's one up there and just down there."
We hadn't. We skied a bit down and stopped above one of those trails of anti-freeze that Snow Cats sometimes leave while grooming the trails late at night. Except, on closer inspection, this trail had quills. And bits of flesh.
This was where a porcupine, an animal with no natural predators on the mountain, had met its end in the steely crush of a rolling tread. Not unlike a tank tread. There were some skull fragments. There was a complete claw. Which, despite the best efforts of one of the guys, would not be stuck to a nearby light pole.
"Best groomed porcupine in all of Maine."
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