The terrain changed drastically as we traveled highway 40, on route to Flagstaff. Prickly pear cactus and creosote bush diminished as evergreens and high desert ferns replaced our environs. Joey slept soundly, as I reflected how the landscape reminded me of the upper Adirondacks. Suddenly, my daydream was interrupted by a large animal standing in the center of the road. Joey awoke from his slumber and braced his hands on the dashboard anticipating a crash. I served to the right and slammed on the brakes.
In the center of the highway stood a moose. It must have measured six feet from hove to snout and a rack of antlers crowned its head, adding another three or four feet to its total height. Its gaze was defined with consternation, as if to say, what the hell are you doing in my neighborhood.
"Man, that is one large moose. Look at the size of him! I exclaimed.
Joey chuckled indignantly. Thats an elk, Lukas. Shiras Moose dont graze this far south!