Adventure Dog

About as much adventure as you can have tethered to your mom, that is.

When preparing for our hiking trip in the White Mountains, we knew we needed to find a new solution to curb Carlito's wanderlust. The typical walking leash doesn't afford enough flexibility for us to safely hike. Even if we aren't using trekking poles, it is better to have both of our hands free. Another flaw of the hand held leash, is that one could easily be pulled off balance.

Once we figured out the best way to attach the bungee belt leash, this proved to be the way to go. At the sight of a squirrel or a rabbit, Carlito has been known to run off and not return. We've also learned that if both dogs are off leash during a hike, they become competitive and start racing each other to see who is the fastest. We then spend the entire hike yelling, "Stop!" and "Come!" while they race ahead out of sight and then finally race all the way back to us. Since losing Carlito or screaming at the dogs while they race provides an undesirable high stress edge to the nature walk, we were relieved to discover the bungee belt.

Outfitted with the bungee and his pack, Carlito was able to carry his own food as well as pack any trash out.

We knew that we would be crossing a number of streams and brooks, much to Teeca's delight and Carlito's displeasure. While Teeca joyfully bounded down the trail and jumped in the water for a swim, we had to plead and coax to get Carlito to enter the water and cross a stream. For more shallow crossings, this wasn't much of a problem, but he had to be almost forcefully pulled across deeper water. He was though, considerably more brave if he saw a clear path of rocks and could cross without having to get very wet. This was not always possible.

During our first hike, we entered a marshy area that was thick with mud. We learned to test the mud with our trekking poles when Jay turned a corner and his leg was submerged in the muck up to his knee. I quickly vowed to test each step to avoid being coated with the stinking, black goo. About two and a half miles before the hike's end, I was watching Carlito choose his path and took a bad step. Finding myself with one leg submerged to the knee, I quickly followed with the second leg. By cursing and pulling with my poles, I managed to remove myself from the mud pit, but not without coating the inside and outside of my shoes and socks. We were able to rinse off in a brook, but of course this only does so much good.

With our boots not entirely dry, we set out the second day for a hike with a higher elevation. At about 4,500 feet elevation and probably a half mile from the summit, the sky became ominously dark. Concerned about the impending weather, the waning hours of daylight, and the aggressive angle to which we would be descending, Jay had no sooner made his case for turning around when the rain began. As we began to descend, the rain gave way to storm and the sky was splintered with lightning. Thunder roared in our faces and we were slapped with hail. We decided to descend as quickly as possible, since there was very little cover at that elevation. Carlito, on the other hand, thought we should seek shelter immediately, and ducked under an evergreen tree. We kept moving.

After we made it down safely but drenched through and through, we changed clothes and piled into the car. I felt exhausted, and I was done with roughing it. We drove to a Mexican restaurant for hot food and beer.