Sometimes They Don't Listen...

I am constantly amazed at the genius of my dogs. They know what you want before you know you want it...and yet, sometimes they don't listen.
Training failures happen. Last week we had an epic failure. Bill and I were both pretty tired after training 6 days in a row; the early mornings can take a toll after a little while. The dogs did not seem to be as affected. In fact, they may have been even more enthusiastic about the run. To begin, the ATV wouldn't start. It does this every now and then just to be mean. Bill decided to jump it, so while he was doing that, I began harnessing dogs. I got through 3 dogs before we realized the ATV really wouldn't start. After ten minutes of fiddling with wires and the deafening roar of dogs telling us to hurry up, we got it started. Then, we had to move around several females because they were all ornery and didn't want to deal with the males.
Finally, I thought we were ready to go. Right as I was about to unhook the leaders, I saw a reflective harness race past me. One of the dogs was loose. Shit. This had never happened to me before, so I panicked and ran after the loose dog. Bad idea. The rest of the team saw me running and followed. Unfortunately for the leaders, who were tied up and couldn't go anywhere, the middle of the team ran right into them. Meanwhile, Bill couldn't see any of this in the pitch black; all he knew was that I ran out of view and the dogs jerked the ATV, with him on it, into a tree and down the ditch.

Rincon, Hudson, Lynx, and Attla

I couldn't find the missing dog, so I ran back up the hill to help untangle the team. There were growls, yelps, and a few sighs, but we got them untangled. They were more than anxious to get going, so Bill took off on the run. As he ran by, I did a quick count of the dogs and saw that Spirit was the one missing. I instantly had horrific visions of Spirit running into the wilderness and meeting a mountain lion or Spirit running out into the road in the path of a car. I knew that Bill would see her on the road if that's were she went, so I settled for searching around the kennel. Two seconds later, I saw her. She was sitting on top of her house, wagging her tail, with her harness still on. Turns out, she chewed through her neck line and snapped her tug line. Jerk.

Jumper and Alameda

After that fiasco, I was exhausted, both physically and mentally. Training is not always smooth. It can be scary, maddening, and painful. I have been bumped, bruised, knocked over, tangled, worried, and frustrated. It doesn't matter though, because ten minutes later those dogs come rolling through with goofy grins on their faces and I know everything is alright. As long as I'm still standing and they're still running, everything is alright.    

In the Company of Friends

Excellent week! There's nothing better than beautiful scenery, a few dogs, and some great beer. I give full credit to the excellence to two of my best friends, Kate and Ben. They arrived last Wednesday and spent a few days in Boulder before I could drive over and meet them. From that point on, I don't believe I stopped smiling.
Boulder is a very cool city. It has certainly gotten a lot larger in the past decade, but it still has a nice small city feel to it. Pearl Street does remind me of Church Street in Vermont, it's just bigger. We walked around Pearl Street for a few hours, got some coffee, caught up, then moved on to Glenwood Springs.
It didn't take long before we got out to the dog yard. Kate and Ben are both big fans of dogs and my dogs are pretty big fans of anyone petting them. It's always so much fun introducing new people to the dog yard. People are either surprised at what incredible athletes they are, or they're surprised at how loving they all are. I say that these dogs are always up for some kisses and love, unless they have a harness on, then all they want to do is get to work.

Kate and Ben with Maverick and Pinks

As usual, I reveled in the opportunity to show off my dogs and my town. We went for a hike up Mushroom Rock with Maverick. The red dirt is so different from the landscape of Vermont; I had to bring a biology major up there. After the hike, Ben gave Kate and I some girl time. We went to the spa and vapor caves where we had a very giggly body wrap. It was my first time going into the vapor caves and I think it'll have to become a regular occurrence. They are natural caves within the canyon that steam up just like a sauna. A staircase leads underground, where the humidity instantly rises and the steam hits you like a wave. The caves are dark, quiet, and perfect for a little relaxation.
The following day, I drove them to Denver via the Scenic Byway: Top of the Rockies. We went up over Independence Pass (obviously a favorite of mine) and north to Leadville. Stopping for a picnic lunch of cheese, fruit, and bread in the famous mining town of Leadville, it became the perfect day. But wait, it gets better.

When we got to Denver, we went on a Brew Tour. The tour takes participants to four breweries within downtown Denver. Along the way, we get a walking history of the town and several tastings. This tour was certainly generous in its portions of beer, but none of us were complaining. Colorado is very invested in microbreweries and coming from Vermont, I can appreciate that. We went to Breckenridge Brewery, Falling Rock Brewery, Wynkoop Brewery, and Rock Bottom Brewery. By the end, we were falling out of our chairs laughing; that could have been because of the company more so than the beer. I highly recommend taking the tour, you'll get some good stories and some excellent beer.

I can only hope that future visits will go so well. I have missed my friends from the east coast tremendously and I cannot wait to have them all visit. There's so much to do here, something to appeal to everyone. I promise that if you come visit, we'll have a good time. 

What's in a Name?

I have always believed that naming a dog is extremely personal. There are certain character traits and behaviors that you can only appreciate when you know the dog well. If you pick out a name without really knowing the dog, it can be awful. For instance, there is a tiny terrier at the boarding kennel named Coco Chanel. Now, Coco Chanel has a diamond studded collar and starts to whine if she is not being held every second of every day. This name fits her. That name would absolutely not fit her if she was a sled dog. The other sled dogs would laugh at her and never take her seriously. For a sled dog, you need a name that is strong and easy to say. A name that will strike fear in other racers; not a name like Tiffany, please.

Kayenta: Kayenta, Arizona

Feel free not to read all of these names, but the dogs at the kennel are as follows: Maverick, Pinks, Kramer, Dylan, Qjoa, Sculpin, Sarah, Chena, Alameda, Jumper, Colfax, Fury, Ahab, Niva, Whitey, Big Brown, Chilcoot, Pismo, Russet, Kiana, Juno, Safina, Daikon, Spur, Spirit, Sasha, Luma, Kobuk, Osiris, Kayenta, Zion, Attla, Rincon, Hudson, Spit, Oly, and Lynx.
A few of the dogs were bought later in their lives, so the names just stuck, like Sarah and Dylan. Most of the dogs, however, were bred and named by Bill. Sometimes a litter will have a theme to their names, other times it's just a name that fits. Rincon, Hudson, and Lynx are all brothers and their names fit like a glove. Oly was the only one in his litter, so Bill took the 'n' out of 'only' and voila. Sculpin is a type of trout found in Alaska. Kobuk is a river up by Fairbanks. Spit, Spur, Zion, and Kayenta are all siblings. They were born right after Bill and Jodi took a trip to Zion National Park, so all of their names have meaning within the park. I could go on and on...

Niva: The Latin word for "snow"

All of the dogs have something to link them with their name. They work and the dogs respond to them; they know their names, they love to hear them. Even the other dogs know each others names. If you call a dog's name on the line, their running partner will look back too. The dogs know who you're talking to and they want to know why.
I've started compiling a list of interesting names, including places and geographical phenomena. I'll never know exactly what to name a dog until I get to know them, but I want to have a few favorites in the back of my head for when the time is right. 

Osiris: Egyptian God of the Underworld

Merry Strawmus!

Merry Strawmus everyone! The holiday season has come early! The dogs got straw in their houses and they are happy!
The first snow hit a few days ago and with it, the cold. That means that the dogs get a little extra insulation in their houses. Bill said that they would be excited to see the hay, but I had no idea what I was in for.
First, a layer of wood chips is put on the bottom of their barrels. This helps to soak up any moisture and it gives the straw something to stick to. The dogs acted differently to the wood. The veterans gave it a quick sniff and then turned away. The puppies, however, thought it was the coolest toy I could have ever given them. They each picked out their own personal piece and started trotting it around. I think they were having a competition to see who had the biggest piece of wood. They played fetch with pieces of wood and threw them up in the air triumphantly. If I thought the puppies were adorable with the wood, it got even better with the straw.

The oldest dogs turned into puppies. Maverick was the first to get new bedding; he sat anxiously by me as I arranged the straw in his house. His front paws stomped up and down as he waited impatiently. As soon as I stepped back, he moved into the house, quickly rearranging. He stretched out in the straw, molding it to his body, and pawing it around as needed. When it was just right, he laid down and stuck his head happily at my feet.
A few dogs later, I arrived at Fury. Being the smallest and cutest dog, I had to give her extra straw. She continued to pick straw up in her mouth and shake it with a fury befitting her name. Her house now has a beautiful entrance way covered in straw.
The puppies were the most fun, however. They thought the straw was interesting, but they thought that having me on my knees with my head poking into their house was even better. Every single one of them jumped on top of their house and attacked my hair and neck with some puppy love. Niva even managed to jump onto my back and stand there as I tried to make her a comfortable bed. As ever, I love those puppies.
Over the next few weeks, I'll add in more straw as it inevitably gets dragged out and squashed down. The veterans will paw at it until it's perfect, while the younger dogs will have a straw party. Every time, I am going to fall over laughing at the little present I can give them.

Dad Visits!

Finally! I got to show off Colorado to my dad! He was able to fly in for two days and we took full advantage of his time here.
On his first day, Colorado decided to downpour. It never rains in the morning here. Usually, we'll get a storm in the afternoon for about ten minutes, but that is about the extent of our precipitation. Nevertheless, it was raining and hard. Since he arrived in the dark, there was no chance to see the view from my house and the rain didn't help the next morning. With that disappointment, we decided to go explore town anyway. We drove through Glenwood Springs and Glenwood Canyon. I showed him my usual spots and we did a few errands before heading into Carbondale. A small, hippy little town, Carbondale has become a favorite of mine. With the rain giving a brief interlude, we walked around the towna nd stopped in some galleries. At the Forest Rangers Station, we got the suggestion to go check out the towns of Redstone and Marble. They're only about 20 miles outside of Carbondale through canyons and rugged valleys.
After about 10 minutes of driving and a steady climb into the mountains, we hit snow. It came fast through the canyon, the wind throwing it against the trees. All of a sudden, Colorado went from a warm, peaceful fall to a pounding winter. I loved it. As we climbed higher, the snow began sticking to the ground and the Aspens. When the sun finally popped out, it was breathtaking. Everything was dusted in the sparkling snowflakes. The golden foliage was especially bright against the white. After that storm, our only option was to go home and have some wine and cheese on the front porch. Dad took me out to the nicest restaurant in town and then we passed out to save up energy for training the next morning.
We certainly needed that energy. When I walked out of the house, everything sparkled. My headlamp waved over frozen branches and fluffy dogs. Even better, all of the lines and clips were frozen solid. I cannot say we impressed dad with our efficient harnessing yesterday. The dogs were over exuberant from the first snow, so they were struggling against us; the clips had to be warmed up before we could attach the harnesses; and the ATV wouldn't start from the sudden temperature plummet. We did not look good. Nevertheless, when we did get the dogs out running, we went ten miles, faster than we ever have before. They were flying in the cold. I swear the dogs smiled when they saw their breathe in the air.

Snow at the kennel!

After training, we took another long drive. This time up into Independence Pass. At 12,095 feet, the pass got hit hard with half a foot of snow. It was beautiful as ever and really fun to drive. After the pass, we went into Aspen where we paid an outrageous amount for coffee and looked in the windows of really expensive stores. Wanting to spend more time exploring, we drove out to the Maroon Bells. I had no idea these mountains were so close to me, so I was excited to go check them out. They are the iconic image of Colorado. Any postcards or tourist info have a picture of these peaks. They are dramatic, rugged mountains in a quiet valley. The whole area is protected with great hiking trails, so it's an excellent destination. We ended up going for a 3.6 mile hike to a lake at the base of the mountains. I did my ultimate no-no and hiked in jeans, but sometimes you have to make sacrifices for a little fun. The snow got slippery and deep near the end, but I managed to drag my poor dad all the way up.

The Maroon Bells

I love the excuse a visitor gives me to explore. Being with my dad allowed me to show off the things I was most proud of and the things I'd really been wanting to see. Glenwood Springs has been voted America's #1 Fun Town, so there's always a lot to do. I just need more excuses to show it off! 

Critter Surge

When I was dogsledding this past winter through St. Mike's Wilderness Program, the mushers talked about something called a "critter surge". When their dogs spotted a rabbit or deer, they would get a burst of energy and rush after it. This usually left the musher dragging as they stomped on the brake and would result in a massive tangle of lines. They spoke of this with dread, but also as a fact of life. They have not met my dogs.
These sled dogs laugh in the face of rabbits; they turn their heads at the sight of deer. Anything that gets in their way of a good run is unnecessary and meaningless. Almost every morning, without fail, a little rabbit will hop into our path as we ride down the driveway. The dogs do not break stride or even sniff in its direction. There is no time for rabbits when one could be pulling an ATV!
Yesterday morning, three deer ran right in front of us. Two doe and a massive stag, who paused briefly to stare at the dogs. There was no barking, no change of speed, just the leaders pulling straight ahead. I was amazed at their lack of interest. I've never known a dog to just ignore a perfectly tasty looking deer. With Lynx and Attla leading the way, however, everyone else just wanted to run. These dogs mean business.

There is one exception to this rule: Moose. Dogs do not like moose. Big moose, little moose, albino moose, dead moose. The long-legged, big-antlered beasts do something to incite wrath in all dogs. I can attest to this, as even my childhood dog seemed to have something against the animals. Daisy was a fat little mutt, whose many talents included pissing my father off and eating astronomical amounts. One day, my brother and I were sitting in our basement room, when a huge flash of brown zipped past the window followed by a much smaller flash.We looked out and saw Daisy nipping at the heels of a bull moose. The gumption this dog must have had to take on an animal 20 times her size. She chased that thing all the way down the driveway and out of sight. A few moments later, she came tearing back up the driveway with ears flying as she frantically looked over her shoulder. The moose must have realized the idiocy of this little dog and turned on her. I have no doubt that Daisy would have chased another moose if the opportunity arose.
If your leaders are really good, they can keep the rest of the team away from moose. Bill says that in a race,  they'll usually just speed up on the trail. Maybe it's the scent or maybe it's just because they're so huge, but something about moose gets the dogs excited. Everything else barely registers in comparison to their need to run.

Sopris

Mount Sopris: elevation- 12,950 feet...terrain-scree fields...weather-hail...Fun!

View of Sopris from the trail to Thomas Lakes

 
This past weekend I hiked Mount Sopris with my friend, Laura. I wake up every morning with a view of the mountain and ever since arriving in Colorado, I swore I would hike it. Since the cold is fast approaching, this past weekend seemed like the best option. We could not have had better timing. All of the Aspens are painted gold, the temperature for hiking is perfect, and the sun is still shining every day.
We headed out late Friday afternoon. It's possible to summit in one day, but you have to start ridiculously early to get to the top before noon; otherwise, there's a good chance you'll get stuck in a storm in the afternoon. Therefore, Laura and I decided to camp out for the night at Thomas Lakes. The hike in was uneventful; the majority of our time was spent adjusting our packs. The last time we had been backpacking together was when we hiked the Long Trail, so of course we had to reminisce during the 3.5 miles in. The two lakes are sheltered by the mountain, making a quiet retreat for a good night's camp. Laura and I found a campsite next to the bigger lake, surrounded by Aspens and with a great view of the summit. Arriving to the campsite at 5pm, there wasn't much to do other than eat a relaxed dinner by the lake and set up camp.

Dinner by Thomas Lakes

There was only one other person staying at the campsite and they were set far away from us, but I was happy they were there. The week before we set out there had been several sightings of mountain lions in the area. A small dog had been killed a few nights before our hike, but everyone I talked to had been very reassuring in that the cats wouldn't attack. Nevertheless, I was worried and on guard. Two pretty girls all alone in the woods might look tasty to a big cat. We didn't see any signs of mountain lions, but I'm sure they knew we were there.
 As dark fell over our campsite, we fell into our sleeping bags. Laura and I are notorious for going to bed early on the trail and we did not fail that expectation this time around. Of course, this just allowed us to get a long, peaceful sleep in before waking up at 6am to start hiking. We weaved our way through the Aspens by headlamp to filter water and break down camp. Then it was up the mountain!
It's only 3 miles to the summit from the lakes, but it is some of the toughest terrain I've ever handled. For the first half-mile, we were still under tree line and walking easily on switchbacks. However, the pines quickly get far and few between before giving way completely to scree fields. For the next 2 miles, we hiked over small rocks that easily gave out to rock slides on a knife edge ridge. The advantage to these scree fields is that 1) you get amazing views all the way to the summit and 2) it gives you and excuse to move at a glacial pace. Laura and I were careful with every step, as the rocks were an excellent way to ruin already tentative ankles. Plus, the incline was ridiculous. The ridge we climbed seemed as if it went straight up. Combined with the gaining altitude, this hike was just not fair.
As usual though, I was impressed by our attitudes. Not once did we get distraught or think of turning back. We were going to climb this mountain, slow and steady as we always do. We chatted up the guys who passed us, laughing after they got out of earshot that they were kicking our asses. It has never mattered to Lo or I that we do a hike as fast as possible; we hike it because we love it. We hike to find excellent sitting rocks so we can enjoy the view and have a little snack. We hike to feel the accomplishment of reaching the top and having nowhere else to go but down. And so, we hike it slow.
Reaching the summit at 10:30am, we bundled up against the cold at 12,950 feet. Sopris is the highest thing around, so we got panoramic views of the Roaring Fork Valley and the Maroon Bells- Snowmass Wilderness. Snow piled in drifts in the shaded crags of the mountain and avalanche paths were clearly marked in the scree. It felt good to be that high. I could definitely feel the altitude; the last stretch of mountain was a struggle to breathe. Sopris is the highest mountain I have ever climbed; I am so ready for a Fourteener now.

Views of the Roaring Fork Valley from the summit

A few minutes into our climb down, a hail storm hit. Nothing serious, just a "dippin dot shower" as a fellow climber said. With slippery rocks to now negotiate, the climb down was nerve racking, but joyful. By the time we got down to the lakes, the sun was back out and we strapped on our packs once again to head out.
After hiking 13 miles, we came off the trail. Now, whenever I go out to take care of the dogs, I see Sopris and smile. Next time I do it, I'm bringing my dogs...