hiking with dogs – the Fur-iday Files

Water Dog

Published on May 21, 2021July 31, 2022 by Chico2 Comments

I’ve never been that dog who leaps into water after a stick. Mind you, I’ve never been that dog who chases a stick on land. When Logan was around, I’d compete for whatever was being thrown for him to fetch, but with him went any fetch inclination I possessed.

I’m also not a big swimmer. I can swim. I will swim. But I don’t go into the water just to paddle around. Water is for cooling off. The hotter I am, the deeper I’ll go and the longer I’ll stay.

But I do love water. These days I get thirsty more quickly when walking or on a warm day, so it’s become key to my comfort, but even in my youth I was drawn to the cool, refreshing effect of water. I’d stand in it, lie in it, slurp it up, and swim if conditions warranted.

When it’s a hot day and the water is shallow … improvise. (Arizona in 2012)

So, whenever we go camping or road tripping, I always cast my vote for somewhere with a river, lake, or stream, and this past week’s adventure didn’t disappoint.

We started off at a little provincial recreation area called Maycroft. The name doesn’t tell you much. It could be just about anything anywhere, but is actually a small campground right next to the Oldman River. It was mid-twenties Celsius when we arrived, so I was initially disappointed to find we’d be perched far above the river. But no matter how steep the bank, there’s always a trail to water. T and Nollind spent the evening playing music for the Oldman, and I curled up in the soft, new, green grass. It’s so luxurious at this time of year.

Our perch above the river and my refreshing trip to the river.

After one perfect night, we were on our way to our intended destination, Beauvais Lake Provincial Park. You might remember we visited this same place last fall, spent Canadian Thanksgiving there. The coloured leaves are gone, but in their place are flowers, lots of them. Mostly carpets of these little yellow guys called Trout Lilies, but also some crocuses, shooting stars, and sunflowers. I’m not really a flower guy, but T sure likes them and had her big camera out taking pictures.

Me, I like the walking and the water. On Monday, our first full day at Beauvais, we did the trail that circuits the entire lake. It was a warm morning, and the trail is ten kilometres, so I was pretty happy to have the lake right there to drink from and dip into over the course of our three-hour hike.

On Tuesday, we ventured into Castle Provincial Park and found more water. A lake called Beaver Mines, and a river called Castle. There are a bunch of places to camp in this park and a long list of hiking trails so we definitely plan to return. If any of you have visited, I’d love to hear about your favourite campgrounds and trails.

Castle Falls

We were scheduled to travel home on Thursday, but a bright red banner showed up on the Environment Canada website Wednesday morning causing T and Nollind to reconsider.

I know how they hate to give up a paid-for night of camping, and also hate being chased by weather, but they decided to leave a day early and avoid travelling in snow. Me, I was fine with the decision. I love water less when it’s falling from the sky, preferring to get wet on my own terms.

Rest stop on the final morning’s hike up Piney Point.

So, camping adventure number two for the season is in the book (literally … there’s a book). Three nights at Dinosaur, one at Maycroft, and three at Beauvais make seven nights I’ve claimed my space on the people bed. They used to have me up for evening cuddles before sending me to my own bed, but aging has its perks. And I’ve learned to keep to my space, not move around too much, and not freak T out by trying to get down in the middle of the night and crashing (yes, it happened).

As for where we’ll go next? Well, your guess is as good as mine. As long as there’s water and a space on the bed for me, I’m game for just about anywhere.

Bad Lands, Good Dog

Published on May 14, 2021July 31, 2022 by Chico2 Comments

Early this week, we spent three days camping at Dinosaur Provincial Park, in an area known as the Alberta Badlands. It reminds me a lot of some of the desert places we’ve travelled in winter, which I think is why T and Nollind like it so much. Unusual rocks, dry-land shrubs, cactus and other spiny plants, all feel a little like home to us part-time desert dwellers. And after three winters of not travelling to places south, we soaked it all up.

It didn’t feel very desert-esque when we first arrived. There were a lot of puddles in the campground, and the air was damp and cool. Perfect, really. At this stage of my life, the latter part, I do appreciate cool, but not cold, weather. I’ve become a bit of a Goldilocks when it comes to temperature, needing it to be just right.

An indoor game of crib on the chilly first evening.

The puddles persisted in the clay soil, but the trails soon dried and we were off hiking on Monday morning to the Cottonwood Flats Trail along the Red Deer River. We tried to walk this same trail a few years back when we camped at Dinosaur, but the mosquitoes were terrible and had us keeping to the drier areas of the park. This year, a month earlier than that trip, no mosquitoes, no flies, and no sign of the snakes that inhabit this part of Alberta. Too cool for them yet I imagine. It’s the same in Arizona. The snakes are hibernating when we visit. In five winters we’ve only seen two snakes, and both were too cold and slow to be of concern.

Each day at the park, we walked in the morning and again in the evening, because it’s coolest then and because the trails are all quite short. Just right for a 12-year-old dog who doesn’t have quite the same stamina for climbing as in my youth, and as I mentioned earlier, lacks temperature tolerance (aka Goldilocks syndrome).

A sizeable portion of Dinosaur Provincial Park is closed to the public unless you join a park-organized tour (currently not offered because of the pandemic). Being a Unesco World Heritage Site, the goal is to preserve. No offense, readers, but you humans are hard on natural spaces. The publicly accessible part of the park is easily explored on foot or paw over a few days, and we did just that, walking all the designated trails and even venturing off-track one evening, seeking a good place for sunset viewing. (If you like evening shots, check out T’s photos on her Instagram account @teresavanbryce).

Wednesday morning was our final walk, and T ambitiously planned the Badlands Loop, a hike across the hills to the Cottonwood Trailhead, and then back to camp via that trail. I, on the other hand, after two days of many walks and a bunch of hill climbing, was planning a nice nap in the shade on a warm morning. We compromised, completing the Badlands Loop (good boy, Chico!) and returning to camp for that spot in the shade (good girl, T!).

We got home mid-afternoon Wednesday, and I helped unpack by following the peeps to and from the trailer, supervising the process. It was a quick job this time. After only two days at home, we’re headed out again tomorrow, so we left some things in Simon for the next adventure. I hear we’re southbound this time, and I’ll tell you all about it in a week or two.

In the meantime, as my G-Ma used to say, “Don’t hurry, don’t worry, and don’t forget to smell … well, everything!” (Sorry, G-Ma. I changed the ending a little.)

My favourite way to explore … with my nose.

Happy Humans, Happy Hound

Published on April 9, 2021July 31, 2022 by Chico5 Comments

It’s been a tough year for humankind. We dogs have been able to go about our lives as normal, sniffing each other’s butts and the like, but humans haven’t been able to hug their friends or otherwise be close to anyone outside their own home. When we go to the park, I can sniff noses (etcetera) with dogs I meet along the way, get a cuddle from humans we cross paths with, and nobody is put at risk. I don’t even have to wear a mask!

Greeting friends along the canal in Strathmore.

I see the toll it’s all taking on my peeps. They’re a sturdy pair and have shouldered the changes to life quite admirably, but now and then, it gets to them. For T it’s more because of the way people treat and talk to one another these days than any fear or consequence of the pandemic. For Nollind, it’s the recurring uncertainty of the coming sailing season, the many Glenmore Sailing Club programs he’s put in place, and the people eager to participate.

They think I don’t notice, going about my day—eating, napping, walking, sniffing—but I feel it when they’re unhappy or grumpy or discouraged. We dogs are a very sensitive species.

Here I am adding a little cheer by nearly stepping on T’s head.

I’ve taken it upon myself this past year to carry some of the burden, get them out of their funks and back into the world when necessary, cheer them up. I’m not young enough to scoot around in circles with my tail tucked anymore (those of you with young dogs will know what this looks like), but I do have other tools at my disposal, like telepathy.

Yup, you read that right, I use my powers of non-verbal communication to plant ideas in their heads, ideas they think are theirs. And I’m totally fine with not getting the credit. As long as they’re happy, I’m happy. Happy humans, happy hound, I like to say.

It goes something like this: I notice that T is not as enthusiastic about going outdoors (her favourite place), spending time with the horses, or is watching more TV than usual. Chico to the rescue! Without actually saying it, because I can’t speak, I suggest an outing, transferring the thought directly to her right neocortex. Next thing I know, plans are in the works for day camping, road tripping, or an outdoor get-together with friends. Pleased with my success, I take a nap.

Always paying attention to what’s happening with the humans.

In the past week, I’ve had to rescue the humans twice. My first solution was getting G, S & R an invite to the farm for a walk, bbq, and outdoor visit. I have to say, one of my better ideas. It’s tough to get T and Nollind to go anywhere on a weekend (too many people), especially a long weekend, so bringing the party to them was my solution. Clever canine, right?

We took a walk along the canal, which is something we do almost every day, but not with Ria entertaining the troops with her water antics or the wide-roaming conversation that happens when the four bi-peds hang out.

The walk was followed by some glorious time on the deck in the sun for the humans and some even more glorious bone-chewing time for us dogs. More food followed for everyone. A few beverages were imbibed. The new gas fire pit was put through its first paces. It felt like the “good old spring days” of 2019. The smiles said it all. Ria and I shared a little front-paw high five on her way out. Mission accomplished.

If you zoom in, you’ll see Ria’s “knowing” expression.

That was just last Saturday, Easter weekend. Normally I can coast for a week or two before I have to step in and rearrange their day-to-day, but I was called to action in just two days. It’s a busy time for dogs right now. This time it was some stuff that T read online that had her down in the dumps again in very short order. (I keep telling her to stay away from Facebook!) So, I suggested an outing, an excursion, a close-to-home road trip.

How it works is that I plant the general idea but then leave it up to the peeps to nail down the specifics. They have more knowledge of locations and conditions. I am the seed planter.

T needed some new boots for around the farm so we started off at Irvine’s Western Wear near Crossfield where she tried on multiple styles and sizes before finding her Goldilocks pair. From there we drove west to Water Valley, a completely new place to me, and visited William J. Bagnall Wilderness Park, a completely new place to all of us. (A quick shout out here to our neighbour—THANKS!—who posted about a recent hike and inspired the destination of Wednesday’s excursion.)

The stairs at Skunk Hollow—just two more flights to go!

Given its location in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, it wasn’t a big surprise we found some snow and ice still on the trail, but I managed to get the humans around the loop without incident. If I slip and fall, which has happened numerous times, no biggie, but they go down hard from farther up. It’s a scary thing to watch happen. Anyway, Skunk Hollow in the William J. Bagnall Wilderness Park. Great place. Can’t wait to go back in the green-grass, free-flowing river season.

After Skunk Hollow, we ventured through the community of Water Valley and north, to the Water Valley Campground. It’s closed for camping until May but the day use area was open for a picnic beside the river. As I watched T sipping her peppermint tea and looking up at the evergreens swaying in the breeze, I knew my plan had succeeded, another seed had sprouted and borne fruit.

I was content to call it a win and head home at that point but there was another stop and another walk in our day, this one at Glenbow Ranch Provincial Park between Cochrane and Calgary. If a little nature could bring the cheer back to my peeps, a little more might get them through the next bump on the Covid road. Count me in!

Tiger Lily Trail at Glenbow Ranch Provincial Park.

Yesterday I was exhausted. T had to come downstairs and get me out of bed for breakfast in the morning. What?! But it was worth every sore muscle brought on by what felt like hundreds of stairs at Skunk Hollow and a near ninety-degree hill climb at Glenbow Ranch. I am such a trooper.