Hiking

Our model German Jagd Terrier, Jigs, is feeling quite sporty, wearing a blaze orange collar accessorized with a receiver by Tritronics and a silver cow bell.

Our model German Jagd Terrier, Jigs, feels quite sporty wearing a blaze orange collar accessorized with a receiver by Tritronics and a silver cow bell.

I hadn’t gone through the black duffel in years, but that long lapse of time meant nothing to Jigs and Chloe. The moment I pulled the bag from the shelf, they rejoiced, running laps around me as I inventoried it’s contents on the living room floor. Every few seconds they’d stop to poke their heads in the bag, and then jump up on me, scratching my back with their too-sharp nails, trying to lick my face. If they could speak, I know they’d be saying, “Get them out!”

My string gets excited whenever I put on my shoes, touch my car keys, or get in the near vicinity of their leashes — those are pretty common reactions for most dogs. My Alaskan Huskies went insane when I grabbed their harnesses, knowing they’d soon be running down a trail. But many people might be amazed to see that Jigs and Chloe get even more amped up over their shock collars. To them, these collars mean something even bigger than walk or roadtrip or mushing — they mean FREEDOM!

The black duffel contains all of my dog-hiking paraphernalia: blaze orange collars for hunting season, small cow bells to help me locate my short dogs in tall brush, a treat bag, water bottles, and a bowl. One morning last week, I finally worked up the nerve to take out the collars and charge them up. I’ve been wanting to let them off-leash for so long, but my heart still suffers from the “what if’s?”. Giving my dogs their freedom back was something I needed to do — for them and for me.

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When not leading an Iditarod Sled Dog team, Lolo is a follower. Here she tags along behind Chloe, the black blob.

My friend and veterinarian in Indy, Dr. Shannon Kiley, helped me train Jigs to a shock collar when he was two years old. German Jagd Terriers are bred to hunt bear and wild boar along with the usual rodents. The small but tough terriers have a hard-wired hunting instinct that can be difficult to control. Training Jigs to a shock collar made his off-lead life safer, and gave me some much-needed peace of mind. Now, I train all of my hiking dogs to the collars (I use the Tritronics Pro 100 G3 EXP model with Tracer Lights) which I prefer to call their “pagers.” I very rarely use the shock button anymore, only needing to press the “BEEP!” sound button to get their attention in the field. Jigs and Chloe love to be “paged,” knowing that a treat awaits them when they “come.”

I know my dogs are animals, and there will be times (usually involving skunks or deer or porcupine) when their instincts will take over. I weigh the risks and DSCF1101rewards wherever I go, and try to make the best decisions for their safety. Every day, I become a little bit braver. At first, I allowed them to run free on familiar hikes around Martinsdale Reservoir or up Pasture Gulch. Now, we are branching out to new trails in the Castles, Crazy, and Little Belt Mountains. Every time I release them to run, yelling their favorite command, “FREE DOG!”, I feel tiny pieces of my old self returning. And I am reminded that one of the most precious gifts in life is freedom… of all kinds.

DSCF0374This last Monday as I was leaving Helena to drive back to Martinsdale, I noticed two young men walking single file along US 12-East headed for Townsend. It was almost 5 pm. Dark clouds churned overhead. The hikers pushed “strollers” marked with orange safety flags. They were leaving town at a good clip, moving with confidence into some BIG and wild Montana country. Seeing them, I felt pangs of both nostalgia and longing. I want to be walking with them… I thought.

Five days later, I looked out my kitchen window and discovered the same pair of hikers rolling into Martinsdale. I knew they were headed my way — my neighbor had heard through the grapevine that the two 19-year old Washington State University students were walking across the United States, from Seattle to New York City, raising money for the Seattle Childrens’ Hospital. She also said they’d be passing through our tiny town any day now.

I met Cameron Coupe and Zan Roman as they walked past my house, and I offered them a place to stay. They parked their strollers in my garage, and then took off on their skateboards to explore the town of Martinsdale. We went out to dinner at the Crazy Mountain Inn. At my house, they did laundry, took showers, wrote in their journals at my kitchen table, and crashed for the night in my living room. They fell asleep listening to the Harry Potter series-on-tape, playing the book out loud over a miniature speaker they carried with them.

A roadside find turned hikers' mascot...

A roadside find turned hikers’ mascot…

After spending months hiking on the Appalachian Trail with my dog, Kirby, and friend, Maureen, I know what it feels like to take a very long walk. Cross-country hikers can only go as fast as their legs will work. Their main focus in a day is getting from point A to point B. They carry their whole lives on their backs (or in strollers). And they are quite happy people. Hosting these two young adventurers brought back all of those feelings, and many great memories. Countless people helped us during our hike (we called them “trail angels”) — I was thrilled to pay forward the generosity of those strangers who quickly became our true friends.

If you see two young men zooming down a hill into your town on skateboards, pushing strollers pull of gear in front of them, that’s probably Cameron and Zan just passing through… offer them a place to stay and some grub and you won’t regret it. They’re great company…

Headed east...

Headed east…

Happy trails, Cameron and Zan!

Follow their progress at http://www.walkforseattlechildrens.com/