Two of my favorite things to do on my days off are spend time with my dog and go hiking. Thankfully, I’m lucky enough to live somewhere that allows me to do both. With our prime location between the mountain ranges and a mostly-pet-friendly community, there’s lots we’re able to do together. When I began thinking what type of dog would best suit my lifestyle, I decided that, aside from size, fearless abandon was perhaps the most significant characteristic. I wanted a dog that I could load up and take to the park, for a hike, drive cross country or maybe even just sit on a restaurant patio with; a dog that is both intelligent and compassionate.

It should go without saying that the one thing that tops the list of ‘things that make me happy’ is hiking with my dog. I thoroughly enjoy being able to do something I really like with someone I really like. I have taken Maxwell on the trail with me several times, beginning shortly after he came to live with me, and each time I am astounded at his strength, endurance and ability to maneuver his way past obstacles. We routinely take trails up to 7mi. in length, scattered with downed trees and boulders, and he is just as eager to press on in the last few steps as the first. One really couldn’t ask for a better hiking partner.

Anticipating many years and many trails together, over the holidays I invested in a pack for Maxwell. I’d say that dog training is a hobby, or interest, of mine and to that end I try to be well-read and consider tips and pointers. I remember reading an article that stated the best way to prevent a dog from becoming distracted on a walk is to ensure that the exercise is purposeful and not mundane. In comes the pack. By giving a dog the task of carrying his own food, water, waste bags, bowls, etc. we are giving him something meaningful to do. Not only that, but the extra weight of the pack can slow down his pace, suppress any pulling or tugging and make him reconsider his interest in running after squirrels. Now we have a dog who, though perhaps not entirely well-behaved, is at least manageable.

Since his pack arrived in the mail, Maxwell and I have walked laps together around the marked track at the park. He carries 32oz. of water, a bag of kibble, and a collapsible bowl to put it all in. He knows, as soon as I grab his pack from the back of the chair, that we are going somewhere exciting. The first time I let him put it on, he pranced his first lap around the park. People always seem happy, and intrigued, to see him wearing his pack at the park, as the water bottles slosh back and forth inside his saddlebags.

Several weekends ago, we had our first chance to try it out on the trail. We hiked with friends in the Big South Fork National Recreation Area. Although winter isn’t the friendliest season to hikers, the views and glimpses at a cold, sleeping world can be the most beautiful. The leaves are gone from the trees, exposing views that are occluded at other times of the year, and all of the scenery seems much more stark and dramatic.

The trail on this day was incredibly muddy due to recent rain and snow / ice melt. Throughout the trip, we paralleled a river that was way out of its banks and had recently covered the trail. We could see the tops of trees visible at the water’s surface, and stains along the cliff walls showing how high the water had been. The trail was so muddy, and icy, that it made the whole path very slippery and, in some spots, dangerous to pass with a dog. Luckily, Maxwell’s pack has a handle, which spreads the load out across his body, so I was able to pick him up and carry him across the precarious spots. In other places, the mud was deeper than his legs, and he would get stuck up to his chest, having to wait for me to pull him out.

The trail ran sandwiched between the river and a cliff directly to the side of it, on top of which was a steep hillside. All along the cliff face were stunning, mammoth icicles reaching 20-30ft. to the ground. The icicles disappeared as the cliff diminished, and the last portion of trail ran alongside the foot of the hill. The terrain seemed markedly different without the exposed stone wall. The dogs became more aware of smells and activity on the wooded hillside and were more cautious about straying too far. We found scat, bones, and teeth strewn along the trail and tried to imagine what could have passed that way before us.

At the end of the hike, Maxwell and I both were filthy from splashing through steams and puddles, mucking through the mud, and walking through the sand where the trail had washed out. We were both tired, but Maxwell seemed to enjoy every single minute of the hike. He pulled just as hard, and trotted just as enthusiastically, when we returned to the trail head as he did when we left, and slept more sound than ever on my lap in the car as we all drove home.

That makes me incredibly happy.