When this blog began, Bailey Tuckerman Kent was an 8-week-old Bernese Mountain Dog living in the western mountains of Maine with his writer dad, Rich. These are their stories.... and don't forget, click on most photos to enlarge.
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| Sunday River White Heat Trail |
We were both pooped today from the heat. Bailey took his first trail swim of the season and I did not. I"m breaking in new boots, so my toes are getting smashed up and my feet feel hot... but! We were out there.
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| This cairn is after the first granite steep. The views of the Mahoosuc Range are fun. Don't forget, click photos to enlarge. |
It doesn't take too many days off from hiking to make the next hike a tough one. That's what happened on Easter. Bailey's been battling giardia and I've been suffering the results of being his caretaker at 3am or 1am. We got a late start on Whitecap but off we went on the Yellow trail up about a mile into the saddle. From the saddle we head up three sets of steeps--two have granite faces and one is more a traditional dirt path going fairly straight up. I was tired. Bailey looked like he was searching for dead things to eat. I swear, I'd have whacked him with my hiking pole had he started gobbling up poop or whatever.
Add to several days off from hiking new hiking boots, and you've got a recipe for bad feet and tired legs. Nevertheless, on we went.
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| Any season, this stretch of trail makes for a fun picture |
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| Water bridges |
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| Where Yellow and Orange intersect |
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| Water bridge |
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| Let's see... Orange Trail sign. |
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| My skillful dog |
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| Among the last snow patches... a good stretch |
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| Mount Washington & Sunday River |
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| The morning after... |
Spring time means great smells and tasty treats. Many dogs, like Mr. Bailey Tuckerman Kent, love to sample turkey poop and discarded sandwiches that have lingered beneath the snow for a season. Many of these delectables cause giardiasis (a.k.a., giardia), an intestinal infection, and get dogs coming and going... if you get my drift.
After a day of vomiting and gross stool, last night proved to be the clincher. Starting at 12:30am, Bailey maintained a steady in and out routine in the pouring rain with temps at 40 degrees. I "slept" in a zero gravity chaise lounge in the unheated mudroom wrapped in a Walmart comforter so I could let him out. Several times, he did not come back, so I went out into the rain. At 3am, he went out at a sprint and disappeared. Two of my neighbors' big old dogs had wandered off. Sadie never came back and Jack was found 11 days later up near Joe Pond. The temps during those nights went to zero degrees. He died the next morning.
After circling the house wearing my LLBean head lamp, I walked into the woods. Thirty yards into the trees, I saw his piercing eyes in the distance and he came when I called.
Hopefully, the medicine I picked up from the Vet's will do the job. I don't care if I have to sleep in the mud room for a month.
We'll have at least 2 more snowstorms here in Maine, and the temps will drop into the teens for weeks to come. But for these few days, we have springtime, Windex-blue skies, and corn snow. Not much better than that....
If you're reading this post years after I die, I want to make clear that the title is not hyperbole. There's not much I enjoy more than a hiking trail, sunshine, cool temps, and a dog who did not roll in turkey poop (this time).
Yesterday, I lounged on my back deck in 50-degree sunshine. I promised myself 20 minutes, but woke up an hour later. Today, with low clouds, we hiked the trails from the town garage up toward Joe Pond and then back down through the Virginia section of town where. I live. Ice, mud, and snow made hiking a tedious affair, but as always, good to get out no matter what.
