March 2023

So the plan for the first hike of March was to do an easy ten mile snowshoe trip on a trail I know well near Hood River. The problem was when I left my home with 2 feet of snow surrounding it and drove east to Hood River, I found the town void of snow. This must be the definition of irony I thought to myself. So in a last minute change of heart, I decided that we had to find snow and not do the planned trail in the river canyon after all. This of course meant turning south on Hwy 35 and heading toward Mt. Hood. We drove further and further south toward the mountain while I ticked through the slide show in my brain of good trails to get out on as we watched the snow and ice deepen along the roads. My truck seemed to be on auto-pilot as it turned up a snowy side road for miles to a good place I knew to get onto the northeast side of the mountain.

For today, I had brought my runner's snowshoes. I was anxious to really get some good miles in on these to fully evaluate them compared to my other gear. But I also carried my full crampons as well as my ski skates in my winter kit so I had a lot of weight on my back. I wanted to have all the options available on this trail. With my change of trail plans, I knew I needed to mentally prepare for the climbing that I would be doing. We hit the trail while snow was gently falling all around us. Pretty soon we were admiring the local geology.

People often ask what it is like to hike with a wolf. "Well it is different than hiking with any dog you have ever known," is what I always tell them. Her senses are all wolf and nothing like a regular dog. She sees, hears and smells things that Nova and I never can. She observes everything. Nothing passes her attention. I have learned to trust her instincts immensely on the trail. She walks with purpose. She stops with purpose. Every move she makes is searching; ever searching. She is almost always switched on. It is truly like walking with a full predator by your side. I use to think that hiking with a 38 revolver is what made me feel bullet proof. Forget that.....a predatory hiking partner is really what makes you feel invincible. But that means you also have to be patient. Nova and I generally use to just hike with the purpose to get to our goal for the day and return to the truck. We liked to crank out the miles. I thought of us as peak-baggers. But Josie has changed that approach a lot. The wolf likes to take the long way. She wants to explore. She wants to dig down into snow and eat things. She wants to follow any and all tracks of wildlife. She sees tracks first and knows what they are from a distance, pulling to get to them. Then she deeply smells the tracks to learn what left them. Finally she hastily wants to follow the tracks wherever they may lead. Nova and I generally don't care what crossed the trail, but we humor the wolf and often follow tracks now. We stop so she can smell the roses or whatever is buried in the snow.

On this particular day she made us follow bunny rabbit tracks to a log that she was sure they were hiding under. I let her explore only a little bit as I was not about to be a part of a rabbit massacre, no matter how much the wolf's heart dreamed of this. One time when we were driving the truck out to a hike, she was watching the road in front of us and saw a rabbit run right across the road, which I narrowly missed hitting. She about put herself through the windshield to get to it. I have tried to make her wear a seat-belt for this very reason, but she has chewed through every one I have tried. She doesn't exactly like to be confined, I can tell you that!

Before the wolf came to live with us, Nova always liked to lead on hikes. But now they have a new understanding. Nova lets Josie lead the way out to our destination and then Nova usually takes the lead back to the truck. It is a fair trade, but Josie has become so large now that this is mostly what my view looks like on the way out on the trail.

The day was nearly perfect on the mountain. It snowed on and off throughout our hike. Sometimes this was a gentle, peaceful snow cascading down around us. Other times it was a wicked snow pelting us and blowing painfully into our faces. It was funny as we climbed higher the snow pack went from being hard and icy on top into deeper and deeper powder, making post holing an issue even with snowshoes on. But onward we climbed. I have a bit of a problem that I like to hike farther than anyone else on the trail. For many miles we were following tracks that someone else had left. I was thrilled when those tracks finally ended and I could see where this other solo hiker had clearly turned around to head back. Now, my hiking could start I thought! Virgin snow exploration is the best! Josie whole heartedly agrees!

We stopped for some photos. Can you tell by their faces that I baited the girls to hold still for me? It is not always easy to get these two to stop moving and sit side by side for a picture!

We climbed higher and higher, my thighs growing weary from the constant post holing. But mostly because Nova kept stepping on the backs of my snowshoes, making the weight of each lifted boot even heavier! She hates post holing and gets really close into my tracks to try to prevent it. Sometimes I think I just need to tie her to my pack's front straps and carry her through these conditions! But the significant pack weight I had on me today was already stealing my energy as it was. My left knee and right foot were screaming at me for relief from the weight and the post holing combined. When the sun came out for a few brief moments, we took the time to stop and enjoy it and let our bones rest.

There were dark clouds moving in behind us, so we knew this moment wouldn't last long. The snow would be falling again and probably rather violently at that. But you have to enjoy the little moments when you can! In Matthew 11:28, the bible does tell me: Come to me, all of you who are tired from carrying heavy loads, and I will give you rest.

This particular section we were hiking through had suffered a forest fire years ago and was rather barren, but beautiful at the same time. The exposed rolling hills had such powder on them that as the wind blew harshly around us, it was like watching the sands of time in a desert blow across the surface. As we stood still trying to enjoy the momentary sun spot, we watched the snow just blowing past our feet. That was until a piece of moss came blowing past us along the surface looking like an escaped prey and Josie took off to chase it with Nova and I in tow! At least this time I saw it coming and could brace for the impact so she didn't take me off my feet. Nova was not amused by the moss chasing.

One of the challenges we have found with real powdery deep snow is what it does to the poor wolf's feet. Due to her long, thick fur, it tends to ball up on her. Nova does not have this problem. But old injuries on my feet were flaring up so badly by about mile 8 that I was really feeling Josie's pain myself. She won't ever let me help her with this issue and prefers to try to chew them off herself.

I have tried dog boots, but she has made it abundantly clear that wolves absolutely do not wear boots or snoods for that matter. I have never seen her more angry than when I tried one of those on her! She will only allow clothing when we are spending the night and she can't fit in the sleeping bag with Nova and I. (For the record, she does have her own bag for backpacking trips and she sometimes lays on top of Nova and I for extra warmth. But I say that is what your pack family is for.)

Finally we all decided that we were feeling pretty tired so it was about time to pull out the thermos of hot chili and bowls. I had splurged and brought a small packet of shredded cheese for our chili today too. We were living the good life for sure!!! I even found a snow covered log to sit on for our dinner. We usually always eat while standing, but Josie and I were suffering so much with our feet that we decided to be extravagant.

As we sat to eat, I contemplated one of the most noticeable things on this hike, especially throughout the open landscapes from the fire damage. It was the solitude. Our world had become almost painfully silent. Every time we stopped moving, there was such an absence of sound that it was shocking. Sure when the snow would fall, we could hear the soft pinging of the flakes off my puffer coat. When we walked, we could hear the loud crunching beneath our boots and paws. But when we stood or sat still, when the snow paused its descent from the sky, when the wind took a break from whistling through the tree trunks, there was not a sound to be heard. I strained to hear anything at times and could not. When I first stopped to listen, I could hear the blood pumping in my own ears, but the longer I stood, even that stopped. When my own breathing slowed, I couldn't hear that anymore. I realized how loud our world has become.....too loud. As humans we have become use to a very unhealthy level of noise pollution! We are surrounded by sound all of the time and most people think it is normal now. I think this is why so many people don't talk to God anymore. We have all drowned out His voice with so much noise. These moments of silence when hiking is a big part of the draw for me to come out here. You can't put a price on utter and complete silence.

But the problem has also become that once I get use to that level of silence, it is really hard for me to go back to the noise of our world. While I often have my radio or CD player blasting in my truck on the way to a hike, I find that I generally turn it off on my way back out. I need silence after being alone all day with the girls and God. Even hearing human voices can become like finger nails on a chalkboard to me for days after a hike. It is a strange transitional period and the longer I am in the woods, the harder this is for me. I remember reading in adventurer Aldo Kane's recent book about how hard his adjustment periods would be after an adventure. He admitted that the longer the adventure was where he was tucked away from reality, the longer that adjustment time would be when he came back to it. I was so happy to feel like I was not alone in these strange feelings. On this particular day, on the snowy hills beneath the ever watchful eye of Mt. Hood, I felt like I was the last human on the planet. I was really okay with that and I know Josie the wolf was too!