Motivation

Winter has arrived, no doubt. Suddenly, cold wind is sweeping off the Divide, dropping trees onto trails, ripping yellow leaves from their moorings, and buffeting mountain bike riders. A dampness pervades the air that tells me that snow cannot be far away. And, my back hurts, both my lower back and neck. For those of you who follow my blog, you know that spine pain is a constant in my life. This year, the weather change has changed it from a dull constant presence to a fiery spear. Hopefully, that will pass soon and I can delay my next surgery for at least another season.

When I hurt, I keep moving. It's always worked best for me - keeping my muscles and joints more supple than they'd otherwise be. Being outdoors and active also keeps me happy - an awesome side effect!

My best furry friend, K, and I hobbled out for our walk this morning. She seemed to sense my precarious mood and tried to make me smile. Look at the size of the stump that she put her front paws on! Can you imagine that, sometime long ago, a logger actually felled such a magnificent tree for lumber?

Very briefly, the sun burst out during our walk, and K climbed onto another stump. It seemed to be "Stump Day" for Miss K! She looked so serene and beautiful in the sunshine that I smiled from ear-to-ear.

Today, after leaving K at home with the two R's (R and the Runner), I headed out for a solo mountain bike ride. Nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, relaxes the spasms in my back like pedaling a bike.

Early in my ride, the clouds lifted just enough for me to see that our local ski slopes have solid layers of snow on them! I used to love to telemark ski on downhill slopes until it was forbidden by my docs due to my back. However, I still smile when I see the first snow on the ski slopes out of happiness for all the ski-lovers in my life.

I pedaled as softly as the mountain trails would allow, listening to the whooshes of the wind gusts making the forest sing with flying pine needles, fluttering yellow aspen leaves, and ominously creaking trees. I crossed a plateau, on the lip of a canyon wall, and I spotted a mountain lion scrape. The lion's hefty hind paws had kicked backwards, leaving a bare patch of dirt with a pile of pine needles and cones behind it. This scrape tells the other forest dwellers that the lion is king. I went to stand in the spot where the lion had stood so recently, hoping to cull some of his intense energy for me.

Near the scrape, I stopped my ride to visit one of my remote wildlife cameras, the one that I believe has become a scent post for animals. So far, a black bear, mountain lions, and bobcats have vigorously rubbed their fur on this camera. I've tried putting it on three different trees in the clearing shown in the photo below, and the animals follow it, marking it or just below it, regardless of where it's posted.

The problem is that the camera doesn't get great photos of an animal who is up against it! Below, you can see that an animal recently visited it but, out of the 20 photos taken by the camera, this one was best. I think that it was a bobcat based on the height of his back. I'm starting to think that I need to point another camera at this one so that I can see what animals visit it!

After riding and checking wildlife cameras, I arrived home tired but content. My back is better but still not "normal", whatever that means for a person with five fusions in her spine living on the brink of winter.

I've been doing physical therapy continuously since my January neck fusion surgery but I recently lost most of my enthusiasm for it. So, my PT did the perfect thing to motivate me. She quantified my tremendous improvement. She told me that, 8 weeks after my surgery, my neck had rotated by a paltry 21 degrees in each direction (left and right), while an ideal neck goes 90 degrees in each direction. After all these months, I've more than doubled my initial mobility, and I've exceeded the "expected" mobility for someone with so much of her neck fused by leaps and bounds. Okay, I said to her, let's keep working. Maybe we can keep my mobility so good that my "next" surgery for my degenerating spine is far off in the future.

In the meantime, I'll keep pedaling, and hopefully, K will be back by my side before I know it. Pretty soon, K and I will be the Physical Therapy Twins - because she'll start canine physical therapy for her surgically repaired paw tendon in a couple of weeks. I am so excited that the day when she can start being more active is approaching!

The Great Leap

This morning, K and I walked into a wet forest with the sounds of rifle shots echoing off the canyon walls nearby. We both wore blaze orange - I looked like the Great Pumpkin while K looked much more stylish in her orange bandanna.

Most years, K quickly gets used to the sound of shots during the deer and elk rifle seasons, and she relaxes. I guess that our walk today was too short to allow her to get used to the reverberating booms reaching us from a distance. She'd look over her shoulder and scan the surroundings after each one.

I am not a hunter, and I once had a dog killed by a gun. Consequently, like K, I get nervous during this season. Our house is an island in a National Forest so, occasionally, people hunt too close for comfort. The vast majority of hunters are responsible and ethical but it takes only one crazy shot to take a dog life or human life. Perhaps K was picking up on my nervousness.

Maybe K would feel more upbeat if she knew that she has only *2* more weeks of a hard cast, and then she can start rehabilitation! We're going to have such fun together when she can walk a little further! I'm already planning the adventures!

After my nervous walk with K, I dressed R in his racing stripes for a mountain bike ride. He wore a full blaze orange vest because he was going to be off-leash. In contrast, K was tied to me, the Great Pumpkin, so she wore only a bandanna. I chose trails to ride where I've never seen a hunter in a decade because it would be too far to haul out a kill. Still, I was very vigilant, watching for fresh boot tracks or other signs of human presence.

We hauled ourselves up to Hug Hill where R modeled his racing stripes with an ominous Continental Divide behind him.

Then, he posed briefly with the Great Pumpkin. That photo shows that my blaze orange jacket has faded over the years - it's time for a new one (but they're very hard to find in my size)!

As we descended, we stopped to play some training games. I believe that it's most important to train R on the trails - where he's often off-leash and good behavior is absolutely required. At the end of the series of recalls, stays, and heeling, we played games on a boulder. I captured a series of photos showing his powerful leap onto the boulder.

To leap, the photos show that he first goes up on his hind legs and then uses those legs alone to propel him into the air. What a beautiful leaper! I think that dogs are stupendous athletes compared to us humans!

After R and I did a relatively short ride, I headed out on my own for some more riding. To my surprise, for 95% of my ride, I saw no one else, not even a hunter. But, at one point near the middle of my ride, I realized that I was following a trail of blood and fur, doubtless from a dead deer being hauled out of the forest. I tried not to focus on it and kept riding.

The clouds over the ridges mesmerized me.

More blood splatters. Keep looking at the mountains, I thought.

I emerged onto a 4wd road that I hate but but it's my only choice for about a half mile of a wonderful loop ride. There, where my singletrack trail met the road, I saw hunters behaving abhorrently. They'd shot a huge beautiful buck, a perfectly legal act. But, they'd tied the gorgeous animal, who was alive and strong a few hours earlier, to the rear of their jeep and were dragging it along the dirt road, tearing off the hide and gouging the meat, while leaving a swath of fur, skin, and blood. This act of disrespect was beyond my ability to comprehend. I literally turned around and went the other way so I wouldn't have to see them for an instant longer.

Just so you know, I believe that most hunters are ethical and respectful. There's one grandfatherly hunter who I see every year during rifle season. In fact, I look forward to running into him because he knows many pearls of wisdom about nature that he imparts to me in our conversations. Moreover, he never forgets about the safety of others in the woods. I'm pretty sure that the vile act that I saw today would have made him as sick as it made me.

The good part

Today was cold and wet. K didn't seem to mind in the least but my back hates it. The "hardware" holding together my lower back bothered me all day. But, I still had some fun moments.

K and I took a little walk, as usual, this morning. Clouds and fog shrouded our world so the remaining yellow leaves glowed.

K seems to be feeling better and better. She has only 2 more weeks in her hard cast, and then she'll get a softer cast that allows more movement. She'll also start PT then! I'm eagerly looking forward to helping her get strong again. I find myself daydreaming about the little hikes that we'll do and how I'll gradually be able to further and further with her. She helped me with my recovery from spine surgery in January and now I get to return the favor! She looked eager to start doing more this morning!

At the end of our walk this morning, we passed a big raspberry patch, shining brilliant red with its autumn leaves. Surprisingly, a decent meal of raspberries still hung from the branches but they looked too shriveled to nourish anyone now.

Later, I had the pleasure of taking R on a mountain bike ride with me. We passed an arch that K used to statuequely perch upon during our rides. Today, R stood tall and proud. I know that his pose doesn't even come close to the feat performed by half of The Herd... We're still pondering how to top that!

After R descended from his perch, we rode into a small meadow. To my surprise, a band of about twenty elk galloped, hoofbeats resonating through the wet air, up a hill and into the fringe of a forest. R did an awesome recall as the fleeing band disappeared.

Then, I decided to take advantage of the elk presence for some training under extremely exciting conditions. I left R in a "sit-stay" near the band of elk and I rode further away from them. In the photo below, R sat just down the hill and out of sight, waiting for me to call him.

I was feeling very proud of my boy, holding a sit-stay with the elk so nearby. Just at that moment, an elk bugle emanated from the forest. Oh my, I thought, R is going to break his stay. I sneaked to the edge where I could see him, and he still sat rock-solid.

 So, I called him - and he streaked to me like a black jet.

As he arrived and I gave him a huge jackpot of treats, the bull elk bugled again. R stopped taking treats to stare in amazement toward the mystical sound.

After gazing toward the elk, he sat and stayed while I showered him in praise and treats. What an absolutely stunning performance!

For almost every bad turn that life takes, a good part germinates. In the case of K's injury, one good part has been that R and I have found a new bond from the time that we've spent alone in the forest. He'll never replace K - I don't love her any less. But, he's assumed a new place in the jigsaw puzzle of my life.

A second good thing to come out of K's injury is that I've rediscovered my love of teaching my dogs new training games. I've played all sorts of games with K to keep her brain occupied during her recovery. I think that I won't put that on hold even when she can be more active.

NIghttime visitors

This morning, K and I headed out for our mini-hike, following a trail from our land into the forest. As we walked, K sniffed the ground so vigorously, snorting loudly, that she made herself sneeze. Then, she resumed sniffing, and it looked as if she focused on particular spots that would fit the step length of a middle sized animal like a coyote or bobcat.

Indeed, our wildlife camera showed lots of travelers on our path, starting at about 9 PM last night when a coyote visited our clearing. Then, around 4 AM, several coyotes left our clearing to head into the forest.

These two hung around in front of the camera for a while, perhaps hoping for blog fame with lots of photos!

I was extremely surprised to see that a bobcat, who looked like the kitten who visited last week, walked our path despite the fresh scent of several coyotes. I've read that coyotes can kill and eat bobcats. Indeed, you can see how much bigger a coyote is by comparing the photo above to the one below.

Seeing K's reaction to the scents this morning emphasized to me how differently we perceive our world. K can know what happened last night because of her exquisitely sensitive nose. In fact, it appeared that she could pick out individual paw prints on the path using her nose. By contrast, I couldn't see (or smell) the tracks.

After walking along the fascinating little trail behind our house, we emerged into sunshine and some aspen leaves.

K sniffed the air and gazed around us, soaking up her time in the forest.

Then, she walked up a gradual boulder, casting a long shadow in the kinnikinnick ground cover behind her. The amazing shadows are one advantage to the low arc of the sun at this time of year.

After I walked K, I headed out for a mountain bike ride, visiting the places where aspens still have autumn leaves. Snow is forecasted for tomorrow so the final leaves may fall.

Near the end of my ride, clouds began to gather as harbingers of the winter blast about to arrive.

I've been having a fabulous time playing brain games with the Duo. They end up sleepy and content...

Almost Wordless Wednesday

A Sweet Chocolate

A nose that knows

Searching for rodents

Up for air

Frost

Melt

Fall and Winter

Winter

A Beautiful Survivor

R turns three!

Our Black Lab, R, has a birthday today. He was born three years ago, and landed in our pack shortly thereafter. As you can see, Ring arrived at about the same time, and R had a flare for the dramatic even way back then. The ring dwarfed R!

R held his own in a tug war over Ring, against his brother and sister. The trio was wearing their fancy Christmas collar covers.

He learned the nuances of play under the gentle tutelage of K.

R arrived in the middle of winter so he quickly learned about cross-country skiing in our snow-bound forest. He's spent the past three winters biting our ski poles and ski tips as we try to make forward progress. Last year, he refined his technique so he acted like a mature dog until I was precariously careening down an icy slope. Then, he'd rocket toward the ski tips to bite them while making loud snarling noises. By then, he was strong enough to wrench a ski in whatever direction he wanted so I'd end up skiing one-legged while trying to wrestle back control over my ski.

Although he's tended toward the wild side, he learned to stay in a sit long enough for a photo during that first winter, with his brother S and sister K. S crossed the rainbow bridge about 18 months later but patiently endured R's puppyhood and even seemed to enjoy him.

 

Although today is R's day, I started it with a walk through crunchy frost with my sweet K. She's acting as if her paw hurts much less all of a sudden, despite a tapering of her pain medications - an encouraging sign to me. However, it is tough to keep her from doing crazy things like jumping over bushes with no provocation.

K, ever the philosopher, contemplated how her world has tilted slightly on its axis due to R's energy over the past three years.

After K and I walked, R got his second outing of the day. He started his birthday with a short run and then he joined me for a short mountain bike ride. We climbed up to Hug Hill to see a new layer of snow coating the Divide.

He posed for me with his front paws on a stump as he gazed at the mountains.

Then, he turned his deep brown eyes toward me. Our bond has grown exponentially in the past few months as he's taken puppy steps toward maturity. R comes from field lines, and I'm told that field Labs often don't mature until they're 4 or 5 years old! Oh my!

Before heading home, we found a yellow aspen for a photo. Aspens with leaves are becoming scarce!

Just before arriving home, R sprinted through a grove of aspen skeletons, and his ears pointed straight toward the sky as he skidded to a halt before bowling me over.

It's also the Two Year Anniversary of R's elbow dysplasia surgery, a stupendous success! Tonight, it's filet mignon for dinner for the birthday boy!