Happy Camper

This past weekend seemed like a perfect time to take Fry on a local overnight camping trip to get him accustomed to the pop-up and also to see how he was going to handle the whole camping situation. We chose Holly Point since it's a fairly short drive - on the off chance we needed to come home early for any reason - and close to some very pretty trails and the lake. Site 85 was nice and shady, with a large tent pad.

Site 85

As soon as we got the camper set up, Fry eagerly jumped inside and was an adorable Welcoming Committee.

Welcoming Committee

Once we got everything unpacked, settled in and showed Fry around his "home" for the weekend, we then headed out hiking at a nearby trail.

Hiking

Trail Dog

Fry had a blast, trotting along the trail, and playing in the tall grasses with his signature unbridled puppy joy.

Unbridled Puppy Joy

And on the way back to the trailhead, what doggy luck on a toasty afternoon to find a cool refreshing MUDHOLE!!!

Mud!

Ahhhh

Muddy Dog

As much fun as it was for Fry to play in the mud, we didn't really want all that tracked back into the camper, so off to the lake we went to get him a nice rinse. Being the water-loving boy that he is, Fry happily obliged and dove right in.

Waterboy

We arrived back at the camper where a tired little Fry flopped down on the bed in the air-conditioning while Steve and I took a short walk to check out the campground's swim beach and bathhouse. On our return, we were delighted to discover Fry had his "big boy manners" on and had behaved like a camping pro, napping quietly while we were gone.

Camper

After cooking a yummy dinner on the grill, we all headed inside to eat and relax, with a beautiful view of the stars through the camper's skylight. Fry had already become quite comfortable in his home-away-from-home and settled in contentedly with a chew toy.

Happy Puppy

Bedtime

On awakening this morning, I took Fry out for a tinkle-walk and a short tour of our campsite loop. He was so good on his leash and continued to display excellent manners, including politely greeting the ranger who came by to empty the garbage cans at the campsite.

Fry kept an eye on Steve's coffee and supervised the preparation of both his and our breakfast.

The Supervisor

Then came inside with us and lounged on the bed while we finished our coffee.

Fry and Daddy

Rub My Tummy!

After finishing breakfast and showering, Steve and I took Fry for a longer walk around the campground, where again he politely and happily greeted everyone he saw with a friendly smile and wagging tail. He seemed to be quite content and comfortable on this short trip, and we look forward to many more vacations with our little Happy Camper!

Happy Camper

My Joy

My joy has four paws, soulful eyes that speak volumes without saying a word, a perpetually wagging tail, and velvety floppy ears. My joy's name is Fry.

His enthusiasm for living has brought me back to my previous loves of mountain biking, swimming, hiking and running, each of which is all the more sweet when shared with my little Fry-man.

His spirit is unstoppable, his happiness contagious. Watching the way he fully lives every single moment, it's impossible to not smile, just impossible.

Buddy

As far as I know, he has no name. At least I’ve never heard anyone call him by one. So I call him “Buddy”. His story probably isn’t national newsworthy. He hasn’t suffered beatings. He hasn’t been burned with fire or chemicals. He wasn’t mutilated or dragged behind a car. But to me, his story is no less important. His solitary life of silent misery is the result of human callousness, and the failure of my community, its leaders and yes, us residents, to insist on stronger anti-cruelty laws and anti-tethering legislation. As a result, Buddy’s life consists of a roughly 10-foot circle at the base of an old tree at the end of a heavy bull-chain that is padlocked to a thick leather collar buckled tightly around his neck. Under his feet is dirt, trash and various items of other debris. His only relief from extremes of weather – snow, ice, rain, wind, heat, humidity – and insects such as fleas, ticks and biting flies is a makeshift doghouse and whatever shade is provided by the tree supporting his chain. He is underweight, with his ribs clearly visible, and hipbones and shoulder blades prominent. The only nourishment I am certain he receives is the dog cookies I offer him. There is an old bucket next to his doghouse that I hope has water in it, but the bucket is often overturned as a result of Buddy’s bull chain dragging across it. So I tried to help during this current heat wave by lowering another bucket over the fence and filling it with my own water hose.

My husband and I have made efforts to contact Buddy’s owners, but no one appeared to be home, so we left a note to let them know we gave Buddy some water since his was empty. When we got no response, I called Animal Control who referred me to the Wake Forest Police who referred me to the Wake County Sheriff who referred me back to Animal Control. I was initially told since it was after 5 p.m., they would only respond to emergencies and apparently a chained dog in 100 degree temperatures with no water did not constitute an emergency?!?!?!?!  I called again on July 4^th after still getting no response from the owner to our note, and after noticing blood on Buddy’s head. Finally, an Animal Control officer did arrive at Buddy’s home. Apparently by this time, the owner was home. After talking with the owner, the officer came to my house to let me know what was going on. This is where I realized how woefully inadequate our animal protection laws are, and to be honest, I felt very sorry for the officer as my gut told me he really wished he could rescue Buddy from his miserable life but didn’t have the legal right to do so.

I feel like I failed Buddy by not calling to report the owner to Animal Control previously, as now this was his first offense so he basically got a “pass”. I believe the officer did all he could and I do appreciate that. And this is all he could do, since we have essentially tied his hands by not making sure animal welfare is addressed sufficiently in our legal system. This is inexcusable.

The owner has 24 hours to, at a minimum, get a swivel for the chain so Buddy won’t get his tether twisted and tightened. The officer also strongly suggested getting something lighter to tie him with since that bull chain is very likely more than 10% of Buddy’s total weight.

The owner was given a warning for not having Buddy vaccinated for rabies and was instructed to get that done immediately. He was also told to take the dog to a vet for treatment of multiple head and neck wounds due to a severe flea infestation and resultant excessive scratching.

The owner was told that Buddy had to have clean water accessible to him at ALL TIMES 24 hours a day 7 days a week.

The officer said Buddy was to have sufficient food. He did mention to me that “there was food on the property” and sadly that is all the law currently requires, but fails to address the problem that that does not mean the dog is actually RECEIVING any of that food. Ridiculous. Also, the officer said although Buddy was clearly undernourished, he wasn’t “skinny enough yet” to be considered neglected. Again, ridiculous. You can easily see every rib, and the hips and shoulders are extremely prominent.

The officer asked us to keep an eye on Buddy and to call him back if any of the above conditions were not addressed, and I will absolutely do that. But I believe we as a society and our entire system have failed this poor dog. Look at this picture and tell me honestly that this is any kind of life for a sentient, living being whose only desire is to be Man’s Best Friend. I know my own heart is breaking into a million pieces, and I will do everything in my power to get laws established to redefine animal cruelty and prevent the perpetual tethering of dogs. It is up to us to stop tying the hands of our animal control officers and give them the capability to help those who cannot help themselves.

Apparently our lawmakers think this is a dog who is "okay". I, for one, DO NOT think there is anything "okay" about this in any way, shape or form, and I will not rest until our laws are changed. Will you help?

Our Lawmakers Think This is "Okay"?!?

Got Game?

Well, I thought I was ready for the State Games of NC mountain bike race at Hobby Park. But apparently I underestimated the toll that several years of aging and an extra 40 pounds would take on my attempt to re-enter the world of cross country racing. With the guidance of my canine cycling coach and best buddy, Fry, I’d been riding the local trails here almost every day since deciding to do the State Games race a couple of months ago, and I honestly (if perhaps naively) thought I would be prepared. After all, I only had to do one 6.4 mile lap on a trail that, while definitely not a beginner trail, shouldn’t have been overwhelmingly difficult. As there was another race in a big local series the same weekend, turnout was exceptionally low for the Games, which was good news and bad news for me. Good because I didn’t have the pressure of a really big race for my first one back in several years. Bad because with no one else in my class there was no one to push me and let’s face it, standing on the podium alone kind of made me feel like a fool.  But the truth is, it’s not like I haven’t looked like a fool before, many times, many many times.



Checking out the trail before the race began, I didn’t really note any sections that appeared particularly unnerving. Of course, I didn’t scout the entire 6 miles, so what I thought were the sections where I might have difficulty actually weren’t the problem areas at all! The course began with an ugly climb through the grass from the lower parking area to the upper lot – at least we didn’t have to ride up the paved soapbox derby hill, but I’m not so sure the grass section was any easier at all really. Once at the top, a quick right turn dumped me into tight twisty single-track which wasn’t too bad at first. But as I wound further and further down the trail, I began to worry a bit since I know trails that head down that much eventually have to come back up, and come back up this one did. Then the rollercoaster ride began. Steep root-infested climbs wedging between tight trees, followed by equally steep screaming chutes with level after level of root and rock drop-offs, winding around into high banked turns that immediately twisted back upward. For the first couple of miles, I somehow managed to muster the strength to claw my way up the rooty, twisty climbs and hang on for dear life through the chutes and drops. About midway through the trail, though, my strength quickly began to wane, and I realized the folly of generally only riding about three miles at a stretch back home.



At roughly mile three, I began to fade on the climbs, and was reduced to walking the steepest, rootiest top sections. I still continued to ride the chutes and drop-offs, with the exception of one particularly sketchy looking descent with a nasty root tangle of a drop where I dismounted and jogged instead, opting to give my aching arms and back a bit of relief. I was happy to see bridges constructed over what used to be a scary rocky creek crossing, but the grueling climb that followed remained and I was only able to clean about three-quarters of it before crumbling and humbly walking the top section of that one as well. I got a brief rest when the trail crossed out into the field before climbing back into the last section. I had managed to soothe my bruised pride somewhat by riding down the remaining drop-offs, with the exception of a long stretch of rickety looking rocky “steps” at the top of the last section of trail where I totally chickened out and once again hoisted my bike on my shoulder and ran down.

Once the trail dumped out onto the final grass stretch toward the finish, I hung my head as I crossed the finish line embarrassingly far behind everyone who started in my wave, including the kids in the 10-13 year old age group. Worse, when the results were posted, my lap time was the slowest of the day. Am I disappointed? Absolutely. Do I feel I did the best I could? Honestly, I’m not sure. On the one hand, I’d like to think I did since it would be a shame to enter a race and not leave it all on the course. On the other hand, though, how sad if that really WAS the best I had???  All I do know is that for half the race, I felt like I was gonna die and the other half I was praying for death. It seemed like I spent the entire time on the trail either grinding up painfully rooty steep climbs or being thrown down rickety staircase descents littered with drop-offs every few feet, with no chance to rest hardly anywhere. I don’t recall this trail being so brutal, but then again the last time I rode it, I was a much younger and thinner woman with a lot more fitness than the gal who showed up this weekend. I can only hope that where I am now is not necessarily where I’m destined to remain…

Ten Things

To all my friends who raced the Burn 24 Hour Challenge this weekend, my apologies as I realize this post is a day late and a dollar short for you folks. But since a lot of these tidbits still hold true for me now that I am re-entering the world of mountain biking - despite the fact that I'm easing into it with just a handful of regular cross-country events at first - I wanted to remind myself of them, if nothing else...

Top 10 Things I Learned From Solo 24 Hour Mountain Bike Racing:

10. You CAN stay awake all night if you have to.
9. An encouraging word is worth everything.
8. Coffee is good.
7. A lot of amusing woodland critters come out to play after the sun sets.
6. Good night lights are worth the money.
5. Few things beat fleece.
4. People who have been awake all night get awfully friendly and happy once the sun rises.
3. Never underestimate the importance of a really good saddle.
2. You owe your support crew, big-time.
1. Nothing is impossible if you want it badly enough.

Happy Riding!

It's a Ruff Life

I don't normally make a habit of promoting companies on my blog, but Ruffwear has been a lifesaver for Fry's active lifestyle as a typical adolescent pointer/lab/whippet mix - if there is such a thing as "typical" for such a combination, that is! I felt it was worthwhile to mention some of the fine products we've found for Fry since so many of our friends are always asking about his "wardrobe" and the purpose and functionality of it all.



Steve and I are very active all year long and Fry is our constant companion on mountain bike rides, trail runs, swims, hikes, and wherever else life takes us. With his thin fine hair coat, during the winter Fry needs protection not only from the cold, but also from brushy undergrowth and briars, and his K9 Overcoats have been the ideal solution.



Constructed of a tough and durable, abrasion-resistant material, this jacket has worked so well that we got Fry one in each color. We love the way the chest panel fastens with elastic straps and allows full freedom of movement with absolutely no pinching of Fry's delicate underarm areas.

The panel keeps his tummy protected from brush, and the light fleece lining provides just enough warmth without overheating, even during intense trail running in cooler weather.



As an added bonus, he looks just adorable in them, especially since we had his name embroidered across the back of each one. :-)



Another great addition to Fry's wardrobe has been his Web Master Harness. This works great for leash walks as well as romps through the woods. It has a solid feel and unlike almost every other harness we've tried, our slippery little boy isn't able to wiggle out of this one. LOL. It has two leash attachment areas, one near the back and one up closer to the neck, and also has a nice handle in the middle for assisting the dog over rough obstacles. We haven't had to use it for lift assist yet, though, since we haven't been on any hikes that tough so far and Fry is amazingly athletic to boot.

Like the K9 Overcoats, the Web Master is one tough harness, holding up even to Fry's most ambitious sidetracks through the woods,

and his work as my cycling coach.


It has even worked as a solid support for the GoPro "FryCam"...



When Fry decides to roll in "doggy aromatherapy" on the trail and thus needs a bath on arrival back home, his snuggly fleece Climate Changer makes a terrific bathrobe for keeping him warm and clean while he dries, and he seems to really like the soft feel of it.



As the weather heats up, Fry also has a Swamp Cooler to help keep him cool on those hot summer days - although we do our exercise late in the evenings during those months when the weather gets oppressive.





In addition, Fry has a K9 Float Coat life jacket  for swimming and playing in the lake.



He does love the water, and would swim all day if we let him, and the life jacket allows him to be out on the lake for longer swims without getting too fatigued.  ;-)



A wonderfully handy little accessory has been Fry's Quick Draw Leash.



This is great for those trails where we're likely to encounter hikers or other bikers whose dogs may not be particularly impressed with Fry's sometimes exuberant friendliness, and lets us quickly and easily have him on a leash, yet is completely out of the way and securely fastened otherwise.



Like all Fry's other Ruff Wear, the Quick Draw is one tough customer.



It stays on securely no matter how hard he runs or how ambitiously he plays in the water, and dries quickly without any signs of stinkiness.

Finally, what mountain bike trail running pup wouldn't want his very own hydration pack? Enter the Singletrak, a cool mesh harness pack with two Platypus hydration bladders and convenient small accessory pockets for necessities.



The Singletrak is tough enough to handle any trail, but light and cool enough (especially with ice water in the hydration bladders) for hard running doggies.



We love our active lifestyle and having a dog like Fry who enjoys the outdoors as much as we do is the best part of it all. Fry is one tough pup, and we're thrilled to have found apparel and gear for him that allows him to "Ruff" it in style.

Facing My Fears and Other Foolishness

Aging, gaining weight, adjusting to menopausal metabolism (or more accurately, the lack thereof), aching joints, fatigue, and the depression resulting from all of the above has recently left me feeling lost and without a real sense of purpose or goals. And for someone who spent many years in early adulthood as an endurance mountain biker, this has been a difficult path. I thought I could get through it anyway just doing casual recreational exercise, but after speaking with a friend, I’ve realized I need a definitive goal – something to kick me in the pants and force me to find a reason and develop a concrete plan.  So today I took the plunge and signed up for the State Games of North Carolina mountain bike race in early June. That gives me seven weeks to prepare, and since I will only have to ride one 7.5 mile loop, my goal time is long enough to be somewhat realistic, but short enough that I can’t procrastinate about getting ready.



Despite my previous experience years ago of this being a relatively low-key race, I’m scared this time; no, make that a little terrified. Why? I have no idea. I’ve ridden that course a dozen times, albeit not in many, many years, but enough that I think the familiarity will return once I get there. It’s not an easy course, but not un-rideable by any means, and the only reason I can find for my fear is my own lack of confidence in myself.  I’ve been gradually easing back into mountain biking, riding the local trails, but so far really haven’t ventured much farther than just a few miles at a time on relatively easy loops, with only the occasional small rock or log thrown in. I know that feeling good about how I do at this upcoming race is going to depend, not on how anyone else performs, but whether I do all I’m capable of doing, and this is going to require putting aside my lack of confidence and insecurities about myself. I realize I’m not going to drop that extra 40 pounds in seven weeks, so I’m going to have to work on gaining the strength and fitness to work with where I am at this point in time. I need to develop trust in my abilities and at least try the obstacles that scare me a little, and push myself each ride to pedal just a little bit faster than the last time.



My biggest challenge with attempting to race again at this stage in my life is not the other competitors. It’s my own inner voice telling me I can’t, I shouldn’t, I won’t – and replacing that with I can, I should, I WILL.