Enjoying The Ride

It's been a slow process trying to regain years of lost fitness and bike handling skill, but after several months of heading out to the trail almost daily, on albeit slow and short rides, I'm finding that old joy gradually but surely coming back.

With the assistance of course of my constant biking companion, Fry, I'm quickly gaining confidence on sections of trail that had previously always unnerved me.

Even on the hardtail, I'm finding it easier to relax because riding is fun for me again.

It almost feels like floating sometimes...

Or gliding...

And nothing beats having my best buddy at my side. :-)

The Sweetest Thing

Our little Fry never ceases to amaze me. When Steve and I arrived back home from our trail run with the little man this evening, we saw that one of our neighbors had gotten a new 9-week-old Boxer puppy named Beanie and had her out to meet everyone. Fry, being the social butterfly that he is, of course wanted to meet her too, so we walked over for a visit. The two of them got along immediately, so we invited Beanie over to our fenced back yard to play. Even though Fry, at 48 pounds, is significantly larger than Beanie, he was the absolute perfect gentleman and played so gently with her.

They ran around the yard, and Fry showed Beanie how to chase a ball, He tried to teach her how to pick the ball up by its handle, but she was still a bit too small to do that yet, so he just patiently waited while she pushed it around.

Beanie jumped and climbed all over Fry and he was perfectly happy to let her use him as a Jungle Gym, rolling around on the ground with her, and then very sweetly guiding her back to her feet with his front paws when she flopped over.

I was amazed at how sweetly Fry played with the little puppy, demonstrating the softest "Lab mouth" I've ever seen. He reminded me so much of the way our precious Zoe used to play so gently with little doggies.

Since Fry is much quicker and stronger than Beanie, when they ran around the yard in a game of chase, he made sure to allow her to "catch" him often and happily let her dictate most of the play, never getting annoyed or irritable, no matter how much she climbed on him, barked or play-growled. This is the first time we've seen Fry interact with a baby puppy this young and I'm so proud of my sweet, gentle, patient boy - he really is a treasure.

Fry Goes to the Gravity Nationals

Less than a week after the practice camping run, it was time for the real thing. Fry's first big camping trip would be to Beech Mountain, North Carolina for the 2012 USA Cycling Gravity Nationals Mountain Bike Downhill Championship race. This trip, running Thursday through Sunday, July 19-22, would offer our days and three nights of all kinds of new sights, sounds, dogs, people and activities.

Since Steve would be racing on Friday, it would be up to me to manage Fry during Thursday practice and Friday morning's race, and I was glad his first camping experience had been a positive one that would hopefully carry over to this trip as well. Fry did great on the drive up and was an excellent traveler during the ride, the rest stops and even the extremely tight twisty mountain road up to the top of Beech Mountain. On arrival, we found a nice spot in the lot designated for race camping - Parking Lot #3 - got the Rockwood trailer set up and opened the top half of the door so Fry could survey his new "home" for the next few days.

Beech Campsite

I was glad I decided to bring Fry's fleece jacket and rain coat, since the weather was significantly - and pleasantly - cooler than the high 90 to 100 degree temperatures we've been enduring for the past month or so at home. In fact, it wasn't long after we got our campsite set up that a storm began approaching.

Storm Approaching

Within minutes, a few "splats" of huge raindrops turned quickly into a downpour. I must admit, though, our little camper was quite cozy during the storm and I was more than happy to not be in a tent...

Rain

Even Fry seemed to think the camper was cozy in the rain.

Cozy

Likely a result of all the newness and excitement, Fry had a restless night Thursday, but wished his Daddy good luck in his race Friday morning.

Good Luck!

Steve headed out early to catch the ski lift ride to the start line, and Fry and I walked up shortly after, to find a comfortable spot near the last rock drop before the finish line to take some pictures of the amateur riders.

Watching the Amateurs

Steve managed to take seventh place in his class! Looks like the collar bone is doing well, thank goodness.

Steve Taking Seventh Place!

And since Fry was donning his glorious green multi-stripe collar from If It Barks, he naturally had to have his photo taken with "The Green Guy"...

Fry and The Green Guy

After the amateur races were complete, Ryan brought Fry's best girl, Farlow, over for a visit.

Fry and Farlow

And then Fry relished in being the center of attention with lots of petting.

Center of Attention

Finally, after a long day of meeting bunches of new friends and walking all around the race venue, Fry decided it was time for a nice long nap back at the campsite.

Nap Time

After a good rest, Fry was ready to go for a long fun hike with his new friend, Morris. Mark and Steve let Mo and Fry play in the creek after watching a little of the dual slalom.

Fry and Mo at the Creek

Then the five of us walked up a good bit of the Pro course to watch the pro racers practice and to let the pups get some exercise as well.

Fry and Morris

And it was time for another doggy nap.

Resting

Fry had already seemed to start settling in to a happy routine. He was great meeting new people, even if still a bit hyper excitable on first seeing other dogs. He was very reliable, though, about staying at his own campsite and seemed to enjoy helping Daddy with the grilling. :-)

At the Campsite

He seemed to very quickly accept the camper as his home-away-from-home and would frequently go inside of his own accord, either to lie down on the bed or just watch the world go by from the doorway.

Watching

Of course, on occasion he also enjoyed hanging out with us under the shade tent, either standing next to us or lying on his cushioned mat.

Fry and Daddy

But he also had no qualms about nabbing an unoccupied camp chair...

Fry in the Camp Chair

We walked up part of the mountain to watch some of the pro qualifying runs, and Fry was my superb photography assistant.

Photographer's Helper

He had a blast watching the riders jump the rocks exiting out of the woods...

Watching the Riders

And always let me know when the next rider was approaching from the upper rock garden.

Rider Up!

All in all, I'd say Fry's first big multi-night camping trip was a success and he's definitely a wonderful vacationing companion.

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…