Denali: the Wolf Dog

Something I've learned over the years is to not set expectations about how things will go- how a trip will pan out, how a work meeting will run, what a new place will be like. My experiences are always better when I'm open and receptive to any possibility. This fall, I had to relearn my own lesson. I had three weeks off in between jobs, and made the mistake of setting expectations for it: I envisioned leisurely days filled with yoga, massages, napping, and cooking. Instead, I found myself quarantined in my own apartment subsisting off emergency canned goods. No, I wasn’t on house arrest. We adopted a dog!

Even though we had been looking at dogs for several weeks and talking about it for years, it seemed to all happen so fast. We saw a picture of an adorable little wolf dog online and went to the animal shelter the next day to meet her. She was a rambunctious, nine-month old siberian husky. When she laid down and let us pet her and give her belly rubs, we were sold. She was scheduled to get spayed the next day so we had one night to get supplies and dog proof our entire apartment. We raced around to multiple pet stores and eventually procured the essentials. We also decided on a new name for her: Denali. 

Meeting Denali for the first time at the animal shelter

The first few days the learning curve was steep. Denali wasn’t supposed to do any intense exercising because of the surgery, but she had so much energy. She smacked her plastic cone of shame into steps, fences, the ground, until it eventually cracked in two places. Plus, Owen was at a motorcycle competition those first two days so I was on my own. I wasn’t sure what she’d do in the apartment if I left her alone, so I didn’t leave. We were running very low on groceries and it was a rough couple days.

Resting up after surgery

The next few weeks, things improved drastically but she still wasn’t supposed to do any intense exercising. Instead, we took her on walks, so many walks. One day we racked up nine miles. Owen and I literally injured ourselves trying to walk with her enough to burn off her energy. He got shin splints and I started getting plantar fasciitis and had nerve issues in my arm. Now, we’ve had her for about two months and are loving our new adventure buddy. We've taken her hiking, trail running, camping, and she even flew to NJ with us for the holidays. Adopting her was the biggest risk we’ve taken in a long time, but I am so glad we went for it. 

Exploring the water during a camping trip

Checking out Owen's National Guard Armory

Shaking out our legs during a road trip

So back to that break of mine- luckily I was able to fit in a few trips before we adopted Denali. My first trip, a solo excursion to Yosemite, didn’t go quite according to plan. I had a great hike to North Dome, but when I drove into Yosemite Valley to camp, I encountered a hiccup. The campgrounds were closed due to high winds. I was too tired to drive home and didn’t want to camp outside the park, but luckily there was a third option. According to a piece of paper tacked to the campground office, for one night only the park was letting stranded campers sleep in their cars in various spots around the valley. Now, that might not seem too appealing to most people, but I noticed one designated area was along the road below El Capitan, which sounded like it might be cool. Turns out it was way better than staying in a campground. As I cooked my dinner in a meadow below El Cap, the stars came out and the headlamps of climbers on the rock face turned on one by one, until there were maybe 20 lights scattered across the rock. Even as the temperature plummeted, I sat there for hours, mesmerized by it all.

Approaching North Dome

Fall in Yosemite Valley

I’m ashamed to admit that for all the camping and backpacking I’ve done, I had never actually built a fire myself. I blame Owen, the fire master, who always takes the lead. That changed during another short solo trip I did in Big Sur. Armed with a bundle of wood, some kindling, and a lighter, I was determined to build my own fire once and for all. The first few minutes were shaky: my kindling would not stay lit and I started giving up hope. But then I unleashed my secret weapon: hand sanitizer. I doused it over the kindling and my luck turned. When I finally got the fire roaring, I felt like a cavewoman. Big Sur has been a testing ground of sorts for me for other things too. Earlier this fall I went on a solo backpacking trip, my second time ever to do so. There were steep hill climbs, unrelenting heat, and mosquitos but also the most amazing ocean views.

Limekiln State Park: Testing grounds for my fire making skills

Timber Top Camp

Enjoying my solo adventure

Now, it's officially winter in CA, but winter for Owen and I really started back in late September, when we got caught in our first snowstorm of the season while backpacking in the Ansel Adams Wilderness. You know the trip is off to a good start when there are 50 mph winds on the first night. We lost the trail, then we lost each other for a bit. It was one of those trips where it's so cold, you go to bed at 5pm. We knew there were hot springs a short drive from the trailhead, so the second day we decided to end our trip early and head to the hot springs. No regrets there!

Thousand Island Lake

A fresh dusting of snow in the eastern Sierra

Sweet relief at the hot springs

We're settling back into CA after two weeks in NJ for Christmas. Denali was in heaven getting lots of attention from our families and playing with all our little nieces and nephews, including three-year-old Antonio who decided "she's a wolf, not a dog." I can't wait to see what adventures are in store for us in 2020!

First hike of the new year