Y'all know I'm a mountain boy. Not a mountain man, just a boy. I would 100% prefer to be high up in the mountains than anywhere else. The only reason I don't stay in the mountains is too many of the people I love aren't similarly afflicted. So I play the mountain hobo on occasion and a lowland chump the rest of the time. And if I get to be in the mountains only some of the time, you can bet I'm going to only the best places.
I've been to this place a bunch of times before. This was at the end of July and the lake was still almost completely frozen. That's my kind of place. It sits in a north facing bowl with towering cliffs to the west and east so it holds winter far longer than just about any other place at this elevation.
Tink loves it, too. Of course she does. She gets to be off leash for the best parts because the trail ends and there are smells to smell and rocks to climb and snow to enjoy. She's the mountain dog to my mountain boy.
Down at the lake, we found some living snow and took measurements for SCIENCE!. The lake was just coming out of the shade (at about 10am) and a rock on the far side just begged to be sat upon. There were no bugs so we lounged a bit before deciding to head back up and then down, down, down.
However, on the way up, Tink took an unexpected detour down. Yes, she regularly runs up and then down and then back up again. This time she just disappeared. This isn't too unusual as she loves diving into the brush and then popping out. Except there was no brush. I thought I could hear her whining, but it wasn't at all clear where she was.
This is the part of the story where I talk about how important it is to be prepared if you're taking your dog into the mountains.
Longtime readers will remember Treen, our dog right before Tinkham. Treen was amazing until one day she just lay down on the trail and couldn't get back up. I carried her on my shoulders down 1,000 feet of a rocky, sketchy trail. That led to us getting involved with Fido Pro and their Airlift dog rescue harness. No, don't worry. Tink wasn't hurt requiring evac. Still, I was glad to be carrying the Airlift.
You also might remember we've experimented with tracking devices. I continue to believe any off-leash dog must be tagged and trackable. Unfortunately, there is no perfect tracking solution.
I loved the Fi tracker, but it required cell service. If we were in town, it'd be perfect. In the mountains, not so much. AirTags are cheap and the battery lasts forever. Downside? It needs to be close enough to an iPhone to be useful. Again, great in town, but less good when you're alone in the mountains. Tink has an AirTag bolted to her collar so if she gets out the yard or makes it back to the trailhead without me where others might help her get home. (She also has the usual chip in her shoulder that can be read by a vet.)
The latest tool we've been using is from Findster. It's a two-piece system. One piece is attached to Tink's collar. It has a GPS and radio that is claimed to transmit as far as three miles. The other piece is the receiver that I carry. It talks to my phone so I can see the location of the transmitter on a map. The biggest limitation for the Findster setup is battery life. The Fi tracker lasted about a month on a single charge. Her AirTag has lasted more than a year. The microchip isn't even powered. The Findster pair gets a couple of days at best.
People say the best camera is the one you have with you. Borrowing from that, the best tracking system is the one on your dog that works where you are. I was able to use my phone to get a direction and distance to Tinkham. She was at the base of the cliff to the east. As I got closer to that side, I could hear her whining. Not whining in pain, but whining in frustration.
Stinky had fallen (or more likely jumped) into the moat between the snow and the rock wall. (A moat is a gap between the rock and the snow that forms as the snow melts back from the wall.) Her attempts to get out had only wound her lower down the slope as she slipped on smooth rock. To be fair, she probably could have gotten out on her own eventually, but I gave her guidance to get back up slope far enough that I was able to grab her collar and pull her out.
Did she learn a lesson? Was she more cautious? Duh. No. She's a dog. She immediately resumed sprinting back and forth across the tight valley to ensure she got the full experience.
The rest of our exit was uneventful. There were people at the end of the trail, but that was to be expected. Tink went back on leash for the four miles from the lakes to the trailhead. We hopped in the car and I decried the heat and I already missed the snow we'd found higher up.
If you're taking your pup into the mountains, be sure you have a way to track them and get them home if they get hurt.
📍On the lands of the Wenatchi people.
