Back To A Balance

I’ve never really believed in superstitions. I always trusted in the free will of this world where we are all living a life unplanned, and never truly believed in the “Everything happens for a reason” statement. However, Cullen has started to open my eyes to a much larger aspect of this life I have yet to understand.

Lately life has been pushing and pulling me in several different directions, and the stress of it all was beginning to take a toll on my mental and physical well being. The attempted hike up Isolation Friday was meant to provide me with the open space and seclusion needed to bring things back to a balance, but unfortunately the dangerously snowy and unrelenting trail forced us to turn back just shy of the summit. As we woke today the inspiration to hike was dwindling, and I almost decided to take the day to sit around the house and relax; what a horrible idea that would have been! Thanks to Cullen’s enthusiasm and eagerness to hike I packed up and we made our way to Mt. Zealand.

The hike up was nothing less than perfect. As we ascended Zealand Trail, which was mostly a smooth gravel path until we reached Zealand Falls, we met several different dogs and their humans. Cullen even seemed to befriend a beautiful English Chocolate Lab named Grizzly Bear (he wasn’t as tough as his name sounded). As we continued to make our way, Grizzly Bear decided to depart from his pack of people and hike with us. Cull dog and Grizzly took turns chasing each other down the trail, but Cullen always stopped just before the point where he couldn’t see or hear me. This is when he would end the chase and bolt back as if to tell me that even though he made a new friend I was still his number one.

time spent with our new friend lasted what seemed like only moments. He shortly decided to turn back and continue with his crew. As Cull dog and I continued we quickly reached Zealand Falls and the hut. The waterfalls we absolutely purifying, and as we sat there for a short break I felt some of my tension wash away with the crashing of the river’s torrents. There is so much to be said for resting your mind and body amongst gushing water, iridescent sunshine, whispering winds, and the love of a best friend.

The rest of the hike up the mountain wouldn't be as smooth. As we trekked along a steady rocky incline through a dark forest full of white birch trees mixing perfectly with conifers, giving way to a primeval look and feel, Cullen stayed in the lead motivating me each and every time he gave a look back to check in. “I’m coming big dog” I would say and he would be off, trotting down trail and navigating his way from rock to rock until it was time to check in again.

We reached the Zeacliff outlook in fair time. These views are what made the hike up Zealand worth it, taking in the fact the actual summit is completely surrounded by trees with absolutely no views. The views here provide an indescribable observation over the Pemigewasset Wilderness. The focal point of this vista was without a doubt Mt. Carrigan. Its rounded dome-like summit towers over the rest in the range, and captures your attention with its undemanding magnificence.

As we sat looking out at the diluted colors of greens, reds, and browns and feeling the calm winds brush by  I realized a theme I hadn't yet come to see, mostly due to my ignorance and lack of effort. There was no mistake in that Cullen came into my life just months before the passing of my mother, there was no mistake I pursued the happiness the forest brought him, and there was no mistake he ensured we made our way to the mountains that day. Cullen has been there each and every time I needed, not sympathy or understanding, but companionship, seclusion, and exploration. He has protected me through such dark and fragile times. Always putting himself in the way of my off-putting moments and leading me back to myself. When all is said and done I trust that he was meant to be my friend, planned by something beyond my intellectual capacity. This 16lb Min Pin was meant to be my protector, and I will continue to trail him from path to path because I know he will continue to lead me back to a sense of balance; back to the person I was meant to be.

As I mentioned earlier, life has been steering me in all kinds of directions, and life has a tendency to push and pull now and then, however when that time comes I only wish you all have a friend as committed as I do to lead you onward. 

Mother's Day. Everyday

Mother’s Day is a day to recognize the true beauty our mom’s present and appreciate all that they are. There is no doubt there are many characteristics our mothers have we do not agree with, however seeing past these traits and loving them immensely is what truly matters.

Mother’s Days is not about saying “thanks and I love you” because the look in your eyes and touch of your affection will describe your care for her more clearly, it’s not about buying them a gift because your time and understanding is priceless, and it’s not about taking them out because just having you and seeing your happiness fulfills their souls beyond our comprehension. Take the day to recognize your mother for all that she is.

Therefore, tomorrow we will be hiking to the top of Zealand Mountain to feel the presence of Bonnie J. Witham. A mother lost too soon. This Mother’s Day we will recognize her for the strength, perseverance, patience, discipline, and most importantly her unconditional love.

May you all have the chance to hold tight the ones who gave you this life, who showed you the true meaning of love, and who deserves to be told how special they are everyday of the year; not just one!   

The Eternal Bond Between Man and Animal

This weekend spent in the Whites Mountains will be one to remember. Our goal for the weekend was to reach the summits of both Mt. Adams and Mt. Washington, which are the two highest and most dangerous peaks the majestic White Mountains of NH have to offer.

When we first picked up Cullen he was just this extremely tiny version of a dog. Being the runt of the litter he weighed no more than 4.5lbs, which made me believe he was not going thrive in size. I never could have envisioned him possessing the ability to conquer mountains. However, the truth of it all is that I did not lead Cullen to these mountains; he was the one who guided me.

We ascended Mt. Adams via Lowes’s Path, which was a basic climb. This route is typically considered to be the “easiest” trek up this mountain, but there is nothing simple when hiking in the Presidential Range. The joy we got from having roots, rocks, leaves, and dirt under us was soaring, however, this only lasted for a little bit. The steep mid-section of Lowe’s Path was completely iced over, and once we got above tree line it was a fair mix of snow and rock; a magnificent indication that these mountains are in between seasons.  After three hours, we reached the pinnacle and before I had a chance to summit Adams, Cullen had already claimed his rock where he would sit to appreciate the views. As we sat together atop of Mt. Adams, Cullen pressed up close to my chest, I felt more connected to him than usual. Our eyes were fixed on the Great Gulf of Washington, but my thoughts were of Cullen.



I thought about a puppy too small to jump on a mattress placed on the floor, a puppy who took refuge in a pillow case because he was terrified of vacuums, and a puppy who would nap for hours after a simple two mile walk to the end of the road. Never did I dream that this same puppy would grow into such a powerful soul with the confidence, strength, and loyalty to lead me up mountains. That same puppy has grow to be much more than just a dog to me, he has grown be to my best friend.



That night we went to sleep early, only to wake up the same. Our thoughts now were of Mt. Washington.  As we reached the trail head of Tuckerman Ravine all doubts that I had about this hike were pushed aside by the willingness and readiness of Cull dog. As soon as his paws hit the trail he was boasting such a proud appearance, which gave me the confidence to triumph over this hike up Washington. We seemed to have no trouble with making friends as we made our way to Tuckerman. Countless numbers of people were blown away by Cullen. Many went as far as to stop and take pictures of him, share a snack, or just talk.

As we reached the bowl, where thousands of skiers go every winter to experience the rush of extreme backcountry skiing; I was instantly blown away by the giant sized ravine before me. As we rested our legs and shared some food I found myself both intimidated and attracted to this challenge. In no time at all we were making our way up this hazardous, icy, and gigantic slope. Most people who hike Tuckerman Ravine in winter do so with durable crampons and an ice axe, and there I was with hiking boots, a single cheap trekking pole, and a Miniature Pinscher. Cullen seemed to have no issue with the climb, but I was a totally different story. My legs were quickly weakened and my traction was less than superior. It was in that moment where I wished I was gifted with four legs and built in crampons.



As we reached the top many people were surprised to see Cullen, blown away at the fact a dog his size made his way up a slope that has claimed a number of lives; both dog and man. However, in that moment my blood and emotions were sky rocketed and there was no time for chit-chat. Cullen and I had a summit to reach, and we were both focused on the rocky path ahead. As we approached the vast summit of Washington I couldn’t help but hold Cullen close. We instantly sat together along the roadway and soaked in the views. Our eyes fixed on the ocean of blue skies and endless valleys of mountains before us. At that moment I trust that he understood, just as well as I, that there was nothing else to do but sit, so we sat, together tangled in an eternal bond between man and animal.

 

Without sounding too melodramatic, Cullen is one of the greatest gifts I could have ever received. There was a time, shortly after the early passing of my mother, where I felt so bleak and misplaced. I was engrossed in a darkness that discolored my idea of contentment. However, by simply paying attention to the wants and needs of Cullen I was able to color in that silhouette of happiness I yearned for. By trailing him on his chase for adventure and happiness I was able to find my own. Cullen’s travels led me to the person I wanted to be for the longest time, and all thanks to the extreme compassion, dedication, and patience of one very exceptionally brave little dog.

 

Finding Family

Lately life has been weighing quite heavy on my mind, so I decided we would take the day off and make our way to Mt. Cabot; this being NH’s most northern four-thousand footer. The mountains provided the perfect type of isolation needed to focus on certain thoughts.

Our hike started in a field of snow with the foot prints of past hikers making a clear path to follow. The sky was almost perfectly clear except for a few soft clouds pasted to the morning atmosphere. The sun’s intense warmth was rare for the great northern part of the White Mountains this time of year, but this rarity was deeply welcomed.

(it's a long way up)

As we continued our trek, I was endlessly getting lost in my own thoughts, while at the same time, Cullen was getting lost in all the moose scat and animal markings. Throughout my life I was always distant with my family. Being the youngest raised by a single mom working third shift I never spent much time with them. However, as life progressed my mother was the glue that held our family together. Trying her best to host family dinners and get togethers, and she succeeded quite well at it. However, since her unforeseen passing my connection with the family has diminished, and the need to connect with them is hard to grasp.

I have been criticized by them continuously for my lack of communication and appearances. Yet, the fact remains I was raised in a distant way and the one person who connected me to the rest is now lost.

The elevation gain up Cabot was quite fair, and I didn’t seem to struggle much with this climb. As we reached the summit the wind started to act out, which made the cold slightly uncomfortable. The breeze blowing against my moist clothes made it feel cooler than they truly were.  We took refuge from the chilly air in the cabin at the top. We soaked in the sun’s heat though the windows as we sat and shared a snack. Sitting in the vacant cabin on top of Cabot’s lonesome summit, Cullen’s body heat kept my hands warm enough to journal; I came to accept my place in the family.



We took our time leaving Mt. Cabot. We played like mad on top of that mountain. The joy I get from watching him benefit from the simplest aspects in this life is inexpressible. His outlook on life is something we should all adopt. There is truthfully nothing more beautiful than to live a life where something as simple as spending a day on a mountain’s top fills you with tremendous amounts of joy. I believe if we all took the time to slow down, and escape from this frantic civilization we could learn to appreciate such simple characteristics of the world.



Just a few moments before ending our trip we rested by a few small waterfalls. The company of Cullen and the alluring sounds of water crashing sent me into a deep thought, a thought that only helped me with coming to peace with everything. Family isn’t always the ones whose heart pumps the same blood. What makes our lives full is not the heart within, but the love and loyalty of our closest friends; for they are the ones who keep the heart beating. They are family.

Out of nowhere my train of thought was broken by the full attack of Cullen. His excitement got the best of him, and he attacked me at full force with kisses. As I grabbed him and held him close I couldn’t help but laugh uncontrollably. We made our mark on Cabot’s hillside that afternoon, but not one that is visible to the naked eye, or even explainable; for as long I live I will bear in mind that moment.  

 

Trails and Tribulations

I believe that this life is not made up of just the “good”, but in order for us to live a life much richer we need to experience and embrace hardships. We need to be hard-pressed and challenged, so when our lives are filled with enjoyment we can have a complete understanding of how “good” these precious moments truly are. Without persevering through adversity one can’t have a complete grasp of self identity. How can you know who you are when you have never been pushed to show your true colors? Without that pressure you are living a life that is a half painted masterpiece.

Yesterday’s hike presented us with such a challenge, and through it we unlocked an aspect of our friendship we hadn’t yet found the key to. We started off hiking Mt. Waumbek, a 7.2 mile hike, before the sun’s warmth had a chance to grace our land. Although the early start left me a little bogged, Cullen didn’t seem to be influenced at all. His pace ensured mine did not falter. As we reached the summit, the air still filled with the mornings haze, we quickly shared a snack and then we were off. Both our hike up and descent went quicker than I had originally thought. By 9:15 am we were back at the car restocking for our second hike of the day up Wildcat Mountain; a hike that would open my eyes.

Between the 2:30am early wake and the trek up Waumbek, my body’s strength depleted quicker than I had anticipated. Strangely enough I found myself struggling up the fair elevation gain Nineteen-Mile Brook Trail had to offer, which would only give way to the remorseless Wildcat Ridge Trail. With each step I felt my body grow weaker.

I did my best to stay fueled up by continuously snacking on carbs and fatty foods and drinking water, but nothing did the trick. Due to the snow and cold, Cullen has to keep moving in order to regulate normal body temperature. Min Pins do not take to the cold like other thicker furred breeds. This means my rests are far and few. I only get to stop for a moment or two, just long enough to catch my breath.

Up until the Wildcat Ridge Trail junction the track was packed down well from previous folks snowshoeing. Their prints left us with a well groomed trail to hike. However, from the very start of Wildcat Ridge Trail it was a completely different story. We were left to follow one set of boot prints and, ironically, one set of paw prints. These paw prints being obviously much larger than Cullen’s.

The deep and air-soft white powder drained me rapidly. The snow caved on every step, which on such a dramatic incline made it almost impossible. I felt my body’s strength bottom out, and I was no longer continuing with the use of muscle energy. I found myself running off the will to succeed. The need to accomplish kept one foot in front of the other. However, in such a challenge that same will and need is not always enough. When every step gets harder than the last and every thought is of quitting, you need more. Cullen’s friendship and determination fulfilled that need.

He would continuously turn back to check in on me. Without the need of verbal communication his eyes told me everything I needed. That’s the beauty of friendship. When one is weak the other is strong, and will lead you through privation, all without having to speak one word. The purity in the eyes can give you all the motivation and strength needed to overcome. For that is exactly what he had done on the mountain. That day his fortitude would lead me over 6 peaks (2 being 4k), through 18miles, and 10 hours of hiking.

I know Cullen’s physical strength will diminish, and his time on this planet will someday come to an end, but the lessons he has taught will last well beyond my days.

Life isn’t meant to be easy. We all must experience adversity, and at times you find each step getting harder than the last, but trust that a true friend will be there by your side. This friend will push you and provide you with the energy and strength your body lacks. Today’s pain shines new light on tomorrow’s pleasures, and helps define who we are. This pain will help reveal what is truly important in life. Never let these moments pass by, but grasp them with both hands and hold tight; For they are what makes us who we are.  

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His loyalty, his love, and his strength of mind...

What a special Friday spent backcountry boarding. Yesterday delivered us the kind of excitement you can only get when you break through walls you thought were unbreakable. Never underestimate the power of friendship and the obstacles that can be tackled when you have the support of your closest companion (no matter how big, small, human, or animal).

There are only a few slopes Waterville Valley closes to the people who pay for their tickets, and leave untouched and un-groomed for those who decided to hike up, which was only us that day! This isn’t exactly acceptable for the ski resort, but Cullen and I have a hard time following rules sometimes. We spent a while on this slope before eating some lunch, where we took the time to gaze at the attractive outlook before us. This spot presented a direct look at the Tripyramids, Mt. Osceola, and Mt. Kancamagus. It was in that moment where I realized something I hadn’t yet come to understand.

I have always appreciated these mountains, not just for their beauty, but for their spirit. I believe that these mountains are just as alive as we are, or in some cases, more alive. They pose a wisdom that exceeds our awareness. Their greatness and splendor span out much further than the clearest view from the highest summit. However, what I came to recognize this day was that a 16lb Min Pin, whose size and breed should be easily over showed by these dignified mountains, grew to be larger and nobler than them all. Obviously he is not physically bigger, but the spirit he poses is too large for me to grasp. His loyalty, his love, and his strength of mind continue to grow with each day.

However, watching him yesterday running up and down these mountain sides I saw the kind of spirit that I could only dream of possessing. I will forever live in these moments where the smile of his face expresses more happiness than any materialistic gift could bring and the look in his eyes shines brighter than the sun its self. To boast such radiance is something we should all strive for, because even during the darkest days our world will be full of such clarity.

He has shown me that this life is not meant to be perfect, but perfection is meant to be strived for. He has shown me that love, loyalty, willpower, and character can always continue to grow. All we have to do is live…. truly live.



If You’re Lucky Enough Things Never Go As Planned

As I stepped outside, the morning air cool to my skin, I listened to the gentle river beyond the motel. While I waited for Cullen to finish with his early morning business, I couldn't help but lose myself in the blackened morning. I knew that in just a few hours we would officially be returning to the mountains and our new hiking season would be on its way. Our original goal for the weekend was to bag two peaks, Mt. Moriah and Mt. Wildcat, however if you’re lucky enough things never go as planned. The weekend of hiking taught me that teamwork is everything, and without it we would not get to experience all the beauty this world has to offer.

As we began our first hike up Moriah, via Stony Brook, I felt as though this winter had never laid us off. We were right back to doing what we love most. Cullen was back to himself trotting proudly through the forest with strong poise. Most of the trip up we were overshadowed by the thickness of the snow covered hemlocks, making the morning air even cooler. However, the coolness would soon fade and I was peeling layers off and Cullen would trade his snowsuit for a thin camouflage jacket. Due to the fact we passed most of the people snowshoeing their way up, our hike got a little bit more difficult. I didn’t pack my snowshoes, which I regretted as we approached the stunted woods near the top. The soft deep snow made each step feel pointless. This gave us no choice but to find our mountain legs in rapid time. Although, I don’t think Cull dog had any issue with this, seeing him gallop through the air soft powder turning back to check on me repeatedly.



Although I seemed to struggle reaching the summit of Moriah, there was no shameful feeling of doubt within me. I knew I would reach the summit. I was certain because I had the greatest kind of friend to motivate me. The kind of friend who only needs to look you in the eye to provide you with enough power to move mountains, or in my case reach the top of one. As we reached the summit I took my pack off as fast as possible. My eyes couldn’t comprehend the beauty displayed in front of us. No words I could write will ever be able to describe the magnificence of the snow covered mountains that day. The sky was as clear as the air we breathed, the sun provided more than welcoming warmth, the views stretched out further than my eyes could follow, but the little dog sitting before me made this moment whole. Without the sight of him with me, the experience would have been half as great.

As we sat on an open ledge overlooking the noble Presidential Mountains and the Carters I knew that this was the kind of memories that last a lifetime. No words spoken between us, just each other’s company was more than sufficient. The views before me were more than breath taking, but I didn’t find myself drawn to them. I was lost in a soft body of fur smelling of a sweet, musk-like rustic scent, and listening in on the small breathes entering and exiting two little lunges. I was drawn to Cullen more so than I ever had been. Having no idea of the time spent on this ledge our connection was broken by a nice older man, who I would ask to take a photo of us; a photo that would later bring tears to my eyes.



After we finished chatting  the man continued his unhurried pace to the top as Cull and I went all out on our decent. I found that he loves it when we run and go a little wacky on the way down. So, as I howled complete randomness we descended Mt. Moriah in a hasty fashion returning to the company of the women we love most. We rested our legs and swiftly fell asleep.

Waking early the next morning I felt myself a little apprehensive about hiking. Due to the fact I originally planned on hiking one peak, which would have been a 9.8 mile hike. I found myself packing up for a 12 mile hike. Cullen and I would attempt to reach the summits of Carter Dome, South Carter, and Middle Carter. Not quite sure I was up to it Cullen convinced me otherwise. His spirit was full of readiness, jumping up in complete excitement and scratching his back paws as though he were a charging bull gearing up for full attack. This transformed my apprehension to anticipation, and I couldn’t wait until I saw him grace yet another summit. We ended up finding our way to all three summits that sunny Sunday morning, and enjoyed the company of the neighboring mountains, the whispering winds, and most importantly each other.

The forest secretly spoke of spring to those who chose to listen close enough; with every drip of an icicle, with every thud from a clump of snow released from a pine branch, and with the muted crash from the brooks still being plastered in snow and ice. We sat upon our fourth and final mountain of the weekend, Cullen once again was able to open my eyes to something else. As this little 16 lb dog sat before me gazing into the outstretched valleys below I saw him as an equal more than ever. We always refer to our dogs as “he’s mine” or “I own that dog”, but the truth is I do not own Cullen. He is not a piece of property, such as this computer I am typing on. I give him the ability to make his own decisions, and those decisions continue to lead him back to me. Cullen is more of a friend, brother, and partner. He pushes me forward when I think I have had enough and he comforts me when I have had enough. This dog and I do not make it to the top of mountains because we work separately, but because he has shown me that becoming truly selfless creates an indestructible bond; it creates an unmatchable team.

So, as we sat on Middle Carter Sunday afternoon, our 4^th peak in 2 days, I thanked him. I held him close, feeling his warmth against my face, smelling that sweet musk-like rustic scent once again, and whispered “thank you for all that you are” and just after I said such words he slowly closed and then re-opened his eyes, for much longer than a standard blink. His eyes told me everything.

A dog can be much more than a pet if given the chance. He can become your partner, and through teamwork you can experience great things. He can lead you to places you never though achievable, but the trick is to work as one. To let him work with you, not for you; for true friendship is never true if controlled. Once you find that companionship with your dog there will be no need for a leash or a fence, the support of your bond is what will keep him close.