The Joy of the Trail

 

“Because of the dog's joyfulness, our own is increased. It is no small gift. It is not the least reason why we should honor as well as love the dog of our own life, and the dog down the street, and all the dogs not yet born. What would the world be like without music or rivers or the green and tender grass? What would this world be like without dogs?” 
― Mary Oliver, Dog Songs: Poems

As some of you know, it's been a difficult year. Not everything--and certainly not everyone--has made it so. Personally, I do not want to walk into the future lugging this bag of anger and negativity. I'm leaving it on the trail. This trip to Minnesota is all about reconnecting with my people--those who have been a part of my journey--and moving forward. 

Waab, Pluto, and I beginning our adventure

Last evening, two people I have missed came to my camper to visit--Lynn and Shelly Safranski. Lynn is very good friends with an ex of mine, and that's how I met him and his wife Shelly. Shelly and I were becoming close...but then the relationship with my ex unraveled. 

Although we haven't talked for many years and hadn't seen each other for about 15 years (when we randomly ran into each other at a casino), we've somewhat kept in touch on FB. When I knew I'd be traveling close to where they live, I thought it would be good to reconnect, so I found a spot to camp that's about 15 minutes from their house. 

Over the course of a 4-hour visit, we caught up a bit (turns out a lot of big and little stuff happens in fifteen years). Talking with them was as easy as it always had been. You know a friendship is solid when it just feels nice to spend time together without awkwardness. Shelly brought this bomb-ass chicken dumpling soup that we had for supper and gave me a stash of strawberries from her garden. I did my best to reciprocate with a loaf of rhubarb bread.

Today is Day 3 of my extended trek into Minnesota, the land I was born to. In addition to this state being home to many people I love, the land and everything on it--the trees, the grasses, and the flowers--all feel like home. 

Pluto and I checked out Old Mill State Park. I drove through the campground area, which was really pretty...but there wasn't a soul in it. The entire park itself is, in fact, not staffed. The park is also fairly remote. That did not feel like a safe place to camp alone, so I think I'm better off where I'm at. They did have some beautiful woodland and prairie trails there, though. 

Middle River in Old Mill State Park

I would like to think that the earth here remembers me; when I put down my offering at the beginning of today's hike, I thanked her for the grace and beauty she's shown me and the kindness of strangers and comfort of friends I haven't seen for many, many years. The answer was a breathy breeze of acknowledgment.

After that greeting, Pluto and I proceeded to hike about 4 miles of trails through woods and prairie. Hiking with him is a lot of fun--he sniffs random things, which makes me pause and look around to take in the moment and the scene around us. He becomes excited and pulls towards what makes him curious, hauling me in tow. Could I tell him to slow down and back off? Absolutely...and if it's dangerous or otherwise inappropriate, I do. Sometimes, he just stops and looks at me with what seems to be an expression of happy gratitude. Maybe he's mirroring the way I feel, because I am grateful for such a great hiking partner. 

The smiles say it all: we love this life!

Today, Pluto and I hiked the trails for about 3 hours until he led me back to the pickup. 

I don't know what this world would be like without dogs, and I hope to never find out. 

Hiking a trail at Icelandic State Park (Cavalier, ND)