A Dog’s Backcountry Adventure

The air smells different out here—crisp, clean, and full of pine. I can smell the earth, the trees, and something else, too—something wild, something big, moving through the forest. My paws sink a little into the dirt as I walk beside them—my humans. They don’t seem to understand how excited I am. Maybe it’s because I’m the one who’s been dreaming of this adventure for what feels like forever.

There’s a trail here, just like the ones I sniff out on walks in the city, but it’s more… wild. It feels like we’re walking in a giant, untamed backyard where everything smells new, where every turn might reveal a new friend (or a squirrel, which is almost as good as a friend, but way faster).

My ears perk up as we start to move deeper into the trees. The birds are loud, but I don’t mind them. I like their chatter—it’s like they’re welcoming me into their world. The crunch of gravel underfoot turns into soft, damp earth, and I stretch my legs a little more, feeling the freedom in every stride. I can run if I want. I will run, but not yet. There’s a certain magic to this place.

The humans stop for a moment, fiddling with their packs. I sit, waiting patiently, my tail wagging. I don’t know exactly what they’re doing, but I can tell it’s important. They talk a lot about “camping” and “setting up” things. I’ve heard that word before. It’s something they do when they want to be in the forest and not walk anymore, which is a bit of a mystery to me. But okay, if they want to take a break, I’ll take one too.

I glance over my shoulder and see a flicker of movement—something small and brown darting between the trees. I freeze, every muscle tensed, my nose flaring. It’s a squirrel. I can feel it in my bones, and the chase begins in my head.

But no. I sit back down, my tail thumping against the ground, a reminder that the humans are my pack. And they seem happy when I stay close. So, I’ll wait. For now. The squirrel will be there tomorrow.

The day goes on, and we hike deeper into the backcountry. My paws are getting dirty, but I like that. It feels real. Every step feels like part of something bigger. I see a patch of wildflowers, and I can’t resist—I roll in them, kicking up a bit of pollen and dust. It makes them laugh. The humans laugh at almost everything I do, which is a good thing, I think.

Thoughts:

-So many new trails. I lead the way, of course.

-A chipmunk just yelled at me from a log. Rude.

-Found a stick. Carried it for 3 miles. I am a hero.

Eventually, we make it to the lake. The water is so still it looks like glass. I take a deep breath and smell the cool, fresh scent of the mountains, the water, and the deep woods. I dip my paws in tentatively. It’s colder than I expected, but once the chill hits, it feels good. My whole body tingles, and I’m ready to swim.

Thoughts:

-This forest is amazing.

-I must sniff every inch.

-Do trees always smell this good? Or are these special camping trees?

-They set up a tent. I supervise by standing directly on the blanket they’re trying to lay out. Very helpful.

I take a few steps back, run, and leap into the water. The splash makes them all gasp and laugh, and I feel proud of myself. The cold water is invigorating, and I swim around, trying to fetch a few sticks, but they’re too far out. I paddle deeper into the lake, feeling like I could swim forever. But eventually, I decide I’m tired.

I climb out of the water and shake myself dry—water flying everywhere. The humans laugh again. They’re always laughing when I’m around, and I’m happy for that.

Thoughts:

-I love water.

-I love water.

-Did I mention I LOVE WATER?

Thoughts mid-jump:

-I am flying.

-I am a seal.

-I might also be a dolphin

I curl up beside the fire, belly full, stars above. The world is quiet.

Final thought before sleep:

“I wish this was every night.”

Back at camp, I find a sunny patch and nap like I’ve worked a full-time job. Because I have. And I’ll dream of this place every night, until we return!! Night falls soon after. The fire crackles, and the stars start to peek through the trees. I curl up on a blanket, my eyes flicking between the dancing flames and the vast sky above. The smells of the forest mix with the warm scent of the fire, and I breathe them in, letting them fill me up. It’s quiet here, the kind of quiet that feels like a secret. The kind of quiet that feels like home.

I close my eyes, the cool air brushing against my fur. I think I might have dreamed about this place once, a long time ago. Maybe this is what I was born for—this wildness, this adventure, this peaceful stillness. Tomorrow, we’ll go further. Maybe we’ll find a new trail, a new river, or maybe another squirrel to chase (though I don’t really need to catch it to be happy).

For now, though, the fire crackles, and my humans are all around me, safe and warm. The night settles in. I rest my head on the soft ground, drift into sleep, and dream of running through these wild, beautiful woods forever.

Thoughts:

-Fire is cozy.

-Fire also means snacks.

-Marshmallow? No, wait, that’s too sticky. I'll just take the hot dog. Gently. When no one's looking.

I curl up beside the fire, belly full, stars above. The world is quiet.

Life is good. Life is perfect.

Woof.

Last Day – Heading Home. As we pack up, I sit by the fire pit, looking around like a philosopher.

Thoughts:

I chased butterflies here.

I discovered pinecones.

I was free.

But I know we’ll come back. My leash smells like trees now. The car smells like damp fur and adventure.