going to the dogs

This is totally going to be a Milton-appreciation post.  We went down to Moab, very last minute: H texted me around noon on Thursday, saying that it looked like he would only need to be on-call for Friday so we should head down that night.  I emailed my boss to say I wouldn't be in Friday, grabbed a bunch of work that I could do off-site, and we headed out of dodge.   

Are we there yet?

The skies had cleared a bit on Friday, which was nice.  We worked all morning and then, once I had my hours in, Milton and I went off for a quick Hidden Valley hike so he could work off some fidgets.  For it being as late as it was, the trailhead parking lot wasn't packed.  We made quick work of the hike, pausing at the pass to share water and dog biscuits with other hikers, as well as to tell them how to find the pictographs and make a lollipop loop out of the hike.  We met a couple of other dogs on the return trip and by the time we were back at the car, Milton had run around enough to tire himself out.  That boy does not know the meaning of "pace yourself."

Watching for rabbits

Sunday, H wanted to do some town errands so Milt and I went off to MOAB Brand trails for another quick calorie-burner.  The skies were only a little hazy and it seemed a little warmer.  We headed north out of the parking lot to connect with the lower loop of the North 40 trail.  H and I haven't ridden it yet because it seemed more technical that I'm comfortable with.  After walking it, I can confirm that the technical spots are indeed technical, but that there's also a fair amount of flowy single-track, so we may just have to check it out.  Milton ran a LOT, after furry critters and lizards, and even though my mileage wasn't that high, his was and he - once again - overdid it enough that he had to lie down in the shade a couple of times to cool off.  Back at the car, however, after all the water he could drink and fortified by dog cookies, he perked up enough to keep a watchful eye on all the other MTBers and dogs.

Lemme just rest here a minute, okay?

That afternoon, at H's very good suggestion, we packed up sandwiches and pretzels and dog cookies and our books and (of course) beer, and went up to the Slickrock Trail parking lot for a picnic.  After just a few minutes, one of the covered picnic tables opened up and we claimed it for our own.  Sitting right next to the trail entrance gave us a good vantage point to check out all the bikes, and when a solo rider asked if he could share the shade, we gave him our extra water and chatted with him until his riding buddies showed up: an hour later, having been picked up out on the Slickrock trail by a Jeep guy.  The MTBers were all from Kentucky and the combination of heat, altitude (compared to Kentucky) and trail rating was more than they expected.  They were in Moab for a week and one of them was already planning to come back with his family. 

Keeping an eye on the parking lot shenanigans