The Road Less Traveled

Another glorious Montana day began frosty and cold, but warmed to a languid spring afternoon. The pond we've been hiking past started the morning covered with a slim layer of ice which Nicholai declined to break. Later, as I hiked the route for a second time with Isabella (nursing a sprained wrist, she needed a solitary hike to curb her manic tendency to overdo in the company of other dogs) the pond had thawed completely.

The hike from my sister's back door is immediately steep, challenging calf muscles, lungs, and heart. Even Nicholai pants with effort as we climb. But soon, we reach the saddle and are greeted with panoramic sweeping views.

I grew up in Montana and this landscape is second nature to me, even after twenty years in the lush Pacific Northwest. No ferns, no moss, no understory at all here, just golden brown grasses, evergreen trees and the famous Big Sky.

I hiked long before Nicholai and I will hike after him. But for the time being, he provides shape, tenor, and tone to our outings. His protective streak dictates early departures so we avoid crowds. Gone are the days of chatty stops at dog parks, replaced by solitary jaunts on paths less traveled. Nicholai's protective nature affords me confidence and the sense of safety to forge out alone.

I adore the time I spend with Izzy. She's a dog-park kind of dog, reliably friendly to man, woman, child, and beast. No need to scan the horizon for the possible approach of company. No need to duck off the main road or find an unpopulated area for recreation. Though Nicholai will work with me to accommodate city parks, city streets, and populated trails by walking pleasantly on leash and focusing on me when necessary, it's free-running, free-roaming treks I long for; the kind of cutting off the trail, climbing up the hill, straying into adventure, leash-less meanderings my Montana youth knitted into my bones and soul.

With Nicholai, I've stood often, contemplating two roads diverging in the woods. With him, I've taken the road less traveled, and that – to borrow from Frost – has made all the difference.