Hiking with Poodles- A Galavanting Day-in-the-life with Sojourner

Hiking with Poodles

Before my eyes open, I can feel his breath on my face. His nose pressed as close as he dared without touching my face. He senses I’m awake. My eyes are still closed, but he knows the rhythm of my breathing as though it were his own. I smile. Slowly, I open my eyes, squinting from the bright sun pouring in through my window. It’s barely 7 am, but the Alaska sun is high in the sky.

The land of the Midnight Sun indeed.

As I lay on my side facing the edge of my kind bed, my vision is obscured by the face of my very best friend.

My standard poodle, Sojourner.

I suppose it’s not entirely fair to refer to him by just his call name. Sojourner, after all, is formally known as; Group Winning GCH CH Galavanting The Road Less Traveled. Winning his first group from the bred-by class, and earning his ACK CH in two weekends. What’s more, Sojourner is the sire to the 6-9 month first place puppy bitch from PCA 2023. In short, Sojourner is a promising stud and a consummate show poodle with the attitude and the hair to show for it.

However, none of these titles and accolades mean anything this morning. Today, with his nose centimeters from mine, his tail high and swishing back and forth, his front feet tap dancing on my wood floor, the only thing that matters to Sojourner is that today, he and I have a mountain to conquer!

Before we head to the trailhead, I do a cursory check of the bands in Sojourner’s hair.

Hiking with a show poodle in big hair is not impossible. But it definitely takes some pre-planning. My preference is to band the hair for hiking rather than wrapping the hair. There are no rules for poodle hair and hiking, of course. One of the many joys of this hobby is finding what works best for myself and my poodle. Sojourner’s hair holds well in a series of bands down his neck and back, and down his ears.

We have a weekly tradition, Sojourner and I., our week always ends with his bath and groom. I learned many years ago that doing a hike the day before bath day makes a lot of sense. Today, for example, I know that there is a lake at the top of our mountain. And no part of me worries about Sojourner playing in the cold mountain water. His bath and groom are already on my schedule.

Sojourner is no stranger to hikes.

We’ve been hitting the trails together since Sojourner was only a few months old. He is very familiar with our weekly routine on the trails. Today, Sojourner is well prepared for our three miles up and into the mountain.

He began his training as all poodles should; as a baby puppy. Watching Sojourner now, bounding along the trail as we begin our hike, I am reminded of that baby puppy from a couple of years ago. He would rest in my Osprey Day Hiking Pack at the beginning of our puppy hikes. 30 minutes in the pack as I trekked along and 20 minutes of free play out of the pack. We would explore the dirt, the rocks, the trees, and the forest floor. There are always so many new things for a puppy to conquer on a hiking trail!

Sojourner continued to use my pack until his body was developed enough to travel short distances on his own. His whole first year, our hiking adventures were more about the journey and less about the destination.

Each of those puppy hikes was an opportunity for him to learn. Sojourner learned how to greet fellow hikers, he learned the smells and sounds of the forests and mountains in our area. He learned what other animals live in the backcountry of Alaska and how he would be expected to behave around the wild animals that call these woods their home.

Sojourner and I round the first bend to begin our climb to the summit.

The air is crisp and the sun is warming our bodies even though it is barely 9 am. At well over two years old, he is plenty developed and physically mature for this hike. Sojourner’s first summit was at 18 months old. He was extremely pleased with himself that day and his love of hiking has only increased over the last year of weekly summits.

As we begin our direct ascent, I see Sojourner stop and sniff the air. I pause and take a look around us. It is quiet, save for a few birds calling back and forth to each other. The air is very still. With so much training under his belt from past hikes, I know Sojourner is very familiar with this scent he’s caught. I look around, about three meters off the trail to my right, and I see her. A cow moose enjoying a mid-morning snack of fresh trees and leaves. She sees us too. She side-eyes Sojourner and licks her lips. A very clear, nonverbal signal that she would prefer the big black poodle to move along and stop his staring.

Fair enough. These woods belong to her, after all.

“Sojo! Aquì!” I say these words loud enough for the moose and Sojourner to hear.

This phrase is Sojourner’s urgent recall. A solid recall and a hard stay are two commands I require of every poodle I take to hike. A missed cue in the backcountry can be the impetus for a serious injury or worse. There are few second chances on a trail. I like to train in obedience classes, public parks, and at home before ever trusting Sojourner, or any poodle, in the backcountry.

In this instance, with our cow moose, Sojourner immediately comes to his position by my side. Keeping himself between the pose and my body. We continued our hike at a brisk and deliberate pace as the moose continued to eat. She has read our nonverbal cues clearly; we will keep moving and give her space. But the big black poodle will not leave an opening to allow a threat to his human.

We continue to climb. The ascent is long. This trail is full of switchbacks, ultimately making the climb longer but also allowing for a more natural meander for the poodle. I begin to tire more quickly than Sojourner. As my pace slows, I allow Sojourner some freedom to play and race ahead of me.

“Go play!” I tell him. That’s a favorite cue for Sojourner. It means free time and exploration as we hike. A two-meter stretch is about all I like to see in the distance between us when we hike.

Sojourner is good about checking in with me during our climb.

I acknowledge every check-in with a pet, a word of praise, or a piece of beef jerky from my fanny pack. Even as well-trained as Sojourner is on the trail, I never take for granted the power of a positive incentive for checking in. I want to always remain the most important thing on the trail to Sojourner.

After three miles, we reach the top of our mountain. I stop to breathe in the crisp mountain air. We’ve moved from the trees up into the openness of the mountaintop. The ground is covered in lichen and moss. Blueberry shrubs flood the landscapes. I’m mindful of the bears who enjoy the mountain summit with us. This time of year, bears in Alaska are fat and happy. There are plenty of fish in the waters and berries on the shrubs. The bears aren’t too concerned about hoarding resources on a mountain rich with food.

Even so, Sojourner follows my lead as we stretch our bodies and I settle on to the soft moss at the edge of our mountain lake.

“It’s okay,,” I tell Sojourner as he eyes me cautiously and sniffs the air.

“I think we’re good!”

I can tell by his relaxed body language, tail high and wagging that Sojourner agrees.

Three miles up, not another soul in sight besides his human. Blueberries are ripe for the taking and a cold, clear mountain lake for drinking play.

Yes indeed, Sojourner agrees.

We are good.

This article was published in the Poodle Variety Stud Issue, 2024