Hunter Canyon

It's no secret that my favorite place to walk the dogs is Hunter Canyon. It's two miles away, little used, and scenic. I'd rather take the dogs there than walk them around the neighborhood where all the other dogs go nucking futs and bark at us two blocks away. The only issues with Hunter Canyon are the target shooters and the USBP that may be active there.

Today I took all four dogs with me in the van. All four jumped out and for almost a half mile they trotted next to the van. Even Sara jumped out, and because of her I drove extra slow. She's almost ten years old and doesn't have the energy she once had to trot three miles during her walking sessions.

There was no one around at 12:30pm when we got to the shooting area. The dogs walked around and sniffed the trees when shortly after our arrival another van pulled up. The dogs were all off-leash so I immediately rounded them up. They didn't bark and neither did the driver come out right away. When he did, the dogs remained calm and that put me at ease. It turned out that Mike, a tall, retired bricklayer from Michigan, loves dogs and has lived in the next canyon over for four years. He comes to Hunter Canyon several times a week to shoot his .22 pistol. He also visits Ash Canyon with his metal detector and revealed some of his high-value finds doing that. I had never seen him before, and maybe that's because I normally go to Hunter Canyon later in the afternoon.

Mike was a "snowbird" in his younger years, when he and his wife would settle near Mesa. "But that area has gotten too big and congested so we decided to move here instead." He has a modest home in the adjacent canyon.

"We used to sit on our front porch and watch the illegals walk over the ridge, coming down in groups of five" said Mike. He knows where the popular pick-up points are in these canyons, and even where the illegals hunker down and wait for their SUV to get them.

"The trash isn't as bad as it used to be when we first got here in '04" I told him. "We used to see mounds of trash in Brown Canyon." Little Sieger was outside the van and cuddling next to me as we talked. He was restless and despite enjoying the chat with Mike, opted to go on with my walk with the dogs. We walked up the next trail until that, too, faded away into the burned trees of the hillside. I hadn't been back there in a few years, and the side trail, like a few others nearby, was heavily damaged by flood waters.

The winds were now picking up as well, picking up the abrasive dust as it blew by. Red Flag warnings weren't supposed to kick in until later today. I didn't want to be walking under fragile trees weakened from last summer's fire.

Mike set up his firing position and fired his pistol the entire time, crouching down on his foldable seat. We never spoke again after that as he looked focused on his shooting. I then took the dogs to the muddy spring for water before driving home.

Sieger and Sara played in the mud. Sieger loves muddy water and "digs" in it for holes. Both were covered in mud so before I let either back into the van, made them walk next to me for another half mile to dry off before coming back into the van. Both dogs got baths once we got back home. Sara desperately needed a bath as her fur had been gritty and greasy for a while. The bathwater after her wash was a dark brown, and heavy sediment settled on the bottom of the tub when she was done.