Long-Distance Hiking with a Dog - Part 1: Trail Worthiness

When I prepared for my thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail, I did a lot of research about hiking with dogs. My philosophy being that since I was making the choice to bring my dog on this adventure, it was my responsibility to do everything I could to make it a safe, enjoyable experience for her, and for us to be a responsible hiking team. I didn't succeed on all fronts, but we survived the trail, she completed all of the trail on which dogs are allowed to hike (over 2000 of the 2178 miles), and made more friends than enemies. With that experience, I offer myself as a resource for people who want to attempt a thru-hike with a dog. This is the first in a series of informational posts about what it takes to successfully thru-hike with a dog. Topics I will cover in subsequent posts include hiker responsibility, nutrition, vaccinations, lodging & logistics, gear, travel (including hitch-hiking), hygiene, and trail etiquette. For more information, the Appalachian Trail Conservancy is a good starting point, and where I began my initial research, for information about hiking with dogs.

Trail Worthiness - Or, how to know if you have a hiker dog on your hands

Physical Ability
I knew without a doubt Gracie would be able to handle the physical rigors of long distance hiking when two years prior, at the completion of a 15 mile day hike in Austin she looked at me as if to say "we're not done, are we? let's do that again!" Meanwhile, I could hardly move. Gracie was also easily able to keep up with me for 6+ mile runs, and never seemed to tire of chasing balls and sticks on land or in the water. She is a really strong swimmer, has the agility of a mountain goat over rocky terrain, and would even climb playground equipment with encouragement. But physical stamina and agility are only part of the hiker dog equation. A good hiker dog also needs to be well-socialized. That's where I fell short with Gracie.

Social Skills
I planned for us to go on a minimum 1 week "shake down" hike before starting the AT, but it never happened for a variety of reasons, chief among them my willfully naive optimism that "everything would be ok," lack of funds, and the fact that I didn't even have a backpack until 2 weeks before we started hiking. Because this would be our first hike together, it was even more important that we go on a test hike. I tell people now that had we done so, I probably wouldn't have brought Gracie to the AT. She just doesn't do well meeting new people. A hiker dog should be approachable by friendly strangers equivalent to Canine Good Citizen terms, and Gracie does not meet that standard. She was better by the end of the hike, but on several occasions she lunged at other hikers and would bark and snarl inappropriately when people walked by at camp. I did what I could to keep her away from others and let people know she was not friendly. I also kept her on leash all the time until we got to Vermont. Still, it was stressful for Gracie, stressful for me, and potentially dangerous for others, not to mention bothersome. For this reason alone, I would not take Gracie on another long-distance hike unless I got the training necessary to get her CGC certification.

On-Leash/Off-Leash
When people asked why I kept Gracie on leash, here are the reasons I gave: She doesn't have a perfect recall; I don't want her to be a nuisance to other hikers or animals; I want to know when & where & how often she eliminates, so I can bury it and assess her health; and I don't want her getting into anything that could lead to illness or injury. Plenty of people think hiking dogs should be allowed to roam free, chase anything that moves, and even kill and eat creatures in the woods. I'm not one of those people. Gracie is as much a guest in the woods as I am, and in the spirit of following leave no trace principles, I kept her on leash over 80% of the time. When we got into more challenging terrain, especially in New Hampshire and Maine, I would let her off leash for steep ascents and descents, as well as for river fords, for safety. By then, she was better about meeting people, and really good about tracking behind me as I walked, so I would let her off leash as long as she didn't linger too far behind. Leashes are required for more than 40% of the trail, and for me, it was easier to keep Gracie leashed than to figure out where they were/were not required. I already had enough to worry about.

Other
Additional characteristics that helped Gracie thru-hike were her willingness to carry a backpack (though she didn't carry one for over 75% of the trail) and wear booties and other protective gear. Her uncanny ability to keep rodents and bears away (all while sound asleep), shed dirt and mud before bedtime, and add 10 degrees of warmth to the sleeping bag. A good sense of humor and a willingness to get up and hike whenever asked (except for that one time at Potaywadjo Spring lean-to in the 100 mile wilderness). For all the time she spent rolling in dirt and leaves and tromping through mud and bogs, she never really smelled bad (at least not to me - there really is nothing like a mother's love).