10 Things I’ve Learned From Adventuring With My Dog

Krista Diamond

Presley is a city dog. As the only member of our family who is native to Las Vegas, he prefers strolling the Strip to climbing mountains. He’d rather be at brunch than in the backcountry. This pains me, because I used to work in the national parks and still enjoy camping, hiking, and watching the sunset in locations that are not within earshot of jingling slot machines. And the desert outside of Las Vegas–despite what the film Casino would have you believe–is the perfect place for outdoor adventure. 

Since adopting Presley from the Nevada SPCA four years ago, my husband and I have made a concerted effort to turn his canine sensibilities from trash and traffic to sage and starlight. Along the way, we’ve learned some valuable lessons about adventuring with dogs. Some of these lessons–like the Kool-Aid Man tent incident which I will explain below–we’ve learned the hard way, but the important thing is that we’ve learned them, and we’re better dog owners and stewards of nature as a result.

Seat belts aren’t just for humans

I grew up in New Hampshire, where seat belts are still (!!!) not mandatory for adults. Fortunately, seat belts are required in less ‘Live Free or Die’ type states–for humans anyway. As a dog owner, it may not be the law to buckle up your dog, but it’s a great way to keep them safe on road trip adventures. I purchased a dog seat belt for Presley for less than $10. It clips into the seat buckle in the backseat, and anchors onto his harness. Not only will this keep him safe in the event of an accident, it prevents him from trying to climb onto my husband’s lap while he’s driving–a thing he would absolutely do if given the choice. 

Dog hiking boots are silly, but they work

A few years ago, I was hiking in a California desert mountain range when I came upon a group of people crowded around an Australian shepherd. The pup had split open his paw on a sharp piece of shale and was unable to walk. Sheepishly, the owners admitted they had hiking boots for the dog but never actually made him wear them. My husband loaded the 50-pound dog into his backpacking pack and carried him several miles to the trailhead. The lesson we–and hopefully the Australian shepherd’s owners–learned is that if you’re hiking with a dog on difficult terrain, it helps to have some boots

Make sure dogs are allowed

National parks are not as dog friendly as one might think–though if you’ve ever seen one of those viral videos of a bison in Yellowstone charging a tourist, you can start to understand why. When planning an adventure with Presley, I have learned to prioritize places where he can hike with me. State parks–like Valley of Fire State Park or Spring Mountain Ranch State Park in Nevada–tend to be much more dog friendly. This is also true of national preserves and lots of other federal land that doesn’t bear the national park label. I may not be able to take my dog to the Mesquite Dunes in Death Valley National Park, but I can take him to the Kelso Dunes in the Mojave National Preserve, which is honestly just as cool.

Collapsible dog bowls FTW

When you live in the desert, you’re supposed to drink about a gallon of water a day–even more when adventuring in the wilderness. Dogs need to stay hydrated too, which is why I always hike with a collapsible dog bowl and plenty of extra water for Presley. This also means more frequent water breaks than I might take if hiking alone. Dogs don’t have the luxury of sipping on a hydration pack on the trail, and they can’t ask for water using words, so it’s up to us to make sure they’re hydrated. 

Check with your vet before traveling out of state

In Las Vegas, we don’t have to worry about ticks and other pests that target dogs. This means fewer vaccinations at the vet, but it also means that it’s up to me to make sure Presley is protected when he travels to other states. Depending on where you live, it’s worthwhile to check with your vet when heading out of state. Mine suggests additional vaccinations if we ever go camping or hiking in California, but this is going to vary by region. If you’re, say, a mountain dweller adventuring with your dog near the ocean for the first time, check to ensure that he or she is safeguarded from any bugs or canine maladies in the area you’re going to.

A fur coat is not a substitute for a down jacket

Dogs may be covered with fur, but they still get cold. A few years ago, we took a spur-of-the-moment December trip to the Grand Canyon. It was shockingly cold, icy, and blanketed with snow. Fortunately, I had purchased a sweater for Presley beforehand, which he definitely appreciated. Outdoor retailers sell all sorts of technical dog clothing for adventures, but you can find sweaters, sweatshirts, and even hats online for super cheap. As an added bonus, dogs in clothing are never not adorable.

Know your dog’s stamina 

When people find out I have a German shepherd/yellow lab mix, they often say something to the effect of, “Oh wow, he must have a lot of energy.” I also assumed this would be true when we first adopted Presley. However, one day on a long hike in the Spring Mountains near Red Rock Canyon, Presley decided he had had enough. We were on our way back from the summit and we still had a few miles to go, but it didn’t matter to him–he was done. He plopped down on the trail and refused to go further. So we carried him–all 72 pounds of him–back to the car. He wasn’t hurt, sick, dehydrated, or hungry; he just isn’t a very active dog. Since then, we have learned that he maxes out at about two hours of hiking. Having grown up around dogs with boundless energy who could climb mountains and still have enough stamina for a trail run the next day, this was a tough, but necessary lesson to learn. The takeaway? If you have a new dog, start out on a shorter hike and build up to a longer trek in order to avoid having to carry him or her out of the backcountry. 

Off the grid is better

My dog spends his days growling at literally anyone who makes the grave mistake of walking by our house. While I appreciate his interest in defending me, not everyone should be subjected to his barking. This is why we do not camp with him in established campgrounds, where the sounds of people enjoying their campfire ghost stories would certainly whip him into a frenzy, spoiling everyone’s fun. When we’re adventuring with Presley, we stick to dispersed camping on public land. We’re lucky to live in a state that is 63 percent public land, making it extremely easy to find a remote patch of high desert wilderness where there’s nothing but solitude and mountain views. Not only is this better for Presley, who finds room to roam and fewer people to bark at, it’s awesome for us too. 

Leash manners are good for everyone

Have you ever seen a teddy bear cholla? I promise that this type of cactus is not as cuddly as it sounds. Also known as cylindropuntia bigelovii or jumping cholla, this desert specimen’s spines detach and burrow deeper and deeper into your skin as they search for moisture. Not too long ago, I was in a canyon where the hills were blanketed with them–and I was with my dog, who was very curious. Had he not been on a leash, I am 100% certain he would have plowed right into one and likely would have been severely injured. The lesson here is that leashes in outdoor spaces are not only oftentimes the rule of the land, they can protect your dog and the ecosystem you’re adventuring in. 

Know your dog’s prey drive (or your tent may suffer)

Speaking of protecting the ecosystem, here’s a lesson I learned the hard way. Last summer, my husband and I were camping with Presley in a Joshua tree forest outside of Las Vegas. After the glowing desert sun sank behind the mountains, we went to our tent and watched the stars until we fell asleep. A few hours later, we woke to the sound of nylon ripping and a Presley-sized hole in our tent. Yes, it was kind of hilarious (We now call it the Kool-Aid Man tent incident), and fortunately he did not catch the kangaroo rat he was chasing and was also not hurt, but it pretty much destroyed an expensive tent. After this, we bought REI’s base camp tent so that we could fit Presley’s crate inside in order to prevent further destruction. It is absolutely enormous–almost embarrassingly so–and it only works for car camping, but hey, the Mojave Desert’s kangaroo rats can rest easy now, and so can I.

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