The first part of the trip report is our hike up Mt. Washington's Huntington Ravine on September 11th. The second part is a personal tribute to the best hiking partner I could ever ask for, and guardian for over 13 years, my beautiful angel, Zion.

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During a family reunion in western Maine, a few of us decided to hike Mt. Washington since it was only an hour away from our cabin rental. We opted for the Huntington Ravine route, which boasts as the “most difficult trail in the White Mountains" with 2450 ft of elevation gain in only 2.1 miles. The term difficult can mean different things to different people, which I assumed it meant a good physical effort with maybe a touch of boulder hopping. My older brother lives out east and has hiked Mt. Washington numerous times, including the Huntington Ravine route. He warned us of the beating our feet might take from all the rocks in the trail, unlike the smoother trails out west.

We started at the Pinkham Notch Trailhead and headed up the Tuckerman Ravine trail for 1.2 miles where we hit the Huntington Ravine break-off. We followed this trail through the trees, over small streams, and up past the Search and Rescue first aid cache.

Not far from there we got into the “ravine” portion of the climb, that combines climbing over and ducking under vehicle-sized boulders. Pretty soon we came up on the Fan, which is a section of angled slab with small ledges. The trail was marked with paint on the rocks, though sometimes you wouldn't see the marking until you were above it. With four of us, we could spot the next marker without too much trouble.

After the Fan it was a series of boulder hopping, bushwhacking, and small sections of class 3ish moves. There were areas of “no fall” zones, but anyone comfortable with the Keyhole Route on Longs would have no trouble here. The rock is solid, and as long as it's not wet, the traction is good. The final obstacle is a narrow, angled chimney about 15 feet long. From there it's any easy hike to the upper trail junctions and summit.

We hung out on the summit long enough to get some food and enjoy the views. Unfortunately, the road was closed that day for construction, so the rest of the family was not able to join us, but it kept the summit less crowded. A couple of park rangers came out and blew bubbles, which floated erratically this way and that before being taken away by the winds. After a few minutes of watching our tax dollars fly away with the wind, we decided to make our way back down.

We descended the Boott Spur Trail, which offered extensive hiking above treeline before dropping down. We descended, and descended, and descended some more. We descended forever. We thought it was never going to end. As much as we just kept going down, we felt like we should have reached Hell. And anyone familiar with the trails out east knows that switchbacks don't really exist. However, we enjoyed each other's company and discussed our brilliant plan to switch actual mileage to “feels like” mileage. (e.g. The route from Chasm Junction back to the Longs Peak trailhead might only be 3.25 miles, but it feels like 9 GDF miles.) We're pretty sure it will be a huge success.

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It has been almost nine months since I had to say the hardest goodbye. A few days after we returned from our trip to Maine, we had to say goodbye to my beloved dog, hiking partner, and guardian for over 13 years, Zion. Even now, tears come to my eyes.

I got him from a shelter in Indiana soon after graduating from college. The shelter thought he was about six months old, and a mix of German Shepherd, Collie, and Rottweiler. He was essentially a purebred mutt, though maybe with a touch of cow. He was fierce, yet gentle. He was oftentimes a bit of a clown, especially around my dad and Chris. He was as loyal as they could come. He was there for me during career changes, boyfriends, multiple moves, and everything else life threw at us. He was truly a gift that forever changed my life.

There are a few defining moments in my life, but the one that really sticks out, and ultimately shaped a lot of who I am today, was the time Zion and I vacationed to Colorado to hike the Four Pass Loop. It felt like everything was going wrong for me the morning of the first day out on the trail - I left my boots at the hotel, got a speeding ticket going back to retrieve them (mostly deserved), fell into the first big stream crossing, soaking wet, broke my camera, and watched my boots float downstream and out of my life forever (so much for taking them off crossing the stream to keep them dry). I tried chasing after my boots, but the current was too fast and I was barefoot. Right about then it started to hail. I had had enough, sat down on a downed tree somewhat sheltered from the hail and rain, and whimpered. I convinced myself I was not tough enough for these trails or the wilds of Colorado; I should call it quits and go home. Barefoot, I turned to begin back down to the trailhead, but Zion would not follow. He was pretty much my shadow in everything, but he would not budge this time. To my disbelief, he laid down on the trail facing the opposite direction and would not come. I pulled on the leash, but still nothing to get him to follow. I looked at him, and I could almost see the disappointment in his eyes that I was giving up so easily. I said something to him along the lines of, "Fine, we'll stay here a bit longer. I've yet to make any good decisions today anyway." By then the hail and rain had subsided and a group of hikers came marching down the trail. One of the girls in the group offered up her boots and said she had a pair of sandals she could use for the remainder of their hike. The boots fit my feet; we exchanged contact information so I could later repay her, and to Zion's persistence, marched on toward Maroon Pass. The rest of the trip was beyond my wildest dreams... mountain vistas, bluebird days, waterfalls, wildflowers, things you don't see in the Midwest. The trip remains one of the greatest moments of my life. And to think I was going to throw in the towel had it not been for my stubborn dog.

I left Indiana in the summer of 2007 to go back to school for a career change. We met a number of great people, many who ultimately became good friends and hiking partners. Zion joined me for about everything, and at times we pushed the envelope. From the woods of Indiana, mountains of Colorado, canyons of Utah, lakes of Michigan, caves of Kentucky, deserts of New Mexico, beaches of Baja… you name it, Zion was a part of it.

As Zion got older, we cut back drastically on the number and distances of our hikes. There were times that I would head out without him, but there was always a pit in my stomach knowing that Zion was at home and not in the mountains with me. So, we would drive out some forest service road, find a nice campsite with views, and just hang out. Physically he couldn't do much the last year of so of his life, but mentally he was still as sharp as a rock.

Below are some pictures of our adventures together. I know several members of 14ers.com got to know Zion too during our mountain excursions. Thank you for being a part of his life and allowing both of us be a part of yours. There are a number of photos of him in the mountains I know are missing, and I hope to update this trip report with more of those special memories when they are found. My memory is a bit fuzzy, so I apologize if the names or peaks aren't correct. Let me know and I will change it.

Recently a friend told me that Zion was a peak into Heaven of what unconditional love is. I couldn't agree more.

Zion, thank you for everything. With tears in my eyes, I say goodbye. For now. May we meet again, my friend.