Canine Companions in the Backcountry

Mountains, fresh air and good chat. There’s nothing better than escaping to the backcountry with friends. But what about our furry friends?
It’s hard to imagine anything more exciting for a pet – that has to spend so much of its life indoors – than roaming free in the mountains. It’s also rewarding for the human owners, who are not only giving their pooch a healthy dose of exercise, but are managing to get their own fill of mountain air and outdoor therapy.

But it’s not always that easy. All dogs are different in size, endurance and demeanour and backcountry adventures aren’t always in the most convenient place for dogs to run around off leash. Provincial parks, for example, don’t allow dogs because it can further spook the wildlife and excrement can contaminate water sources. Some backcountry areas have such long access and exit routes that you may end up having to carry your pooch at the end of the day to avoid injury.

One also has to practically consider what the objectives are for the group on the day. Is the plan to climb ridges with ice axes and crampons before rappelling into a couloir? Or is the group happy with making some hippy turns around the tree line?
I’ve taken my Samoyed-wolfdog, Link, touring only a couple of times in the last few seasons, mostly because I’m usually heading into the canine-free BC Parks or end up out for long days and skiing technical terrain. As much as I want Link to experience the outdoors, I don’t want to risk his safety on exposed slopes and I certainly could do without a fine from the BC Park Rangers. As someone who travels reasonably quickly on the skin track, I also don’t want to my dog to hold back the group’s progress or affect the group’s decision on what to ski. So nine times out of 10, I’ll ask a friend or pay a dog walker back in town to get him his exercise while I’m out getting after it.

A couple of weeks ago I got a text from my main touring partner who knows I’m usually frantically making phone calls the day before our missions to sort out my dog’s lodging and activity. His idea was to head to the Brandywine area near Whistler where it would be the perfect conditions for a doggie adventure. We had vehicle access for most of the access road, so Link was not exhausted by the time we got to the steeper climbs. I was surprised at how easy he was able to ascend firm slopes where us humans had to affix our ski crampons, a testament to the resilience of these creatures. We all summited Brandywine Mountain (2213m) and with the snow softening in warm afternoon temperatures, crossed the glacier and skied down the snowmobile routes before hiking back to the car.

I’ve been asked by dog owner friends since that day if I had a transceiver on Link, and the answer was no. The alpine had a consolidated snowpack, had no fresh snow and wasn’t experiencing any rapid warming that day, so I wasn’t really concerned about Link being caught in an avalanche. If I was heading out on a powder day with a more cautious snowpack, I would feel better having a transmitter on Link on a separate frequency (the standard transceiver frequency is 457 kHz) from what other party members are using. Pieps do make the TX600, a mini transmitter that runs at a frequency of 456 Hz, which can be pinpointed by the Pieps DSP Pro transceiver.

But if I’m keeping my guard up against potential avalanches in the backcountry, I need to be focused on safety of myself and my party. On those days the dog is better off staying home.