| Walking the Dog Trip Report |
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| Walking the Dog   | 
| Page Type: Trip Report Lat/Lon: 37.69167°N / 119.30833°W Date Climbed/Hiked: Nov 30, 1999 | Page By: Clydascope Created/Edited: Jul 26, 2007 / Aug 14, 2007 Object ID: 316599 Hits: 1201 Loading... Page Score: 88.85% - 21 Votes Loading... Vote: Log in to vote |
On a warm summer day in the mid 90’s I was walking into the local grocery store when I noticed some kids with a shopping cart full of puppies for sale. I picked up one of the little guys and held him close to my chest. He licked my face. One kid commented on how much the puppy liked me, I commented on the kid’s fine sales pitch.
After buying some things I was on my way out of the store and the kid called out to let me know my dog was still available. They wanted $20 a piece for the puppies and I had no cash. The bank was a short walk away and I made the withdrawal, called my girlfriend and told her I would be bringing someone home for lunch.
Clyde was named before I ever saw him. I had been thinking about a dog for some time and already picked out his name, a tribute to the legendary mountaineer Norman Clyde. This would be a prophetic insight to Clyde’s future. The kids told me that the puppies were a Border Collie, Australian Shepherd, Sheltie mix. They were only 6 weeks old and tiny, Clyde could sit in the palm of my hand. It began to rain shortly after getting home, a big thunderclap announcing our new family member. He didn’t even flinch. Clyde spent his entire life living in the Eastern Sierra Nevada of California.
Oh the terrible two’s! Chewing on shoes, table legs and chairs became a favorite pastime of Clyde’s for the few months. He even ripped up the carpeting in the bathroom. One day I came home to find Clyde had destroyed my little green Roper’s guide to the High Sierra. The book had numerous notes on climbs, first ascents and messages from friends. It was scattered all over the living room floor as small scraps of paper. I was angry and sad and confused so I walked outside and sat on the front step. Clyde, knowing he had done something wrong, sat next to me on the top step and nudged me softly with his nose. He was gentle and serious. It was as if he was apologizing for the damage. I was touched by his show of emotion and hugged him tightly. We would come to this same position many times in the next decade, on stairs, truck tailgates, boulders and summits.
As Clyde developed it became clear that this was no ordinary dog. He had boundless energy and an appetite for action. I learned that the more I exercised him the better disposition he exhibited. If I ignored him for a few days he was ornery and in my face. So it began, we would walk nearly every day for at least a half hour for most of his life. It was great for both of us, good physical and mental exercise. Clyde also discovered his built in joy of fetching sticks and balls. He was obsessed with this, to a fault at times. It was kind of like a drug to him, once he got started it took a huge effort to get him to stop bugging people to throw something.
One day I took Clyde for a hike in the Mammoth Lakes Basin, we veered off the trail and ended up at the base of Crystal Crag. I had been up it a number of times and wasn’t sure if Clyde would be able to make it from the side we were looking at. Climbing up to a steep wall I decided to turn back but Clyde found a small ledge that bypassed the obstacle and we finally made the summit. This was the first of many great climbs together; Clyde would amass over 100 summit ascents on more than 60 different mountains.
Some highlights of Clyde’s mountaineering prowess would include a couple trips over 14,000’, several huge vertical climbs over 6,000’ in a day, lots of class 3 scrambling and an occasional 5th class slab. We logged thousands of miles on the trails. I believe Clyde made the first canine ascent of numerous peaks in the Sierra and desert ranges of Eastern California. I think Clyde’s finest peak was climbing the Northeast Ridge of Mount Izaack Walton in the John Muir Wilderness, an exposed and sustained class 3 ridge far from the road.
Occasionally we would take adventures with other dogs and quite often the other dog would come home with torn up feet, ground off claws, physically exhausted or other wounds. But Clyde was not always without injuries.
There was the day we were walking out by the Laurel Springs Campground after work. Clyde was bolting through the sage bush and let out a small yelp. It was not unusual for him to get poked by the scrubby plants and I didn’t think much about it. When we got home I noticed Clyde would not open his right eye. Upon further investigation I saw the inch long gash in his eyeball. I though he would loose the eye but it slowly healed and he was back to normal before long.
Clyde has been stitched up several times, twice from barbed wire fences. He has tweaked his feet and ankles many times and swallowed rocks the size of golf balls that required surgery to remove them. He broke through a cornice once and fell 15 feet to the powder below. He broke teeth chewing on rocks. One day a really stout, thorny desert plant pierced his ear. But the biggest trauma would have to be the fall on Independence Day 2004. I wrote the following that afternoon;
“I hear the faint, yet distinctive sound of dog claws on rock a moment after saying “stay with me Clyde.” Glancing over my shoulder I saw the grimmest sight ever, my dog of 10 years sliding down glacially polished granite heading for the edge. Then he rolled past the lip and flew into the air before disappearing beyond my view. Pure silence held for several seconds and was broken by a thud far below. The thud was accompanied by what I thought was the last breath of my good friend.”
Clyde fell over 100’ and walked away with nothing more than a broken claw and a tiny cut on his lip. I was dumbfounded that he was even alive, let alone walking and swimming that afternoon. Still am.
But there was so much more to Clyde’s physical abilities. He swam in hundreds of lakes, rivers and streams. Once he swam across Grant Lake, at least a 1/4 mile, only to turn around and swim back after realizing he couldn’t walk around. Then there was the body surfing off the coast of Santa Barbara, which took some learning but eventually he got it. He loved to swim.
Sometimes I used to ride my mountain bike and he would follow, running at a sprint of 25mph, but could keep a 10 mph pace for hours. Clyde could jump in the driver’s window of my Toyota pickup without touching the truck until he was inside. At times when I couldn’t get out walking with him I would let me follow me in the truck on dirt roads, he absolutely loved it.
As Clyde got older he became more relaxed and easier to control. Eventually I could get him to follow my commands via hand gestures. He was so smart it amazed many people. And that was one of his best assets; he got people to like with him because he was interactive with them. From old ladies to teenage troublemakers, Clyde made lots of friends and was very lovable. Last summer I met a brilliant young woman from the Czech Republic. She had never been around dogs and seemed somewhat intimidated by them. Clyde let her know that dogs are great companions and friends; they spent many hours together while I was working. She was his last new friend.
In the past few months Clyde lost his hearing, his eyesight faded and his hips were shot. He had trouble getting around and was not very focused. It is with great sadness that I say goodbye to my dear friend.
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