It's just a hike in the woods, what could possibly go wrong?

Slick, Maxie-Moose & I headed over to Kings Mountain National Park yesterday for a few hours of hiking. It was a truly beautiful day with bright sun-shine and temperatures in the low 50's. This, IMHO, is perfect hiking weather.

All the leaves had completed their annual suicide plunge, requiring us to pay extra attention to the trail-markers. The dog was being extra good, thus affording him extra off-the-leash time. He romped in and out of the stream. How he could stand the cold water is beyond me. We picnicked on a bench someone made deep in the woods. It was beautiful.

We had been out for about 2 hours (including lunch.) Slick was admitting to being a bit tired and my legs were starting to ache. Since we were about a mile from the car, we started heading back.

Max was in the stream again, but came running when I called him. He arrived, dutifully, at my side. Everything was "perfect." My wife was smiling. My dog was loyal and trustworthy. This is the moment where the "wrong" happened.

We never saw that which Max caught wind, but I assume it was deer. He went into full track mode, bolted down the trail and then off into the woods.

Later, I mused that his usual quarry doesn't cause this kind of problem since squirrels & rabbits make it into the trees or down into holes (or are caught and eviscerated.) Deer, on the other hand, simply run and run and run.

With-in 30 seconds he's gone. Out of sight and clearly not paying any attention. I say to Slick, "Stay here" and go up the ridge after him. I'm glad Slick stayed on the trail. The trail simply vanished by the time I was 30 feet away. If not for the contour of the land or the fact that there was a stream nearby I would have been completely reliant on my sense of direction within minutes. And that's problematic since all my focus was on finding Max.

I hiked out, but not too far, until I got to the top of a hill looking over a small gully. There I stood calling and blowing the whistle I keep in my pack for "emergencies." Finally, after what felt like ages (approximately 20 minutes) I started back to Slick. We regrouped and assessed our options. All the thoughts about sundown, the park closing, leaving without my dog came into my mind. Just when I wondered if I would actually have to face some stark reality, we heard a frantic bark from down the trail.

Max, looking a bit disheveled, had finally made it back but to the spot where he left us. Unable to find us he panicked and started to call out. Copious amounts of treats were consumed. (If I had caught him, he would have gotten a spanking. His returning on his own had to be rewarded.)

Poor Slick. I drug her to the woods to help her unwind and forget about work. Instead, her heart was pounding. (Mine too.)

In the end, everyone made it home safely. We were all exhausted. I walked an extra mile. Max ran an extra few? Still, safe and together is all that matters. ...Stupid dog!...