rvsue and her canine crew

Wednesday, March 18

“Okay, I get the message. You can stop drilling more holes into my head. We’ll go somewhere!”

I toss the crew into the Perfect Tow Vehicle. At the end of the campground road I dump a bag of trash in the dumpster.

We take Route 93 south and turn onto a gravel road.

We’re still in Pahranagat National Wildlife Refuge and this is a hunting area. That does not make sense to me. How can it be a refuge for wildlife if people shoot at the wildlife? Regardless, we walk the road and I take a few photos.

It’s a challenge taking photos of the Pahranagat Mountains because of overhead wires. (Hence the close crop in the photo above!)

Remember when dried flowers were all the rage for decorating?

I like them better when they adorn the desert floor.

This is our late afternoon walk. This morning we walked the maze of trails at the Visitors’ Center. We’ve gone over there a couple times for walks since making our camp at the lake.

Looking east across the highway . . . .

Pulling in closer on the mountain with rain clouds forming above it . . . .

By the time we return to our camp on Upper Pahranagat Lake, rain begins to fall. It lasts only a few minutes.

Thursday, March 19

The wind blows this morning and the air is chilly.

Upper Pahranagat Lake Campground, Alamo, Nevada

Reggie doesn’t tolerate the cold as well as Bridget and I do. A slight drop in air temperature takes him from comfort to shivers.

“C’mere, little guy. Let me put this sweater on you.”

I drive us to the north end of the lake and park.

We walk on a berm across the lake.

Bridget is conscious of the camera so she hangs back, walking behind me. After a few minutes, she becomes absorbed in the moment and forgets to shy from the lens.

Every time we walk the berm across the lake an American Dipper bird flies around us. This is it’s favorite place to dip, I guess.

The crew stops to let me take a photo of a goose.

I step on Reggie’s leash to avoid a yank while clicking the shutter. Bridget knows to sit still and wait.

The Paiutes named this area well.

It is a “place of many waters.”

The trail takes us where we are protected from the wind. The sun shines through the boughs of the cottonwood trees.

We come upon a picnic table by the lake’s shore.

We have walked halfway around the lake which is far enough for us. I sit with my back to the table and an arm around Bridget on one side and and an arm around Reggie on the other.

“Isn’t it a beautiful day, guys?”

After a brief rest we head back.

Reggie wants badly to run. I hate having him on a leash all the time. Someday I’ll be able to trust him to come back. Not yet.

Bridget and I run for the sake of Reggie.

He keeps ahead of us, straining at the leash.

“Okay, that’s enough! Right, Bridge?” We slow to a walk. Whew!

When we get home, I’ll work on a blog post. I have enough photos. These two will want to take a nap. Or maybe Reggie will continue killing the armadillo . . . As long as he lets me type . . .