Water of Any Sort

It's dry here in the mountains of Idaho now. Summer has been here awhile. Other than the occasional thunderstorm with a few minutes of rain, it's been dry all of July. Finding trails that have a water source is getting hard.

I knew the ski hill would have at least one stream still running.

What I didn't expect was that we would would find any snow. Bonus!

Maia spotted (smelled?) it first and dashed ahead. I couldn't figure out what had gotten her attention and called "Wait" until I saw a slim sliver of white at the base of a granite face.

Barely enough for two snow-starved Malamutes to stand on! It was covered in dust and tree litter, but that didn't matter. They partook. Toes and tongues deliciously cooled.

We continued to the top, then started down the gentler and longer Elk Trail. Dusty. It's in this situation that Meadow decides she should lead. No dummy, she; less dust in the front. Maia and I let her. She eats dust all the way up. It's only fair.

Midway down the mountain, we come to the stream I had counted on. The girls couldn't drink fast enough. There's precious little water running; soon it will be dry.

The girls formed a drink train. There's a small foot bridge over this stream, for the mountain bikes. The girls tend to drink from the upper-most portion of the stream they can easily access; in this case, under the bridge. They jockey for lead position, again because the one in front gets less dirt/mud in their drink. Meadow, leading the way down, got to the bridge first.

What was that?

Nothing. Let's drink.

Another great morning on the mountain. Life is good.