Dear Maia, Isaac, and Virtual Wanderers,
Camping season ended last month. It always goes too fast. Then comes October: Canyon hiking season. Unfortunately, this year has been filled with much-needed home upgrade adventures that have tied me to home. I just couldn’t go all fall with no canyon hikes. So, a couple of days ago, I loaded up the dogs and headed to Dominguez Canyon.

If you search this travel blog for Dominguez Canyon, you will find a lot of posts about it because it is my local favorite. Why? Because I feel like I am in Utah or Arizona and not 40 miles from home. The length of the hike is about right for the senior dogs, as well. We go from the parking lot to the waterfalls. It takes us about 3 hours with stops and short legs.



Traditionally, we do the hike around Saint Patrick’s Day in the late winter/early spring. It is usually our first real hike of the season. Yes, we do other hikes and walks in the winter, but closer to home. When we get to the Dominguez hike, it is to visit the gorgeous red canyons for the first time. It is to get a small of breath of spring.

That said, the fall hikes are my favorite because of the gorgeous fall leaves. The red canyon walls, green-tinged Gunnison River (I call in the Leprechaun River in March), yellow rabbit brush, golden grasses, and the bright orange leaves don’t disappoint. We also got to see the train come through the canyon – always a treat unless you are early in the hike and close to the tracks. Then it can upset the dogs.

Hiking with senior dogs can be a challenge. People say “take a stroller.” I carry a small umbrella dog stroller, but it isn’t made for rough trails. It’s the best match for my subcompact car and 3 dog booster seats. So, we keep hikes on the shorter side and the dogs hike, sniff, and get treat breaks. The trail had seen a lot of rain a couple of weeks ago, so some areas were a bit washed out. But we did it. All but 14.5-year-old Cimarron, who wanted to be carried back in her purse carrier.






Today’s hike was healing for me. The sunshine, the last of the seasonal warmth, the color.
TTFN, Grandma Cathy Hartt








