Our paths in life are carved out by choices. From little choices like what to eat or whether to text that crush of yours, to big choices like whether to quit your job and move to another country. I believe most of what we experience is directly tied to the choices we make.
Monday, was a day of choices too. But unlike other days, those choices had much more memorable consequences. The last minute decision to charge up Chinook’s tracking collar at Adam’s while we planned our day. The choice to head to Glencoe for a scramble on the Aonach Eagach Ridge instead of mountain biking in Torridon as initially planned. The agreement to leave Chinook behind, instead of taking her on the ridge. Then scrapping the ridge plan entirely and agreeing to just do Am Bodach instead, due to the time of day and poor weather conditions, which meant Chinook could, and would, be included on our hike.
The amalgamation of these choices led to unforeseen trouble. We knew something was wrong when we kept calling Chinook, but she wasn’t coming back. Her tracker told me she was 168 metres west, walking in circles and barking in a ravine. A place we would have never thought to search for her, had she not had her tracker on. We made our way to where she was pinned on the map and found her cragfast on a grassy ledge. By her placement, we knew she had to have fallen there. I’m relieved I didn’t witness this. Beneath her, a 600 metre sheer drop into the gully below. She is stuck in a very precarious position.
More choices need to be made.
We agree that I will stay in sight of her for reassurance while Adam gets as close as he can to her ledge to see if we can find a way to safely get her out of there. We cannot. But we can see that if she manages to get over a tricky boulder above the ledge she’s on, she can get herself out of there …but it’s very exposed and greasy from all the rain.
We sit in the wet grass and cold rain for over an hour shouting encouragement. ‘Good girl Chinook, that’s it!’ As she manages to climb up to the Boulder. ‘Yes Chinook, good dog!’ as she attempts to go over. I know she can do it, she is capable. But she is too timid at the moment. She’s very exposed and has already fallen once today. She’s terrified. I’m also terrified watching her try. If she slips, she will die. I will watch my dog die if it doesn’t work and I know it. With a heavy heart I realise, she’s not going to get herself out of there.
Maybe we get back to the van and gear up? I’ve got 60m and 30m ropes and a full rack… we could set up an abseil, then make a doggy harness out of a 120 sling we can connect to her chest harness and winch her up? We look over to the ground above her. From where we’re sitting a choss pile. Hard to tell if the Heather is holding the rocks in place, or it’s the other way around. We can’t see anywhere safe to build an anchor. We have no idea what we’d be getting ourselves into and it’s very tricky ground. Even if we manage to find and anchor and ab down, will either of us be strong enough to hoist her back up, especially if she struggles because she's scared? If we attempt this ourselves, it could end with even bigger consequences than a cragfast Chinook.
The next choice; phone mountain rescue.
They take our details and overview of the situation and inform us that dogs are not covered by their insurance so if any of the team come out, it’s really at their own risk so they might struggle to get volunteers, but they’ll see what they can do and phone us back.
We sit in the pouring rain. I start to realise I’m shaking with the cold. Adam has fewer layers than I. I take out my emergency shelter and we huddle up together and wrap it around ourselves. Both of us are soaked to the bone and shivering now. We wait a bit longer. Chinook paces and barks at us from her ledge.
Another decision: ‘Adam, I think we need to go down to the van.’ I didn’t want it to come to this, but I know it’s the logical thing to do. We’re both getting too cold. We can’t do anything to help her now, so we have to get ourselves dry, warm and fed.
Hearing my dog cry and howl as we walk out of sight is something I’m not sure I’ll ever shake. Is this the last time I see her? Will she be smart enough to stay put? Does she think we’re abandoning her? Her cries echo through the Glen the entire descent.
As we trudge down under her resounding distress calls, I wonder if having her on the lead would have prevented this (another choice). But I know from past experience that having an incredibly strong, 40 kilo wolf tethered to me on steep, slippery and tricky terrain is a great way for both of us to take a tumble at best.
We are scrambling down the sodden path when Mountain Rescue phones back. They have managed to gather 3-4 volunteers who are willing to come and help. They are on the way and will be there in about 15 minutes.
We approach the Am Bodach carpark and see not just 4 people, but already there’s at least 7 …and more arriving by the minute and start gearing up.
We get moved to the Three Sisters carpark to stay with the base team while the others start to make their way up to her. It’s decided that it’s best if we stay put and let them get her without us present, as the ground up there is as sketchy as we suspected.
Now it’s a waiting game. It’s horrible. I’d rather be up there with them. I feel useless as we stand outside the MRT van and watch the little blue circles of each team member on the computer screen ascend up the hill towards Chinook. We listen in eagerly to all communication breaking through the walkie talkies. Chinook’s howls still reverberate through the Glen. I check her location on the tracker again. Good girl, she’s staying put.
The team with us below do a great job of offering the right amount of both reassurance and distraction.
I hear her distress calls shift to her 'stranger danger' barks.
And then it happens. ‘We’ve got the dog. Just making our way back down the mountain path’ crackles through the radio. I hug Adam. I want to cry …but I choose not to. I wait until writing this today to do that.
I eagerly scan the path for the light of the head torches and finally, they twinkle through the heavy rain, bouncing down down down the hill until they are finally level with the road.
My girl is coming home. She is safe.
Please donate to the Glencoe MRT if you can so they can have everything required to rescue all those in need: canine or human. 🫶🏻