Not just any dog will do

If you own a poodle, Pomeranian, min-pin or schnauzer and want to recreate a classic scene from Dr. Seuss' "How the Grinch Stole Christmas," strap on your skis, harness up your dog, attach the towline, toss your little bundle of joy out in front of you and see what happens.

Chances are, like the Grinch's dog, Max, your toy pooch will stare back at you with confused, sad eyes then, in an instant, run and jump back into your arms, grinning, as if to say, "Ride!" (Pant. Pant. Pant.) "Ride!"

You see, when it comes to skijoring, not just any dog will do.

While Northern working dog breeds like the Siberian Husky, Alaskan Malamute, Chinook or Samoyed are most associated with the sport, any dog that weighs more than 30 pounds and has a desire to run is a candidate as a skijor companion.

My father-in-law has a 35-pound Llewellyn setter, a small but feisty bird dog with more speed out of the gate than my purebred sled dog. With his cooperation, I just may put this size-doesn't-matter theory to the test, especially if my own dog doesn't work out.

And, while you may already have a suitable and willing best friend, the other question you absolutely need to ask yourself is: Will he (or she) listen?

This is my main concern with my dog, Saber, which has resulted in nightmarish visions of riding headlong into a tree or, worse yet, onto thin ice.

If you wish to consider the sport of skijoring and already have a dog and skis, the first thing you need to do is spend some time - and this could take weeks or months - training. It's something that can be started any time of year with basic commands like "Hike!" and "Whoa!"

Otherwise, you may be putting your life in your dog's hands - er, paws.

Required and recommended equipment for skijoring: One or two dogs weighing at least 30 pounds each, dog harness(es), skijor belt, towline with an attachment for one or two dogs, cross-country skis, boots and poles, helmet, goggles and a loaded daypack. Estimated expense to start from scratch: $500, not including the dog(s).

Mental preparation needed for skijoring

For the past six months, I've been greatly anticipating winter, when, presumably, there would be enough snow to begin training my medium-sized, 50-pound Siberian Husky for the sport of skijoring.

I've also been looking forward to relaying my own personal accounts of this experience, which is a great and wonderful departure from the primarily informative trail descriptions I write the rest of the year. Really, unless something outstanding happens on a hike - you twist your ankle or break a leg and have to rely on your dog to pull you in a make-shift gurney back down the mountain, because, coincidentally, being in the back woods of Maine, you're also out of cell phone range - it's not going to be much more than, "Yeah, we walked for a while, climbed over a few rocks and ... 'Wow. What a splendid view.'"

Of course, hiking with kids and a dog - or canoeing, as in one of my more nerve-wracking adventures this past summer - is a completely different story.

As the season progresses, I will be inevitably documenting the very humbling experience of falling flat on my face in the snow - white wash by dog - as well as the obligatory tale of smashing through a pine stand, throwing my arms in front of my face and praying for mercy as Saber veers off course in hot pursuit of a red squirrel.

Those of you who enjoy watching others sacrifice their bodies in the name of good humor and in the spirit of extreme sports should check back later. There may even be a video.

Unfortunately, this morning's half-inch of snow has served only as a tease, mocking my ambitions like a squirrel sitting just outside the reach of a curious dog's nose.

I suppose I could always strap on roller blades, a helmet, elbow pads, knee pads, a mouth guard, a chin guard and two economy sized packages of double roll toilet paper, then attach myself by bungee to my hyperactive pup and hit the paved trails - quite literally - of Sanford and South Portland, but something inside me screams, "Don't do it!"

Skatejoring is actually a recognized sport, which, like the very fun-sounding, if not absolutely insane, sport of bikejoring, conjures up visions of the half dozen emergency room visits I took as a child. Trust me, it's no fun getting a shot in the rear to numb your body so a team of doctors can set your arm back into place. So naturally I'm inclined to shy away from "sports" that could result in hips, ribs, legs and skulls being screwed back on like a scene out of Young Frankenstein.

I think I'll just wait until there's some padding on the ground.

My insurance company will thank me.

Gearing up for a winter hike

When it comes to hiking in the winter, it's all about footwear. With little more than a dusting of snow so far this season, it might be a good time to consider your options if you plan to do any serious hiking before the heavier accumulations expected later this month.

According to the experts, a good pair of hiking boots or winter boots, wool socks and crampons - in addition to all your regular winter gear - may be all you need to hit the trail this time of year.

Hikethewhites.com founder David Metsky suggests on his Web site that heavy leather hiking boots - worn with two pair of wool socks (with room enough left to wiggle your toes) - are adequate for a normal day hike and will accept a flexible crampon for hiking steeper or icier terrain. He advises against leather boots in extreme cold or for lengthy or overnight expeditions.

"Another choice that many people in New England use is pak boots, like Sorels or L.L. Bean winter boots," Metsky said. "They will keep your feet nice and warm, but are a little more difficult to hike in. ... The big drawback of these boots is that they don't accept crampons very well. The boots are too flexible to securely attach crampons, although they will work for short periods of time."

Check with your local outfitter - in southern Maine, try Cabela's in Scarborough, Eastern Mountain Sports in South Portland or L.L. Bean in Freeport - for more recommendations on boots and gear that will fit your needs and your budget.

Preview: Winter adventure guide

With nothing to report since the end of August and beginning of September - two weekends spent hiking three coastal mountains in Downeast Maine (Black Mountain and Schoodic Mountain in Hancock County and Pemetic Mountain in Acadia National Park) - it's been a long wait through hunting season in anticipation of the more snowy days of December, January and February.

However, according to the Appalachian Mountain Club, you don't have to wait out hunting season if you want to get out and hike - even if you want to hit the trails with your canine companion whose furry body and/or tail may resemble that of a white-tail deer:

Each year we at the AMC get questions about hiking during hunting season. Many people, especially those unfamiliar with the traditions of hunting, are fearful of venturing into the woods during hunting season.

Caution is certainly advisable, but fear isn't necessary, if you think about where you're going and you prepare properly for your trip. The best form of preparation is in the clothing you wear and the places you choose to go. ...

Read the full article by Rob Burbank, public affairs director for the Appalachian Mountain Club.

This winter, Maine Day Hiker hopes to revisit some familiar trails in the snow, traveling primarily on snowshoes and cross-country skis. We'll also explore the sport of skijoring, which amounts to having a harnessed dog, attached to a belt around your waist by up to a 10-foot towline, help pull you over the trails as you "ride" behind on cross-country skis.

In coming weeks, we'll discuss needed and recommended equipment for winter hiking, snowshoeing, cross-country skiing and skijoring; provide names and contact information for local outfitters; and begin gathering information on where to go, how to get there and, if applicable, how much it costs.