After leaving the Beverly Bridge for the second time, Dogzilla and headed east for what would prove to be the most difficult stretch of trail. Several weeks earlier, Captain, Zilla, and I had been riding just east of the town of Lind, Washington when a vital piece of equipment broken causing us to have to end our day early and slowly limp back to the car. The incident had occurred next to an unremarkable gate across the trail near mile marker 1946. I barely made note of it at the time, but now this spot was the most significant spot for me on the entire trail as it was easternmost extent of Captain’s journey. It was the last place on the trail that Captain had physically been a part of the team and once Zilla and I made it back to the gate and rolled away towards Idaho, we would be moving forward alone, without her, for the first time in a dozen years. It would kick off unfathomable task of carrying on the rest of my life without her and making memories that was not a part of. I didn’t know if I could bare the weight of this and honestly, I didn’t want to. I wanted to quit. I couldn’t though, the need to keep Captain’s legacy alive outweighed my selfish desires to crawl into a hole, drink myself into oblivion, and never face another moment without her unaided by the armor of alcohol and inebriation. With that, Zilla and I spent several uncomfortable hours driving to the next trailhead to make that break official. The drive was agony.

A few hours later, Dogzilla and I found ourselves at the trailhead. Since the gate had been in the middle of a segment of the trail that is inaccessible to cars, we had the option of either redoing a section of trail that Captain, Zilla, and I had covered together or starting from further east and working our way back to the gate. I opted for the later as I didn’t want to redo the last few miles that I’d done with Captain. Those memories were sacred now and I didn’t want to revisit those spots without her, turning the last good memories of her on the trail into sad ones. Plus, by starting to the east, we could use the gate as a turnaround point and I’d only have to experience the emotional turmoil once as opposed to coming from the other direction and then needing to pass Captain’s final progress point twice. I could barely handle this trauma once, there was no way I’d willingly do it twice.

(click photos to enlarge and see descriptions)

Once I’d found a place to park, I let Zilla out to run around while I methodically set about getting everything together for the ride. I was in no hurry, in fact, I was dreading it. Nevertheless, I finished assembling things, got Zilla and put him in the trailer, took a deep breath, and began the ride. We were only about a mile from the gate, but we might as well have been a hundred; the only thing heavier than my legs was my heart. Adding to the overall gloom of the ride was the fact that the trail was really bad shape. Large, uneven rocks were strewn about haphazardly, making our progress roughly 3 miles an hour. I tried my best to stay composed but the emotion of the day and the ramshackle nature of the trail nearly got the best of me, but then suddenly, a small miracle. Out of nowhere, a small, clear path emerged in the trail that was no more than 6-8” wide. It was enough to ride the bike in without constantly hitting rocks. There was no logical explanation for it either as it just started in the middle of the trail with no obvious end point for where whatever had made it had exited the larger, train-sized, bumpy trail. I was then overcome with feeling of warmth as I had imagined that somehow, Captain had pulled some strings from the other side and had found a way to somehow try and make such a difficult day just a little bit easier. Though we were barely a 1/2 mile in, I needed to stop for a minute and compose myself.

Having pulled myself back together, Zilla and I started to finish the last 1/2 mile to Captain’s gate, utilizing the wonderful little trench she had made for us through the deep, rocky trail. We didn’t make it far though as about 1/4 mile later, I noticed that hair was blowing around violently in the wind. That could only mean one thing, I’d lost my helmet…. I stopped the bike and looked around us but it wasn’t nearby. I wasn’t worried that it was lost, the terrain was so open, empty, and drab colored that it would be impossible to lose a bright orange helmet so the fact that I couldn’t see it anywhere meant I’d probably taken it off at our break stop, set it on top the trailer as usual, and when we pulled away, the rocky bumps had caused it to fall off the trailer. That left me with a couple options, I could continue on without it, knowing I’d be back shortly since we had to turn around anyhow, I could turn around and get it, or I could detach the trailer, leaving Zilla behind, and just retrieve it with the bike. The last seemed to be the best option as I could move much quicker without the trailer and it would save Zilla from another 1/2 mile of getting knocked around on the tough terrain. I felt terrible though about leaving him alone on the trail, trapped in the trailer, with no way to explain to him what was going on. In the end, I gave him a bunch of treats to distract him while I sped off. A few minutes later, the helmet was exactly where I figured it would be, in the middle of the trail at almost exactly where we’d stopped. I quickly put it back on and went back to reunite with Zilla as I didn’t want his separation anxiety to be any worse than necessary. Once I got back to Zilla, I made sure to give him a proper, excited greeting to let him know how much I had missed him, and then reattached the trail. The joy of Zilla again quickly wore off though as I could see Captain’s gate coming into view. This was going to be rough…. Closing in on the gate, I fought back my tears. The moment I had been dreading was finally here.

We came to a stop just a few feet from the gate and I just stood there for a moment and stared. I transported myself back to just a few weeks earlier we had come through from the other direction as a happy family out on an adventure and how when the trailer attachment broke, instead of getting angry, I just took it stride that the day was done and we’d have to go back to the care. There’s no way I could have guessed that it was also the end of Captain’s journey, yet it was, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I was then jolted back to the present and the reality of the situation. I started to cry as I let Zilla out of the trailer. We weren’t just here to connect our line on the map, we were here to remember Captain and honor her life.

With Zilla walking free, I pulled Captain’ remembrance items from the trailer, first pulling out a velvet bag containing an engraved wooden box of her ashes. The next items were Captain’s collar and the lifelike pillow of her that my sister had made for me and I gave it a kiss. I then pulled out a bouquet of flowers, yellow roses with white daisies, and set them down with the other items. The last item was a peanut butter sandwich as 12 years earlier, it had take 4 days and a plain old peanut butter sandwich to finally lure a young scared female McNab into a truck with a total stranger who didn’t want her so I thought it fitting to send her on her way with another peanut butter sandwich for the afterlife. The funny part being, she didn’t even like peanut butter, but I guess 4 days of being virtually a puppy in the wilderness, with no friends or food sources, makes you willing to eat just about anything; but I’m pretty sure that was the only time she ate peanut butter in the 12 years she graced me with her presence. I then sat down next to these items, put Zilla in my lap, put Captain’s pillow/collar in my lap, and put Captain’s ashes in my lap, giving all of them one last giant hug as a family.

A few moments later, I set everything back down, started sobbing, and then slowly mustered up the courage to have an impromptu dialog with Captain, thanking her for sharing her life with me and telling her how much she meant to me, how much I love her, and how much she would be missed. Caught up in the moment, I picked up the peanut butter sandwich and began looking around, delusionally hopefully that through sheer force of my love and will that I could somehow summon a stray puppy to show up at that exact moment thus bringing my girl back to me. But there were no dogs to be found except for Zilla. Regaining a little bit of sanity and composure, I invited Captain to come back to me at any time and in any form, if she were willing. I then set the sandwich down, put my face in my hands and was about to lose it again but then at that exact moment, something happened… No, Captain didn’t come back me and no stray puppy magically appeared, but it was exactly what I needed at that moment, it was Zilla!

( I highly suggest click below to see Zilla’s antics in the video before reading about them and ruining the surprise :D )

Especially in later life, Zilla had a love/hate relationship with Captain. She loved him and he tolerated her during the day, but didn’t want her around at night, especially in the bed. So as if to put a little “good riddance” punctuation mark on Captain’s being gone, he took it upon himself to start peeing on her memorial/service right at that exact moment. Zilla’s seemingly curmudgeonly but obviously innocent act, caught me so completely by surprise and that I instantly wet from sobbing to in intermittent mix of sobs and the hardest laugh I’ve had in my entire life. It was the absolute best thing that could have happened in that moment.

Completely refocused, I decided to spread some of Captain at this spot and to also bury a small piece of her so that she could also be here as well. I also decided to bury a few strands of my own hair as well so that she wouldn’t be alone. I could have spent the entire there just thinking about her, but I knew it was time to more forward with life after Captain. I put Zilla back in the trailer and loaded everything else back in, leaving the flowers and sandwich behind at the last spot that Captain had been, and looked at the rocky trail ahead. It seemed quite fitting as a metaphor for what life would be like without her. Then began heading east towards Idaho.

A few seconds, a rocky bumps on the trail later, an idea struck me. I could use some of the larger rocks and build a makeshift memorial for Captain at the last spot that she’d been. I quickly collected a dozen or so rocks and made an outline of a heart around where the flowers and sandwich were above the spot her remains had been buried. I made sure to point the tip of the heart in the direction that Zilla and I were going so that Captain could find us in the future should she ever choose to follow us. I then got back on the bike, took a deep breath, collecting my thoughts, said one final goodbye, blowing her a kiss, and then began moving forward, not moving on.