Eric Wagenknecht and
Merle on a Gore Range
trail near where Merle
went missingM
erle and I had started the day
at 4 a.m. at our home in Eagle,
Colorado. I’d stacked my run-
ning clothes next to the bed the night
before and filled my pack with water
bottles, trail food, and a can of
sardines—my go-to for big days in the
mountains. It would be my first long
run in the Gore Range this summer
and my first big adventure with Merle.
We’d bought the 40-pound blue-and-brown-eyed Aussie
shepherd six months
earlier from a breeder in
Durango. Merle quickly
proved himself to be a
phenomenal running
partner. He could easily
bang out 15 miles.
That morning, we
drove 36 miles from our
house to the Deluge
Lake trailhead in East
Vail. I’d grown up in Il-
linois but as a kid made
frequent trips to Vail,
where my late father had
a house. I’d hiked this
trail every year since I
was seven. My dad, a
mountaineer and ultra-
runner, would take me
and my younger sister
up the eight miles to
Deluge Lake—training, he called it,
for our annual summit of Mount of the
Holy Cross, the peak where I would
spread his ashes in 2002.
I hadn’t thought twice about
taking Merle up Grand Traverse; in
fact, I’d expected him to beat me to
the summit. Which is why, even as
I stood above the steep chute, I still
thought, “It’s going to be OK.” I knew
this summit was the only spot on theMerle quickly
proved to be a
phenomenal
partner, easily
banging out
15-mile runs.rd.com 85