Solo hiking along the Continental divide was a risky decision for a single woman. I took it in stride.

Properly equipped, and accompanied by my Irish Wolfhound, I didn't even mind having to carry his food with us as well. Sif carried her own load in any case.

Now as we set up my tent under the remnants of someone's half destroyed lean-to, I kept an eye on the storm clouds gathering in the gap of the pass we would climb through tomorrow.

Sif whined, and I told her to go. I trusted her instincts when it came to hunting. Everyone told me I would wreck her as a companion if I let her find her own food, but she brought most of her kills back to me to cook. The loss of an occasional mouse or gopher wasn't an issue, and her demeanor around me never changed.

I spread the tarp over the cross support of the lean-to staking it down to stop condensation from forming inside the tiny two man tent Sif and I used to sleep in. Lightning flickered toward the tree line of the nearest mountain when Sif came back with a rabbit.

I left it under the most complete corner of the dried out pine boughs and pulled the rest of our gear into the tent, as the first massive drops of rain hit. Sif stretched out across the door as I zipped it shut.

Laying there, listening to the rhythm of the dripping water, I felt like I could dance to Mother Nature's waltz. The one, two, three was soothing. Sif wriggled up laying her massive head on my thigh. Her ears twitching in time and I started to whistle softly. Strauss' Blue Danube Waltz soared over the drumming drops dripping on the canvas over us and I was at peace with my world.

Everything I needed or wanted was right there.

This was happiness, and I wouldn't trade for anything in my family's stress driven world.