Muddy Paws & Misty Pines: A Rainy Ranch Escape

Mud, Mist, and the Perfect Camping Weekend for the Dogs

Some weekends begin with sunshine. Ours began with mist, muddy paws, and an unexpected welcome party.

After months of waiting, this wasn’t just a camping trip for us—it was the camping trip for the dogs. Lennon and Dasher hadn’t been out on an adventure like this since November. And as we pulled into a quiet ranch nestled between the hills of southeastern Wyoming, it was clear they knew it.

From our cozy hilltop perch, we could see the winding dirt road disappearing into the fog below—our little camper, barely a blip in the landscape. Pines framed the ridge lines, and rock croppings peeked through the green meadows like ancient guardians of the valley.

The temperature was a brisk 50 degrees, perfect for our furry companions. Lennon, our mellow 8-year-old, is all about the slow life—happy to stretch out in the dirt or curl up on the couch after a short burst of morning zoomies. Dasher, our 2.5-year-old pup, is the complete opposite. Full of curiosity and energy, he chased birds and squirrels, sniffed every bush, and investigated every pine cone like it was a national treasure.

We were barely settled when two curious ranch dogs appeared out of the mist to greet us—a muddy but friendly welcome wagon. They scoped us out, tail wags and all, before heading off to patrol the property once more. They inspected our setup, sniffed noses with our pups, and disappeared into the trees just as silently as they arrived.

Cozy Camper Moments & Soggy Adventures

As the drizzle picked up, we moved inside to get cozy. Lennon claimed the couch for his nap. Dasher posted up at the window, keeping an eye out for anything with feathers or fur. I swept the floor for the secondtime that morning, muttering to Bill,

“I think I’m averaging about four sweeps a day thanks to the mud brigade.”

After dinner, as I washed dishes, the fog began creeping over the hills like a slow tide. It didn’t even feel like Wyoming—everything was so lush, green, and moody. The scent of wet pine, mist, and slightly damp dog fur filled the air, mingling into that wild fragrance only the backcountry can create.

Needing a little self-care after the muddy chaos, I treated myself to a homemade foot scrub in the camper. The fresh lemon scent filled the space and brought a sunny brightness to the gray day. With warm water, essential oils, and a bit of time to slow down, it was the perfect way to unwind and recharge.

Cow Pies, Cleanup, and Warm Showers

The next morning brought a surprise… or rather, Dasher found one. Mid-play, he discovered a particularly fragrant pile of cow poop and rolled in it with pride. Sigh. After breakfast, Bill sparked up the propane fire pit, and we were grateful for the extra warmth as we formulated a plan: a supply run into Laramie.

Ten degrees warmer and bathed in sunlight, Laramie was a welcome break. We grabbed dog shampoo and a few cheap towels before heading back to camp. There, the dogs got a well-earned spa day under the warm outdoor shower. Just as we finished, the dense fog rolled in again, wrapping the hills in a soft, dreamy haze.

While the dogs didn’t exactly thank us, they shook off their spa session and settled in for a long, snuggly nap. The smell of damp fur slowly filled the camper again as they dried off, nuzzled into blankets—and each other.

Pro Tip:
When camping with dogs in rainy weather, bring more towels than you think you’ll need—and dog shampoo. If your rig doesn’t have an outdoor shower, a bucket works just fine.

Hobbies, Hikes & Hilltop Views

Afternoon showers rolled in once more, so we made the most of the indoor time. I pulled out my adult coloring book—something I brought along just in case the weather turned. With a warm drink nearby and the soft patter of rain outside, I colored, Bill watched a movie, and the dogs snored peacefully.

Little Tip:
Always pack cards, a board game, or download a few movies in case you find yourself indoors more than expected. You’ll be glad you did.

Eventually, the skies began to clear, revealing patches of blue and sunshine that felt like a small reward for the soggy hours. We laced up our boots, gathered the dogs, and wandered up the hills around camp. The trees and grasses were still slick with rain, their colors saturated and glistening in the sunlight. Every step brought the fresh scent of pine and damp earth.

From the ridge, we could finally see farther than we had all weekend—across a sweeping expanse of green meadows framed by groves of pine and curling red dirt roads. The world felt wider and lighter under that clearing sky.

The hillside was wild and beautiful. Jagged rock formations rose in layers of rose-colored granite, dotted with scraggly junipers and lichen-covered logs. Dasher scrambled effortlessly over the boulders, stopping proudly on his perch like he’d climbed a mountain. Lennon took his time, nose to the ground, tail wagging. We paused among the rock outcroppings, soaking in the stillness of a landscape brushed clean by the rain.

Final Reflections

It wasn’t the sun-soaked weekend we’d imagined—but it was something quieter, cozier, and just as meaningful. It was a weekend of chasing squirrels, snuggling after warm showers, lemon-scented foot scrubs, and curling up with color pencils and creativity. It was sweeping muddy floors and laughing at cow-pie antics, navigating foggy mornings and savoring the calm that follows a storm.

And when the sky finally opened, the view from the hillside reminded us why we come out here in the first place—not for perfection, but for perspective.

It wasn’t just a getaway—it was a reminder to slow down, embrace the chaos, and find joy in the simplest, muddiest moments.