Letting desire triumph over common sense, I pulled up at the Montana Creek trailhead and parked the car in one of the spaces shared by trail users and customers of the outdoor gun range. Aki, having waited patiently until late afternoon for this adventure, shot out of the car just before someone emptied the clip of their high powered rifled at a gun range target. Scared of gun shots and fire crackers, the little poodle-mix charged full speed down the trail to escape the noise.    You might think this is irrefutable proof of my lack of common sense, but consider that someone relocated the trailhead to the edge of this war zone after my last visit to Montana Creek. Also, it being dusk, I had a right to expect quiet as no one should have been taking target practice at the unlit range since it closes at sunset. Those were the defenses I planned to raise at Aki’s inquest. They weren’t needed. The little dog appeared a kilometer down the trail, tail wagging as she trotted behind a homeward bound skier. Apparently my fear of losing my fellow adventurer lasted longer than her gunshot-induced terror.