Ultimate Iditarod Update

Snow-filled clouds linger over the mountains as Jim's 14-dog team runs down the trail. This portion of the trail is fairly well packed due to winds that compact and drift the snow on the exposed slopes.

Snow has continued to lightly fall most days over the past week, and the trails are gradually filling up with the stuff. In fact, the trails are now covered with a thick enough layer of snow to make running large teams safe and very fun!!! Over the past few days, we have been running 14-dog teams, just as we did this fall with the four-wheelers.

To keep the dogs slowed down, I dumped 40 pounds of dog food and 20 pounds of chains into the bottom of my sled to act as "ballast." Even with the extra weight and fresh snow on the trails, the dogs still move along at great pace, and their power is thrilling to feel as it runs through the gangline, down the runners of the sled, and under my feet.

The dogs' amazing power can lead to some interesting experiences, however, and I had one pretty funny one on Sunday. As we approached the half way point of a 30-mile run, we needed to make a left turn onto a different road. For some reason, Orion and Willow, two excellent leaders, were sure that we should go right instead. No problem. In cases when the leaders are confused about where to go, we put our snow hooks, (double-pronged steel hooks about a foot long), into the trail, and show the leaders where to go by either physically leading them to the right direction, or calling to them while you stand where you want them to go. The snow hooks theoretically are supposed to hold the sled and team and prevent the dogs from going down the trail without their musher. In practice, the dogs are so powerful, that even two of these snow hooks are no match for an excited, energetic team that doesn't want to stay still. Fortunately, my snow hooks held as I showed Willow and Orion the right direction.

This is about what the musher sees as he or she stands on the back of the sled. 70 feet separate the musher from the lead dogs in a 14-dog team like the one shown here.

Unfortunately, stopping on a corner with a 70-foot long dog team is never a good idea. When the sled is stopped, the dogs continue to lean into their lines and lunge and bark and so on. When you are stopped on a corner, this pulling and jumping results in the entire team being on the extreme inside of the corner, and the sled has no choice but to follow right behind the dogs. Often times trees, rocks, an old Volkswagon, or an unsuspecting tourist are waiting on the inside of the corner. If for some reason the driver needed to stop in the midst of a corner, the sled has a huge chance of hitting whatever is in the way.

All this is to say that a 6-foot deep ditch was on the inside of the corner where I was stopped reminding my lead dogs which way left was. When I returned to the sled after getting Orion and Willow on the right, well actually left, trail, the sled was pointing directly at the ditch. My dogs haven't learned reverse yet, so the only way to go was forward, and that we did--a nose dive right into the ditch, in fact.

The dogs were able to pull the nose of the sled up out of the bottom of the ditch immediately, but the sled stalled when the nose was pointed straight in the air at the top of the ditch and a 225-pound musher and 60 pounds of dog food and chains were stuck in the bottom. Let's just say I got a nice view of the culvert running under the old Fawn Peak Road.

I held on tightly to the sled, called to the dogs to "Hike Up!", and pushed with all my strength. The sled jumped out of the ditch, dog food, chains, and all, and I was right behind. But I wasn't able to gracefully jump like the sled, so instead I ended up face down dragging behind my sled hanging on to the base of the handle bars where they meet the runners. As soon as the sled was back on the trail, the dogs took off, and we were off to the races, with me bouncing along behind like Indiana Jones. Luckily, one of the snow hooks had also fallen off the sled and was dragging along the trail by the rope that attaches it to the team. I held on with one hand while grabbing the hook with the other, and put the hook into the snow, saying "WHOA!" at the same time. We came to a nice silent stop, I stood up on the runners, glanced at the team to make sure the dogs were all fine (they were looking back at me wondering why we had just stopped again), and then I bent down, pulled out the snow hook, and didn't stop again until we were back at the dog yard.

No one but the dogs and their musher for miles and miles........

That is why we mushers like to train in the mountains on deserted logging roads and backwoods trails. One usually doesn't have to watch us too long to see something that could win Grand Prize on America's Funniest Home Videos.

Oh, and by the way, Tyrell Seavey and I will be hosting a chat this Friday beginning at 12:00 Noon Pacific Time. Feel free to log on to the site and join the chat. See you there.