T Rose Dogs

Rohn to Nikolai

2011-06-23T15:28:00.000-07:00

Start - Rohn: 272 miles

Rohn – Nikoli: 80 miles

Most of my time at Rohn was spent making different meals for the dogs (soaked meat, soaked meat and fat, soaked meat and kibble, dry kibble, fish, frozen meat snacks, all combinations possible….), most of which they ignored. I also typically spent a bit of time on dog care; wrapping wrists, short massages, etc. This all boils down to: a tired musher. I hadn’t gotten any sleep yet and I was beginning to feel it. But I scheduled myself to leave Rohn after a 6 hour stay, and I left after 5 hours and 56 minutes.

There were two final scare monger trophies to tackle, both in the upcoming run: the glacier out of Rohn, and the Farewell Burn. I was so tired however, that I just didn’t care about the ‘ooh scary Iditarod trail’ anymore. A note on 'glaciers.' Glaciers in the mushing world are sheets of ice, made by flowing water that surfaces and pools or runs down a slope then freezes. When trails cross these, dogs and sleds get no traction; everything slips and slides and/or flips on it's/their sides.

I left Rohn with 14 dogs and they all looked very good. Some people advise to never leave Rohn with a fresh dog team (more fear mongering); the trail is just too dangerous. They suggest going through Rohn and camping two or three miles out, once the ‘crap’ trail out of Rohn and the glacier have been passed. But, there a plenty of people who camp at Rohn and survive just fine. Some people also suggest leaving Rohn in the light, so as not to miss the turn onto the Kuskokwim River. Others say to leave in the dark, so that the reflectors marking the trail can be picked up more easily. All of the different options and suggestions could make a person a little nuts.

Anyway, I left Rohn at about 6:15 in the evening; it was still light. The first hazard out of Rohn was crossing the Kuskokwim River. It’s a very windy spot so all the snow was blown off the frozen river. The trail out of Rohn goes sort of diagonally down the river to the opposite bank. I didn’t see any markers right away, but Hailey seemed to know where she was going. Then I saw markers…. over there, to the right. I tried getting the team over to the markers, but I had no control of the sled due to being on glare ice. ‘Gee gee gee’ I kept yelling. Hailey’s an amazing dog, but not always the best gee haw dog (ie, doesn’t respond to commands so well). Then I saw a drop off where the ice had broken, ‘crap.’ Off the dogs went, and thankfully it was only a couple of feet. Then I saw the trail on the opposite bank, Hailey was heading right for it. The trail was fairly good for a short while, then I understood what they meant by ‘crap trail out of Rohn.’ There was no snow on the trail and it was full of roots. Sleds don’t handle well on frozen dirt and roots. They just slide and bounce around. It was very, very annoying. I can’t say I was nervous or scared, just annoyed. I was also anxious about the glacier, due about 45 minutes out of Rohn.

It was still light when we got there. The whole experience was a little surreal actually. Hailey was in single lead, picking her way along the windy trail. All of a sudden I saw the glacier on the right. It was very large (maybe 25' high), and very steep; but it was my lucky day, it was covered with a small layer of snow (traction!). Hailey just kept going along the base, like she knew where she was going. I didn’t tell her otherwise, because I sure didn’t want to go straight up the face of the thing. I just waited to see if the trail skirted around and up; sure enough it did. Hailey didn’t miss a step and gave no indication that this was anything but normal trail. She just followed a trail on the far side that went straight up the side of the glacier. There was no slipping, so scrambling, no confusion, no turning back. Piece of cake. I just started giggling out loud, ‘Dogs! That was the glacier!’ I later heard of all sorts of stories of people getting stuck on the glacier. One team’s dogs turning around and sliding back to the bottom. Art’s dogs wanted to go straight up the glacier, got all tangled up, and he had to let the all loose in order to untangle the gangline.

After the glacier the trail improved slightly and we began running up and down short hills, endless hills; this stretch is called the Buffalo Tunnels. It was dark, and time passes incredibly slow in the dark. Everything looks the same, just a headlamp glow in the dark. No mountains, or rivers, to look at, just dark. I stopped for a short break, to split the 80 mile run into two forty mile runs, at ‘Buffalo Camp.’ This use to be an area where buffalo hunters erected a few tent and camped out. It was abandoned now, and it was cold. I don’t know if the weather had changed or I had dropped in elevation, but it was noticeably cold, -35 was my guess. I bedded down the dogs with straw that I had carried and hoped for some better appetites while I got their snack ready. I had put soaked kibble and meat in the cooler and spooned it out for them. Very little action. I dumped the gruel on the ground before it froze solid in the bowls; a few preferred that option and ate, while some others just turned their noses and curled up for a nap.

When I arrive at Buffalo Camp there were 2 mushers, Karen Ramstead and Wattie Mcdonald. Karen left shortly after arrived, followed by Wattie. Wattie’s exit was not so smooth. He was parked facing the wrong direction, so I helped pull the dog around to fact the outbound trail. While he was leaving though, Art Church came barreling through with the young Buser dogs he was driving and both ended up in the outbound trail at the same time. They didn’t fit very well and got completely tangled. It was a mess, but they got all sorted out and I was left to myself, in the cold. I tried taking a little nap on top of my sled, which is difficult in the cold, but I was tired. I must have dozed for a bit, as I woke in a fog of disorientation. I heard what sounded like thundering hooves of buffalo. I opened my dried eyes and peered out my parka to see a herd of beasts running towards me, from what seemed to be the woods. There was steam rising from them and I could just see a herd of silhouettes outlined through a light beam. This must be a dog team but why are they coming from the woods?! I sat up in a panic and realized that I was just dazed and confused. It was Trent Herbst with his big, hairy Stealstra dogs, thundering in from the trail for a break. I chuckled and told him I thought he was a heard of buffalo about to run me over.

It was time to take off anyways (3 hour stop), so I packed up and set off for the last of the known trail hazards, the Farewell Burn. So far, the difficult spots were all doable. In fact, they weren’t just doable, they were just hard enough to be fun. The Burn was a different story. When mean people die, they go to the burn. This was an evil place. This is known as a difficult part of trail due to the miles and miles of tussock, with no relief. Tussock are balls of frozen grass stumps and can range in size from small and unnoticeable to basketball size. These were large and dangerous. And since there was no snow, not a bit, they were really large. Two other insults added to the excitement; we were running in the wee hours of the morning, and it was cold. Dogs like to run at night; they like to run at 2 am even more. They were crazy, wild beasts; hard to control and causing me to call them bad names. The cold was significant because I had to wear my glasses (contacts were lost). My glasses weren’t just fogged up, they were froze up. I couldn’t let go of the handlebar very often to rub the ice off them. I was half blind.

The trail was awful; scary and awful. We bounced terribly through the tussocks. I was unable to slow them down much because the brake pad would get caught up on the tussocks and I feared tearing it off. I would be in a real bind if that happened. So I would keep the brake pad up most of the time, then let it down (with a string pully) if I saw a gap in the mounds to give a break here and there, trying desperately to slow the dogs. I thought I would surely see sled parts, dog parts, people parts strewn along the trail; but I didn’t really. I saw a couple of runner plastics (the long plastic piece that goes under the sled runners), but that’s it. Keeping that sled upright though the 15 miles of tussock was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I knew that if I let the sled tip, there would be a good chance of me being hurt and/or losing the sled. I held on for dear life and worked very hard to keep things upright. I was so very very happy when we were through the Burn. The dogs didn’t seem to understand my fear whatsoever. They were having a great time.

The run into Nikoli was a couple of hours after the Burn. It was wonderful, calm trail; in and out of sloughs. It was just quiet calm trail in which to see the sunrise. We reached Nikolai at 7:37 am. As I was checking in at the entrance to the checkpoint, the Iditarod photographer came over and got a shot of me and my frosted-over glasses, and Muggles, mid-air, as he jumped in impatience when the sled stopped. The little bugger wasn’t tired at all.

Nikolai is a small, low lying Athabascan village. Many of its people volunteer for the race; heating water for the dogs, bringing drop bags and straw to the musheres, cleaning up straw, etc. The mushers rested in the school building, and rest I did. I first ate a meal that the village women made for us, soup and bread, then I went into the darkened gym with pads on which to sleep. I put some earplugs in (Wattie, famous snorer, was there) and out I went for about 3 hours; my first sleep in my race.

I stayed in Nikolai for 8 hours, as planned. By racing standards, an 8 hour layover is a long stop. But for a rookie, it goes by very fast. My goal was to have the dogs bedded down and fed in 1 hour; this included any necessary medical care for the dogs. I also gave the dogs a snack 1.5-2 hours before we left a checkpoint. So I had a few hours within this window to heat my food, eat, unpack drop bags and pack for the next run. My window became a little smaller also as dogs didn’t eat and I put together different meals to see what they’d eat. I also had a lot of wrists and body parts to care for. As I got more tired, any checkpoint routine that I might have had became a bit blurry. I found myself walking in rookie circles and not being efficient. Top mushers have strict routines and learn to shave every second of every movement. They can do their work in their sleep, literally. No wasted walking, no wasted time. They also have the best of the best dogs; ones that don’t get injured, or require a lot of work. But us rookies have a lot to learn and just do the best we can. 8 hours goes by very, very fast.

Rainy Pass to Rohn

2011-06-05T00:21:00.000-07:00

I pulled the hook from miserable, windy, cold Rainy Pass at 7:55 am. It was windy in the Rainy Pass checkpoint, and it was windy going out of the checkpoint, but not awfully horrible, just moderately horrible. We left a sort of bowl area and started to climb……. then……. it got WINDY! Holy cow it was windy. It was a horizontal white out; just like the film clips I’ve seen of the Iditarod. There was no apparent trail. It was blown over and under a good foot of snow. I remained calm and thought, “no one in front of me has turned around, so this is all completely doable.” This thought, and the actions of my dogs kept me calm. I had Hailey and Dill up front, my two best leaders. I couldn’t see a trail but I could see the markers. The dogs also couldn’t see, smell or feel the trail, as the wind-blown snow was so deep. So I just had to ‘gee’ and ‘haw’ them to the next trail marker, one trail marker at a time. The trail markers are slats of wood with the top painted bright orange and a small piece of reflective tape stapled to the top. The markers are actually easier to pick up in the dark, with the reflectors beaming back at your headlamp light. But it was light out, which I chose to leave in so that I could see, but I couldn’t see, because it was a white out. Go figure. So we traveled marker to marker, meaning that I would steer the dogs to the next marker, the only one I could see, then I would usually be able to pick up the next marker and steer them to that one, etc. Occasionally I would have to stop to fix a tangle or look for a marker. During these stops, the dogs would bark and scream and jump up and bang on their harnesses. The little buggers were having fun! They gave me absolute confidence that they could do this. We kept at this for a couple of hours (hard to tell), and finally the wind started to calm as we got further into the pass. With the white out behind me, I could see my surroundings. I was on a huge saddle, with peaks to each side of me and the trail meandering through thick willows. Gorgeous. The trail was now coherent, for the most part, and traveling was fairly easy. I had heard that the other side of the pass could be very tricky with a lot of side hill trail (meaning that the trail goes along a hill but is not cut into the hill, so you have to tip the sled up into the hill so that the uphill runner digs into the hillside vs just sliding down, off the trail). Once we were over the pass, we followed a little stream and dodged in and out of little willow patches and round banks. It was all fun and entertaining, no grueling sidehills to be seen. Hmm?
So to review the list that the fear mongers use to make Iditarod rookies wince: Happy River steps, Rainy Pass, Dalzell Gorge, crap trail and glacier out of Rhone, the Burn. So my next adventure was the Dalzell Gorge, gulp!
The trail continued in a downward orientation, nothing too drastic, just little ins and outs. I was in a constant state of holding my breath though, anticipating the drop into the Gorge. I then became abruptly focused when the trail took a sharp left, then a strong, steep descent. The trail was very narrow and there was a sharp drop off to my right. I knew I was starting into the Gorge. Wondering if that was the steepest part of the decent, the answer became apparent. No. All of a sudden the trail dropped out from under me. I hate it when that happens. It felt like a free fall almost, which it wasn’t, but that’s what it felt like. The dogs didn’t mind it. I never like the lack of control and I worry about hurting a dog through steep descents like that. All I could do was keep my balance while braking as hard as I could and know that it would be over in a very short period of time. And it was. We screamed to the bottom of the narrow descent and glided into the Gorge.
At that point, I was so thankful that I had left Rainy Pass later in the morning, because the Gorge was an amazingly beautiful place. I would have hated to miss it in the dark of an early morning run. The trail hugged the banks of the river and took several crosses to the opposite bank; all enclosed within the dark, rocky, vertical walls of the gorge. The river crossings were over ice bridges. Ice bridges are formed after a river surface has frozen and pockets of the ice collapse over the receding river water bellow. The resulting holes in the ice can be very large, with narrow ice bridges left between them. There had been a lot of concern about travel over the ice bridges before the race started, as there was very little snow at that point and the ice bridges were slick on top. Luckily, it had snowed quite a bit since the race start, leaving a trail of snow over the bridges, giving us a stable and maneuverable surface. My trip through the Gorge was uneventful and just an incredibly scenic ride.
Just before leaving the Gorge though, I did have an eerie experience. We were running along the left bank, almost to the last ice bridge, when I noticed out of the corner of my eye an ice bridge just upstream from the one I was about to cross. Most of the bridge had collapsed, with only about 6 inches of width left for a stretch of about 3 or 4 feet. What was eerie though, was the very fresh tracks that were on both sides of the collapsed section. The tracks were from a snow machine. I realized that this had been the Iditarod trail a very short while ago. The thought of my going over that collapsed bridge gave me sharp tingles of fear down to my toes. The bottom of the river was at least 8 feet below the trail. When I got into Rohn a short while later, a trail crew member found me and asked if I had noticed the trail redirection. I told him that I didn’t notice anything odd about the trail, but I did notice the old, broken ice bridge trail. He said that the bridge collapsed after he had driven his snow machine over it, and he had barely had enough time to find another bridge, get back across the river, ‘x’ off the old trail, and redirect it to the new bridge, before I came upon it. My run to Rohn could have been so very different.
I arrived at Rohn at 12:40 in the afternoon. The sun was out, winds were calm; it was a peaceful afternoon. Rohn is a picturesque checkpoint, centered at a recreational cabin surrounded by beautiful peaks. The dogs are parked in the middle of tall pines, thus sheltered from any wind. It’s a good spot for them to rest. The volunteers at Rohn have been working that particular checkpoint for many years. I know Jasper has been there for at least 18 years. He runs it like a veteran ship captain.
My first problem at Rohn was my dog Bullet. She had been running a nice, uneventful race, but came into Rohn favoring her left front leg. Nothing bad enough for me to put her in the sled, but I had noticed it shortly after leaving the gorge, and it had gotten worse as we made our way to the checkpoint. As soon as I got into the checkpoint, the vets were right there and I asked them to give her particular attention as they examined the team. It appeared to be a left shoulder. A ‘shoulder’ injure is a vague and frustrating injury. It could be one of many, many things in that complicated area of the body. So it was very hard to know if it was an injury that I could work on and get Bullet through the race, or if she needed to be dropped right away. The vets advised dropping her, as they see few shoulder injuries that improve along the race. I told them I’d think about it, but I knew I’d drop her. I just needed to time to come to terms with it. Bullet isn’t my best dog, far from it actually. But she is one of my favorite dogs. She is my buddy and I love traveling with her. She is the happiest dog in my kennel and just a joy to have around. So I was not happy to lose her, not happy at all. But the run out of Rohn is very long and treacherous. It is not a run where you want an injured dog, or to bag a dog. So to be on the safe side, for both Bullet and the team (and so I wouldn’t stare at her constantly all the way to Nikoli) I decided to drop her in Rohn.
My second problem in Rohn was that the dogs were not eating. I tried a couple of different meal options (taking more time away from my rest), but nothing seemed to interest them. I was starting to get really worried about this and was wondering what was going on. Feeding racing sled dogs is it’s own art and science, one that I had not (and still have not) mastered. When dogs race long distances, they lose their appetites (as do people). It takes a lot of experience to know what to feed them, when, and how much; not only during a race, but throughout the training season. Lance Mackey bases his breeding and selection of dogs, in large part on their desire to eat during a race. Appetite and durability of feet are his two main criteria for his dogs. Speed is less important, because as long as a dog eats and has healthy feet, he will be happy to keep going. I wondered how long my picky eating dogs would keep going.

completing projects....

2011-06-05T00:14:00.000-07:00

I generally like completion. It's neat, it's tidy, it feels good. I would like to continue my Iditarod story for completion sake, but I also know that there a few people out there, like my friend Joe in Manteca, CA who would like to know 'the rest of the story.' I'd also like to summarize my Yukon Quest trip from this last winter, but I certainly can't dive into that story until the Iditarod race is finished. So if there are people still out there who are interested, I'll do my best to get this done.

Finger Lake to Rainey Pass

2010-10-04T00:20:00.000-07:00

The trail out of Finger Lake was cut sharp and deep in the snow. In fact the dogs seemed to still have a sense of humor and played a little joke on me on the way out of the checkpoint. We had to climb up and over a little hill directly out of the chute. The trail turned and forked at the crest of the hill, with the left fork going back to the posh cookhouse and the right being the correct trail for the mushers. The corner was sharp enough that the lead dogs were well through the left fork by the time I saw their wrong direction…they obviously wanted an egg and black bean burrito and I sure didn’t blame them. I did not want to travel through the tight junctions within the checkpoint buildings, then down the steep embankment to the dog parking area; just to start the process over again. It was a matter of pride and practicality. So I stopped the dogs, and with no possibility of going in reverse, I simply drug the front half of the team through and over the waist deep snow of the ‘Y’, and over to the right trail. It was a sweaty ordeal. I was happy no one saw my state right out of camp and was actually a little surprised that my clumsy tracks were the first across the pristine snow between the fork in the trail. Anyway, THEN we were off.

Ok, so I left Finger Lake at 7pm. The trail was truly beautiful through this section. The heavy snow had obviously hit all of this foothill area, not just the river systems we had traveled already. The trail went through rolling hills and the base of the Alaska Range, through forests that were sparse, sparse enough to open up and feel surrounded by the blanket of snow. In the back of my mind, I had the anxiety of running down the Happy River Steps, but I tried, successfully, to just put that aside while we were all have a good time; and we all were indeed having a good time. The dogs loved this trail. They love ups and downs, ins and outs. They looked forward to each turn, to see what was around the bend. What was up ahead? What would the new trail bring. It was all just a beautiful thing.

We were told that we would come upon the Happy River Steps in about an hour and a half. At a bit over an hour, I let that lingering thought at the back of my head surface closer to the front. I had seen part of the Steps on the Iditarod Insider videos, but that’s all I knew of them. Martin Buser had mentioned them in the rookie meeting. Saying something about, ‘whatever you do, don’t brake into the corners and don’t let the fact that you see your lead dog coming around on the trail just below you bother you’. Yada yada yada. We had a few false starts at the steps; a number a little ridges that the trail crossed over. I thought, ‘well, that certainly wasn’t them.’ Then there were a couple of big steps, but big soft steps. I was thankful for the snow. ‘Was that them?’ I wondered. Then we went through a couple of steep and sharp turns; ‘was that part of the steps?’ Then we went down one more steep ridge, and I do remember thinking, ‘if there were no snow here, that drop would really suck.’ At that moment, I saw what I thought was a chair beside the trail. ‘Hmmm, maybe that’s where the cameraman sat for the first part of the group. Therefore, that all must have been the Happy River Steps.’ Turns out that the ‘chair’ was the back half of Karin Hendrickson’s sled. She had a sit down sled and the ‘chair’ was the back half of her sled. Her runners had broken between her bag and her ‘sit down’ part. I had indeed just gone through the Happy River Steps.

I thought I was suppose to go over the Happy River; but I just never could find it. I thought maybe I took a different route or something, it just wasn’t like the picture I had in my head. There were no turns off the trail though, and the route was very obvious. After the Steps, the trail just kept going through similar country of foothills, with switchbacks, drops and little climbs. It had gotten dark by this point. There was one more challenging section before Rainy Pass that I didn’t remember anyone talking about. There was a long decent, through very curvy trail, with every corner hugging a tree and with the trail having very very deep gouges due to everyone in front of me braking at the corner. The trenches were a couple of feet deep and I did not want to get sucked into them. If I did, and I did once by mistake, there was no way to control the sled, it would just shoot through the trench then pin ball down the lane, possible going off the trail and/or hitting tree(s) when out of control. Instead, I worked it. I tilted the sled up on the outside/uphill runner to steer the sled clear of the sled-sucker trench and have complete control out of the turn. My Gatt sled was amazingly maneuverable and I was saying good things in Hans Gatt’s direction during this run.

I was almost to Rainy Pass, when the dogs perked up their ears and started surging ahead. I then saw a head lamp. I thought maybe someone was just snacking their dogs, so just slowed down and hoped I wouldn’t run up on them. I then heard a voice, ‘I’ve had a crash.’ A musher had lost his team through the pin ball alley and was on foot. This is a scary deal for us mushers. Dogs just go, and with no musher on the runners to slow them down and control the sled, the dogs can just go too fast and slower dogs may trip and be drug, a potentially life-threatening scenario. I don’t remember if we even discussed the options. He was obviously going to get on the runners with me and I was obviously going to take him down the trail until we found his dogs and/or reached the Rainy Pass checkpoint. The checkpoint was actually not far, and his dogs were happy and healthy at Rainy Pass. He was leasing a team from a vetran musher, and these dogs were an older trap-line crew, amazingly constant and stable. They ran 8 miles per hour whether he was on the runners or not. No slower, no faster. What a team!

I arrived at Rainy Pass at 10:30 pm. It was not a pleasant place. The wind was HOWLING and it was cold. I parked the team in what felt like an open field, there was just no protection anywhere. The wind was relentless. I had to grab the food bowls as I spooned the stew in them for the dogs. I put my warmest jackets on all the dogs, even the furriest of the lot. I had packed 4’x4’ fleece blankets in the check point bags and put these on all the dogs, but the wind just blew them off. They didn’t really want to eat, and they didn’t seem to be able to sleep very well. I did not like Rainy Pass.

To add to my dislike of the place, my friend Allen Moore was just leaving when I was taking care of the dogs. It was nice to chat with him briefly, but he was just as unhappy as I was, maybe even more unhappy because he had to leave in this crappy weather. Allen may run the youngsters of SP Kennel (SP Kennel of Aliy Zirkle and Allen Moore), but he is one of the most successful and competent mushers in the race. I listen to Allen, I listen intently. When Allen is not happy with having to go through some weather, I am not happy about the same prospect. But he was sticking to his schedule and that was that. He was unhappy also because he had gotten stuck in such a storm in a previous Iditarod. He and a few other mushers left in a similar weather and lost the trail over the pass. They did find their way eventually, but it was a scary run for all of them. This is what was in Allen’s head when he and I were talking, as he was getting the dogs ready for take off. I continued to take care of my dogs and tried to not get weak legs.

I found the mushers cabin and hoped to get a couple of hours of rest. Karen Ramstead was in the small cabin, with her dogs already fed and put to bed. She runs Siberian Huskys and I was sure that their thick coats served them well at that moment. Karen is great fun to talk to and I have always enjoyed her company in the few races in which we both ran. I also remember Karen in the 2006 Iditarod, when I was a race veterinarian. She was one of my favorite mushers. She runs ‘sibes’, a slower dog than Alaskan huskies, thus she is not expecting to be in the top ten finishers. But by god she runs a good race. She is efficient, has good dog care, and has a great attitude. She is not going to let a few hours of negative sleep ruin her day! Having said that though, she was not having a good time. She had a wound on her hand that had gotten infected and her antibiotics were not settling well with her. She was planning on staying on schedule though and seeing how this would all play out.

I found a spot on a top bunk to lie down. I wasn’t able to sleep, but did close my eyes for a bit and tried to relax my head. I always hope that this relaxed state will somehow count towards brain rest. I was almost on schedule at this point. My runs were a little faster than expected and I was making up on some time that I had lost when I lost my contacts. I was suppose to rest for 5 hours and leave at 3:10 am. I got up at 1 am and checked on the dogs and the weather. The dogs were hunkered up in little balls, with the snow blowing up over them. The weather was just getting worse it seemed. I didn’t quite know how I was going to see through all of this. I was sure I would have to wear my goggles through the storm, but wouldn’t be able to wear my glasses under the goggles (the notorious fogging). So I scrapped the schedule and decided to leave a little after daybreak. I just felt too insecure. This gave me a couple more hours of rest too, which I didn’t complain about. I just wished we were in a more hospitable spot for the dogs.

The next time I peeked my head out of the cabin, it was just starting to get light. The wind was still relentless. At that point, I just wanted to get out of there. So I packed up and went out to the dogs. I went through my drop bags and packed the sled, in what was the most inefficient way possible, I’m sure. It took me half the race to get my checkpoint act in gear. I did finally get packed up though, snacked the dogs and got us all on the trail. The storm had not subsided in the least bit and I was heading out on my own. I used the logic: ‘if it was really bad out there, mushers would be turning around and coming back to the checkpoint.’ No one had returned. So I used my standby motivational montra: ‘if they can do it, I can do it.’ So off we went; 7:50 am.

I learned at the next checkpoint that Andy, the judge who was stuck at Rainy Pass (because nothing was flying in or out), closed the checkpoint shortly after I left. He let one musher leave behind me, Ross Adams, because he was a vetran musher with decades of experience, and would be there behind me if I had any troubles. No one else was allowed to leave for a short while due to the severity of the storm.

The Start to Finger Lake

2010-09-09T00:16:00.000-07:00

Start – Finger Lake

Official start time: 2:54 pm. The start of Iditarod was marked by people, lots of people. I saw people camped along the trail well into the night. They were mostly families wishing us all well, and young adults with bon fires and ample beverages. The dogs continued to do well through the crowds, but we all looked forward to quieter times ahead.

Our first run was along several lakes then onto large river systems. My goals were to keep the dogs slowed down enough to avoid injuries and also for me to get use to having 16 dogs in front of me. Yikes. The power was intimidating. Ok, short detour here. I have to admit that I had never run with 16 dogs prior to the start of Iditarod. There, I said it. I just didn’t have the conditions at home. Not enough snow, even in the White Mountains, to allow one to control such a crazy powerful group. Ok, back to the story at hand. We got to pass a couple people, but mostly got a good view of some great mushers passing us. Dee Dee passed in a flash of pink, turned around and gave us a wave. Martin Buser loped by like a freight train, with a nod in acknowledgment. That’s one of the cool things about this sport; newbies like me get to run with the greats (‘run with’ might be a couple of seconds, but we’re all in the same race!).

We reached Yentna while it was still daylight, 6:54 pm. I had Venus and Pepsi in lead, figuring that I’d have my third string leaders in the beginning of the race, as there weren’t many decisions to be made, and I wanted to keep my main leaders fresh for later. Another detour is in order. This was Venus’ first race. Her first race, ever. That is why she was ‘third string leader.’ She’s a great little dog I bought from Dean Osmar, but had a nagging shoulder injury earlier in the season, which kept her from previous races. Iditarod was her first race! Ok, back to the story. My plan was to stay in Yentna just a short bit, just enough to break up the run between the start and Skwenta (which would have been about a 7-8 hour run, a little far for my crew). The directions to the parking area of the Yentna rest area were confusing, but we got the turnoff right finally, accidentally actually. The parking area was right next to the through trail, which is confusing and distracting for the dogs. We also had to pull up alongside another parked musher, but without a volunteer to lead the dogs up. The dogs just think we’re passing someone, so they don’t know to keep a decent distance away from the parked musher. So we sort of ran up on the poor guy who was just trying to snack his dogs. Wait a minute, ‘poor guy’ my bootie, it’s Jeff King! Craaaaap. “What the hell are you doing?” was his first constructive criticism of my parking skills. He then brightened up a bit and said ‘welcome to Yentna!’ I got everyone straightened out and apologized for my rookie ways and all was ok.

The dogs didn’t rest at all though. Not one little bit. It wasn’t a good spot. We were too close to the trail and they just weren’t tired. But this was the plan and I stuck to it. The alternative would have been to run another 2 hours and camp between Yentna and Skwentna (a perfect distance for the dogs), go through Skwentna, then camp between Skwentna and Finger Lake. This is what I really wanted to do, but I just felt a little insecure about not knowing where the heck I was, and worrying that it might snow a lot (makes camping a pain, and snow is common in the beginning of Iditarod). I also wasn’t sure I’d be able to get the dogs off the main trail to a quiet camp spot. My dogs are not good at leaving the trail, we just haven’t done it enough. I can’t tell you how frustrating it is to put a snow hook in, run up and pull the leaders over to some little trail-like thing you want them to follow, just have them all reposition themselves back on the main trail, just as you get back to the sled. Do this over and over again and you’ll want to say really bad words. I found that an easier way of getting them over is to take the bale of straw up on the snow machine trail, then the dogs know what this all about – a nap! Then they’ll follow the straw and start camping on their own. But this requires me to walk around with straw and not be right by the team. No way was I going to do that with 16 dogs yanking on the snow hook.

I left Yenta at 10:54, after a 4 hours non-restful rest. The trail from Yentna to Skwentna was more river systems, which got progressively smaller. It was nice to get off the large river system that was basically snow machine highway, onto smaller, more intimate river bends. About half way between Yenta and Skwenta, Beaver, one of my main leaders started limping on his left front. It wasn’t a big limp, and he never quit pulling, but this had me worried. This dog rarely gets hurt, and he never stops. The snow was soft and a little deep. Dogs can pull muscles going through this stuff or by slipping off the side of the trail into deeper snow.

I arrived at Skwentna Road House at 12:24 a.m. and stopped for a real rest. Beaver was sore. He was also dramatic, which he can be at times. He just layed on his side, looking miserable. Once I parked, I looked him over and found that he had pulled a pectoral muscle (the muscle between his shoulder and his breast bond basically). He had probably pulled this the week before the start and it hadn’t healed up (my friends Sarah and Clint ran the dogs before the start, while I was in meetings and noticed that he was a little off). I found a vet and dropped him right away, making sure they give him some anti-inflammatories. This was not a happy decision for me. He’s a very strong dog and he will always lead. I was hoping to keep him in the team and put him in lead later in the race when some of the younger leaders would probably get insecure about being up front. But I knew that snow was in the forecast, and a deep trail is no good for s pectoral muscle pull; it was what it was.

Hindsight is 20:20 as they say. I can’t say that I shouldn’t have dropped him, but I can say that I shouldn’t have dropped him so fast. This is a long race; a long long race. It’s not a 200 or 300 mile race where you can drop a questionable dog with little consequence. In Iditarod, if you drop every dog with a little ding, without even trying to work them through it, there will be no dogs left. I learned this as I progressed through the race, as you will see. So one of my lessons from Iditarod is to not drop a dog when you come into a checkpoint (unless it’s a serious health issue of course). Rather, examine the dog, have the vets give a second opinion, then work on the dog while in the checkpoint. Make the decision at the end of the rest, or at the next checkpoint. Basically, see if you can manage the dog and injury. It took a couple of dropped dogs before I learned this, as I’m pretty tight with the dogs and I just don’t want to run them if they are hurt. You’ll see however, that I was able to work several dogs through muscle pulls and sore joints, and I was able to get slightly injured dogs to finish the race, with no injuries at all.

The Skwentna checkpoint was based out of a roadhouse high above the river. The cabin was warm and the gals who ‘womaned’ the operation were pleasant and very interested in feeding us well. The cabin was full, as the mushers were still close together in the race. I was just behind the main group, in fact Dee Dee was still there, talking and having a good time (how is she visiting while I feel so amazingly tired?). I got a good bite to eat, then went up to the loft for a little rest. I layed down for an hour but wasn’t able to sleep. It takes me a long time to be able to sleep on a race. I was tired, but there’s always noise in checkpoints; snoring being the main distractor. There’s also people talking and walking, coming and going.

I wear contacts in races but have to remove them whenever possible to give my eyes a break, they’re sensitive. I took my contacts out before laying down, and managed to lose them somewhere in the process. When I discovered this, I looked and looked – no contacts. This put me ½ hour behind my schedule, but I really did need my contacts. I knew I had packed backup contacts down the trail, but I couldn’t remember which check points I had sent them to. Luckily it was warm enough (at that point) that I could wear my glasses without them fogging up too much. I wondered how long the warm weather would hold out.

So after a 6 hour rest for the dogs, I just had to go, and hope for the best. I left Skwentna at 6:25 a.m. It began snowing shortly after leaving. It snowed, and snowed. The trail was over smaller river systems and land portages between them. The trail became slow and sloggy. But we progressed well and the dogs looked good. We weren’t getting passed, so I figured our speed, which felt slow to me, must have been not much slower than those around me. We left Skwentna in the early morning and got to see the sunrise after about an hour of running. This is my favorite time to run dogs. A sunrise in the Alaska winter is a beautiful thing; rosie colors over the white landscape. The daylight also helps keep me awake. The terrain was interesting also; in and out of spruce woods, over frozen ponds and lakes and areas that were impassable bogs in the summer. Looking back, I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what sort of landscape I was running over; or ‘waterscape’ for that matter. You can’t always tell. I sometimes thought I was running over a lake, just to suddenly see tuffs of dried grass poking up through the snow.

Finger Lake was the next checkpoint; I arrived at 12:10 pm, a little under 6 hours of running. It was nice to get that run over with. It had begun to snow hard, and the trail was just getting buried deeper and deeper. It was snowing so hard at the checkpoint that I had to be very careful not to leave my sled bag open at all; the bag would just fill with big fluffy, messy, snow, really quickly. Not only was this checkpoint frustrating because of the snow, but this is where I noticed that the dogs weren’t eating well. My feeding routine had been to get a pot of water heating up as fast as possible, add it to my frozen meat, fat and kibble; let that sit for 10 minutes, dish it out to the dogs. Half of them wanted none of it. I remember taking bits of lamb fat and feeding it to Kiana by hand. Many of them just didn’t seem hungry.

I did get to see a couple of friends at the Finger Lake checkpoint though. I caught a short conversation with Judy Currier soon after arriving. I wouldn’t see her again until Galena. Allen Moore was also there. Both Judy and Allen felt slow in the deep trail, so it wasn’t just me. Allen was also having some issues with a couple of sore dogs. Allen runs the young team of SP kennel, while Aliy Zirkle runs the A team. So Allen had a couple of 2 year olds that were just working things out and had to get use to the routine of a long race.

The roadhouse at Finger Lake was a bit surreal. The main room was a professional kitchen, with huge, beautiful stoves, ovens, prep tables, coolers and stainless steel racks of fruits and dry ingredients. It was just very odd and out of place. We were in the middle of nowhere. I mean really NOWHERE. Turns out it was a lodge which also houses a professional culinary arts school. Lucky us; as I ate one of the best, yet simplest meals on a race. Cuban black beans, white rice with cilantro, eggs over easy and flower tortillas. I was a happy girl. I was beginning to get really tired, but again, sleep escaped me. There were wall tents set up by the dog area – cold and noisy. No sleep. I tried laying my head down on the table in the roadhouse – uncomfortable and noisy. No sleep.

While not sleeping though, I had a good visit with other mushers and some of the race crew. Bruce Lee was in the roadhouse, grabbing a bite to eat while they were weathered in. Bruce Lee is a famous musher who retired a few years ago. He now lives down south, raising and running mules instead of dogs. He has been a main Iditarod commentator for the OLN network for several years, and it was fun to meet and chat with him (the film crew uses a plane or helicopter to go up and down the race, but couldn’t leave Finger Lake due to the snow). The fun however came to end when Celeste came into the kitchen for a meal. She began asking Bruce questions about all the fabled trail up ahead, like the Happy River Steps, the Gorge and the Burn. Bruce began a long description of the Gorge, talking about all of the mushers who had been sucked from the ice bridges into the 8 foot deep holes in the frozen river, into the ice cold water below. About how some people thought it was better to go through the Gorge in the dark, when one couldn’t see the horrors on each side of the trail. But that others didn’t dare send a rookie through the Gorge in the dark. Celeste got very quiet, and I was determined to ignore the man. Determined. ‘There’s nothing to fear, but fear itself,’ right? Later, as I was packing the sled and getting ready to go, Celeste came down to check on her dogs. I piped up with what I knew to be true, ‘Celeste, all sorts of people have run, successfully, through the Gorge.’ And to that, she replied ‘Hell yeah, you can even be blind and make it through!’

I left Finger Lake at 6:10 pm. I tried to enjoy the scenery instead of thinking about the trail to come: Rainy Pass, the Happy River Steps, the Gorge, and the Burn.

Iditarod: The Start

2010-05-11T22:54:00.000-07:00

The Iditarod start is a little crazy; and that’s an understatement. It’s actually a circus; an exhausting but mostly fun, circus. I spent more than 5 months of training, almost completely on my own, with just the dogs as companions. Then I, and the other mushers, convened in Anchorage for meetings, more meetings, then a banquet, and many, many, many fans who love to have the mushers sign hats, and t-shirts and books, and posters, and even their arms.

Let me back up. Once the food drops were done, I had a couple of weeks to get back to running the dogs and try to maintain their fitness. The snow in Fairbanks was dismal, we just didn’t have any. Aliy and Allen offered to let me go out to their place in Two Rivers and use their 4-wheeler (rather than trailer mine out there). The trails are so big there that I could hook up 20 dogs at a time (!!); yeah, 20 dogs! After I got over the anxiety of seeing the lengthy dog team before me, it became addicting. I could train just about every dog on the team in one run! That was just amazing (I can normally train between 8 and 12, depending on conditions and location). The dogs also did great in such a potentially crazy situation; but they are so use to training in neighborhoods with loose dogs, other dog teams, moose, cars, etc etc. Rick Swenson even passed us once, head on, on a tight corner. He was on a sled, because he’s Rick Swenson, and my dogs were prefect; not even a flinch at having another team zip by us so closely. A proud moment.

Other than train the dogs, the couple of weeks before the start just entailed assembling everything I was going to pack in my sled, going over sled repairs, and sending out 2 sleds and sticking some supplies in each. Most people send an extra sled out the MacGrath; it has a good sized airport (so it’s not too expensive) and it’s shortly after the worst part of the trail (Happy River steps, Dalzel Gorge, the Buffalo Tunnels, and the Burn). Many people have had to scratch because of a broken runner sled through one of these sections. I sent a sled to MacGrath, then also to Unalakleet. Usually it’s the gunners who send a sled to the coast (Unalaklett). They dump most of their gear and use a smaller, lighter, mid-distance sled. I had a 3rd sled, so I sent it. I just wasn’t going to let a sled mishap keep me from finishing. I also stuffed a few extra items in each sled, like a ladle (for feeding dogs), dog bowls, dog blankets, and extra boots.

The starting 16! I have such a small kennel, that picking the final 16 wasn’t hard. Basically, it was everyone who had no lameness issues: Dill, Beaver, Hailey, Simon, Venus, Pepsi, Bullit, Levi, Kobuk, Kiana, Nikki, Pilot, Muggles, Wizard, Weasely, and Hermione. Eight 2-yr olds; 12 of my dogs and 4 of Judy’s; 8 males and 8 females. I was happy with the team. Grumpy didn’t make the team because of a persistently sore hock. I had been massaging and wrapping with linament but I could still see a lameness. This really disappointed me. Grumpy was one of the best dogs in my yard. Little Kora didn’t make the team because of a sore wrist that I just couldn’t make disappear. Sadie stayed home because she has terrible feet. I love that dog. She has great heart, loves to go, and is incredibly strong. But I was afraid that her feet just wouldn’t hold up. Joe almost made the team, and he could, if he wanted to. But he loses focus, and/or confidence in races and I thought it best to leave him at home. Kaligan, a great 2-yr old, never got over a sore shoulder. I have high hopes for him, as he is incredibly focused on running and eating and running and eating. A perfect Iditarod dog. He will prove himself next year.

I had a good team of friends to help with the start: Sarah Love, Clint Warnke, Margie Eastman, and Denali Lovely. Ideally, the musher shouldn’t have to take care of the dogs while in Anchorage. The few days before the race are full of meetings and people, and any spare/quiet moments should be spent resting. So I was able to pry my tight grip off the dogs, with a lot of coaxing, and let my friends feed them and drop them for bathroom breaks.

The Mushers Meeting was the first engagement to attend in Anchorage. It was held on Thursday, March 4, all day. It was impressive to be in a meeting with Lance Mackey, Jeff King, Martin Buser, Hans Gatt and many, I mean MANY, other great mushers. The meeting was filled with talks about itineraries, trail conditions, race rules, etc etc. The meeting concluded with a group picture and a toast. The Start Banquet was held that night in downtown Anchorage. There was also a wine tasting event, just before the banquet. A winery in South Dakota made a special wine to commemorate the 2010 Iditarod, and they made 3 bottles per musher, each with the musher’s picture on the label. A bottle was auctioned off at the start banquet, one at the finishing banquet, and the musher was given the third bottle. The start banquet was filled with a lot of talking; that’s pretty much what I remember. But there was also a lot of visiting with other mushers over a nice meal, and most importantly, we each drew our start number. Each musher went to the podium, in the order that they signed up, and drew a number from a mukluk. I drew #26. That was a nice number; even and pleasant, and not too far forward and not too far back. After drawing our number, we got in an amazingly long line in which to sign autographs. Fans lined up on the other side of a rope divider, and we just walked down and signed and signed and signed and talked to the fans. It made me feel sort of famous and I also realized how much this race means to people. They dig it!

Friday was a day off. It was filled with last minute shopping, and resting, and eating, and visiting.
The ceremonial start was held in downtown Anchorage on Saturday. There is no longer a trail out of Anchorage due to, I believe, population and warming. But a ceremonial start is still head in this large city in order to share the race with the many fans who follow it. The City trucks in snow for the path through downtown, then the trail joins the many miles of inner-city cross-country ski trails to the finish, about 11 miles from the start. The fans in downtown and along the trail were 10,000 plus in number. The ceremonial start also uses the Iditarider program to generate money for the race. Each of the mushers is up for auction and the winner gets to ride in their sled during the ceremonial start. My Iditarider was Joselynn Mott, a veterinarian from Southern California. Her profession gave us something to talk about (although she’s an internist and beyond my cow vet ways), but what I was really happy about, was that she was small! Easy to drive the sled! We got her comfy and warm in the sled and off we went when it was our turn. The dogs did just great during all of this excitement. We had bridges to go over, large culverts to go through, and of course miles and miles of people right on the trail, clapping and yelling and offering hot dogs and cinnamon rolls!

Kiana gives a little love to an Iditarod volunteer at the ceremonial start.

Venus and Pepsi get a pep talk from Clint. I think Venus is more interested in giving a kiss.

The vets getting ready: me, Jocelynn, and Sarah.

Mom sneaking in a free ride to the starting line.

Lots of volunteers helping/holding the dogs at the starting line of the ceremonial start. Look at Hailey (tan dog, sedond in line, on our right).... and hint of things to come.

The end of the ceremonial start. Dogs and people are happy!

The official start was held on Sunday, March 7, in Willow, Alaska. Willow is about 1 ½ hours north of Anchorage. The weather was nice, a little warm for mushers and dogs, but perfect for the fans who lined the trail for many miles. Now I was starting to get a little nervous; not too bad, just a little. I was looking forward to getting on the quiet trail with the dogs; I missed them, as I hadn’t done much with them for the last 4 days! We parked, then started the waiting game, hours of waiting. But it gave me plenty of time to get everything organized and packed in the sled. Clint gave me some last minute strategy recommendations (strategy???? I’m just trying to finish this thing!). It was finally time to get the dogs out, put their booties on and harness them up. Then…… a major bummer blow. Margi was getting Hermione out, when Herm bolted out of the box for some reason, catapulting over Margi’s head and landing on top of Margie in a big crazy mess. Herm came up lame, very lame, on a back leg. Her hock was swelling before our eyes. I couldn’t believe it. I just couldn’t believe it. This sort of thing happens in a book, or a movie, or some other form of pretend situation; not here, not now, not with me….. and NOT with a dog that is not mine! Hermione is one of Judy’s favorite dogs, and with good reason. She is calm and smart and athletic and only 2 years old. I kept watching her, waiting for the lameness to work itself out, but it didn’t. I knew she wouldn’t be going. That’s when Clint piped up that Grumpy was just 10 minutes away and could be here by snow machine in mere minutes (he was brought down to his owner, my friend Russ Bybe who lives in Willow). So Grumpy made the start after all.

Packing and visiting with Dr. Mike Davis.

Dr. Margie Eastman, Queen Pooper Scooper.

Things then went quickly. The start of a sled dog race is always nerve-racking. There is team after team of dogs being harnessed and hooked up to the gangline. The dogs go nuts. There are 100s of dogs, barking and going nuts. The sound can be deafening. So I gathered my thoughts after the mishap with Herm, hoped for the best for her in my absence, and got focused back on the team. I got the dogs harnessed up and put all their booties on. I then instructed everyone where to place the dogs on the line. Then all of a sudden we are being called up to the line for the start. Mom is getting anxious and I hear her calling my Uncle George so that he can hear all the dogs barking. I am hoping she’ll be ok, I know she’s on the verge of tears, which always makes me on the verge of tears. Julie is a rock, as always.

Clint and Dr. Denali Lovely, holding the team as we go to the starting line.

Getting the team to the starting line.

At the starting line. Someone pinch me!

I am surrounded by dear friends who wish me luck and give me strength. I am reminded how special this adventure is, this trek with me and the dogs. I see the start chute. I’m really here. This is really happening. I’m at the start of Iditarod, and holy crap, I’m driving 16 dogs(I had never driven more than 14 dogs prior to this moment). I hear the speaker say my name, ‘Tamara Rose from Fairbanks……blah blah blah’ then I hear ’10, 9, 8…..’ and my god, look at all the people; where do they end? ‘5, 4, 3, 2, 1’ and we’re off!

Iditarod 2010: 12 days 39 minutes

2010-03-29T23:33:00.000-07:00

Hailey is my hero!

I've been back home for a couple of days. I finished the 2010 Iditarod over a week ago. I am ALMOST back to normal, almost. For some reason I thought after a couple nights rest I'd be back in the saddle, running around like normal and ready for anything. Wrong. I've been sleepy for over a week. So I am slowly catching up and am currently working on a summary of my great and wonderful Iditarod adventure. For now, I will just say that I had a great time, not without it's challenges, but I was strong and happy always and the dogs did a fantastic job.

Hailey deserves special mention. She ran in single lead for the last part of the race (from Koyuk to the finish), and was a major leader for the majority of the race. She heald us all together. Thank you Hailey!

Ok, more later, as I will transcribe the summary onto the blog. I hope I can remember things, as it all seems like a fuzzy dream right now.

'til then,

T Rose

Iditarod Update- Posted by Julie

2010-03-15T21:08:00.000-07:00

Hello,

For those of you who haven't received my emails. I thought I would post a quick update on Tamara's blog. Including a picture of her after she lost her contacts and was forced to mush with her glasses when it was 25 below. This picture was taken when she came into Nikolai.

Tamara is doing great. Right now she is in Kaltag ending an 8 hour break before she heads out to Unalakleet. This is a very long run which is taking most mushers anywhere between 10-18 hours. She will have to stop for a rest somewhere along the way. The coastal runs are known for extremely high winds and cold making the mushers journey pretty tough. So, a good rest before this section is essential. Her run times are faster than she had predicted however, she has decided to slow down her pace a bit and take longer rests at checkpoints. She is feeling like her dogs need longer rests than she had originally planned. She is determined to reach Nome with a good healthy, strong and motivated team. So, if you notice her times being longer this is why.

If you are watching the Iditarod website and have access to the "insider" portion there is a great video of her coming into Galena. She talks about the cold.

Tamara has some dogs which are a little gimpy but for the most part they seem injury free, just tired. She dropped Weaselly back in Ruby due to a sore leg. So, she is down to 11 dogs. Unfortunately, she has had to drop all of her good leaders. Now she is just trying to rotate dogs through lead position who are willing to take that role for bits of time. Some of the dogs will, but not for extended periods of time.

For those of you who aren't in the know about mushing, the lead dogs are critical to a dog team moving forward. Without a dog or two who is willing to lead, the team will not go far. Lead dogs are a special bunch, basic leaders are able to learn commands like Gee and Haw (left/right), they are able to take the stress of having 14 dogs behind them and most importantly they are the cheerleaders of the team. The team follows the leaders spirits and direction, good leaders can raise the attitude of an entire team and get them to get up and go in some of the worst conditions. Many dogs don't like the pressure of the lead position. Also, many sled dogs don't have the attention to be a lead dog. A lot of sled dogs will turn around and go back towards the musher pulling the entire team with them, or they may goof off with the dog next to them and get the team in a big tangle, or decide to go hunting for grouse and rabbits. Some sled dogs are to social and want say "hi" to their neighbor or passing teams. A good lead dog will line out the team, stay focused on moving forward and following the mushers commands no matter what. They will never look back or goof around, and be able to take subtle directional commands like "Gee over". The best lead dogs are the ones who really "dig" this role..and get into figuring out what the musher wants.

Now she is running on the Yukon which is notoriuos for being windy and cold. She did mention that she is switching out her parka now to an even bigger one that should keep her warm on this very cold section.

Being a foody I always ask about the food on the trail. We had heard that The Iditarod is known for having some really good food available for the mushers at the checkpoints. Meals which the locals get really into preparing. Pies in Tokatna, Steaks, etc. Apparently that means that if you get there with the leaders you're guaranteed a good meal. Poor Tamara is arriving at the checkpoints sometimes two days after the leaders, to find the same pot of stew which was fed to the top mushers as an accompaniment to a bigger meal two days ago. Doesn't sound like she has come across any fresh steaks or pies yet. Or maybe she just forgot to mention it :)

While she says the locals are all very sweet and thoughtful, she just can't bear the thought of getting sick, so, she is eating her own food which was prepared by a friend of ours. Calorie packed meals like extra cheesy steak and bacon burritos, pancakes and sausage, extra rich stroganaff. They are shrink wrapped in seal a meal packages which she can toss in the water she boils for the dogs. She's also drinking lots of bottled water and Gatorade which she shipped out to the check points for herself.

On a side note: I was at a potluck this weekend where I was offered seal oil and fish eggs.
Definitely an acquired taste. I wanted to like it but honestly, I have never smelled any food quite like it. It's supposed to be really good for , I just couldn't get past the smell..who knows she might be so hungry by the time she gets to the coast she'll even be willing to eat seal oil and eggs....:)

If you would like to receive my email updates or have any questions. I'd be happy to answer. Please email me at j_schwabbie@hotmail.com.

#26

2010-03-04T22:56:00.000-08:00

We just got out of the Iditarod start banquet. Phew, long day.

The morning began with the mushers meeting. This is a mandatory meeting for all mushers. Role is taken then various subjects are discussed like ceremonial start instructions, the restart on Sunday, drug testing dogs, drug testing mushers, rules overview, and the trail report. In summary: we careen around downtown Anchorage with our Iditarider clinging on to dear life in the sled during the ceremonial start; we start the real race on Sunday 1 1/2 hours north of Anchorage in Willow on a mushy lake (it's been warm); pee is collected from dogs at some point (I didn't pay attention to the part) to test for steroids, non-steroidal anti-inflammatories and other drug; pee is collected from mushers in some random fashion (didn't pay much attention to that part either) to test for drug type things..... whatever; and then....... the trail report.

The trail is pretty bad this year. There's very little snow plus the Iron Dog snow machine race has gone over the bad trail and has made it worse, if that's possible. The Happy Steps (misnomer) and the Gorge are bare; which means it's very hard to control the sled and dogs, thus very hard to slow down, much less stop. I am very worried about hurting dogs through this stretch. There is a stretch of at least 13 miles between Rohn and Nikoli that is bare ground. No snow. This is hard on the dogs and hard on the sled.

Hmm. I am pondering running 14 dogs instead of 16. 14 dogs are easier to control than 16, especially through such crappy trail. Will think hard on this tomorrow and Saturday.

We had a little break after the mushers meeting then went to the start banquet. The start banquet began with a wine tasting deal. A winery made a special red wine for the 2010 Iditarod and made labels with each musher's picture on it. We each received a complimentary bottle (mine went to my mom) and 3 additional bottles were signed (by said musher) then auctioned off. Proceeds will be divided evenly among the mushers - yay!

The banquet then began with a bunch of milling about, people getting autographs, friends catching up with each other, and a lot of people watching. We ate a nice dinner while there were various speakers, then the finale of the night: we each drew our start number. The current number on the Iditarod site is the order in which we signed up; we draw a number out of boot for our real start number. I drew #26, which is a really nice number. 2 and 6, and 2 and 6 make 8, and all are nice even round numbers. It all feels good and this is how my brain works. So I will be starting out, in both the ceremonial start and the restart in Willow, in the 26th position (out of 71).

Oh, one additional comment about the banquet. After we drew our number, we sat for our picture (not sure where that will go), I think I talked to a reporter, then we went down an amazingly long line of fans to sign posters, books, hats, bibs, etc etc. It was a little surreal, and fun to connect with folks who just dig the race and the mushers.

I'll try to write at least one more time before I'm off to Nome.

Iditarod Food Drops: it's own chapter.

2010-02-01T12:43:00.001-08:00

I'm going to do my best to update the blog in the next couple of days. I've completed two races and have gotten my drop bags done since my last post, which was so very long ago.

Iditarod Food Drops

Almost every mid to long distance dog race needs 'drop bags.' Drop bags cosist of large poly bags filled with food and supplies for the dogs, and a wee little bit for the musher. Drop bags go to each checkpoint, where the musher must register, as they either stop for a rest or pass through. So before a race, the musher thinks about a race plan and what they'll need and where (Clint Warnke, Judy Currier and Aliy Zirkle were instrumental in my planning for this crazy race). In the Iditarod, we are allowed 3 bags for each checkpoint. Most of the bags are filled with dog food; the rest of the supplies consists of dog booties, vet supplies, dog blankets, and a little people food. But there is so much preparation even before one starts packing the bags.

One of the many chores to do for Iditarod preparation is cutting meat. We feed all sort of meaty items to the dogs, both in their main meals and for snacks. The meat provides them with water and/or fat. Their main meals are fed as soon as possible when we come into a checkpoint (or camping spot; wherever we're going to take a several hour rest break). The meals consist of high fat/protein kibble, plus some meat, plus warm water to soak it all into a meaty stew. Dogs can get really finicky when racing, just like people on ultra-marathons; it's a combination of just being tired and getting an upset stomach from the work. So we offer them all sorts of things to maintain their interest in eating. The meat staple that I'm using ('Power') for their main meals will be one composed of beef, beef fat, tripe and some other goodies and vitamins. The meats come in frozen 50 lb. blocks. Here's a picture of chicken (light colored), beef (red), Power (pinkish), Hi-Pro (brown), and beef fat (bottom right corner, looks like dirty marshmellows).

In order to get the block into a usable form, it needs to be cut in small pieces:

This is Judy and Devan Currier's meat saw that I'm using. I'm not sure what I'd do without it! I cut the blocks into strips of meat that will thaw easily in hot water or eaten by the dogs easily as snacks. Snack time is a quick stop along the trail; they need to eat the snack quickly and easily so we can get going again. Remember that it can be really cold out, so the snack size has to be small. If the morsel is too big and hard (frozen) most dogs won't go to the trouble to eat it. I like to snack the dogs every couple of hours. This offers them a little mental break and a treat that provides water and fat to maintain hydration and calories.

Once the meat is cut into strips, it is put into snack and meal bags. Each snack bag will hold 16 strips of meat, each about 1/4 lb. The meal bags have 10 lb of Power and 2 lb of beef or pork fat. This is my friend Sarah who helped me, big time, packing snack bags:

Then once the snack bags, kibble bags, bootie bags, vet packs, socks, long underwear, people food etc etc etc are prepared, THEN one can pack the drop bags. Here is my supply of kibble for the Iditarod (each bag weighs 8 lbs):

This is a lot of kibble for sure, but I may use only half of it. I have one bag of their normal high calorie kibble for every meal. Then I also have a bag of an alternative high calorie kibble in case they decide they don't like their normal food. Then I also have a bag of high, but not as high calorie kibble as an additional 'just in case' bag. Just in case they don't like the rich kibble, or just in case a storm comes in and I get stuck at that checkpoint and need 3 meals instead of 1. I can basically get stuck, safely, at every checkpoint from Rainy Pass on.

Ok. Once you have all your bag ingredients ready, you can put out the bags for each checkpoint (Iditarod paints and labels the bags, we put our name on it though):

Once the kibble is in the bags, you get the shopping cart and grab the appropriate bags of frozen meat. Besides the boxes of meat that I ordered, I also have fish. Dogs LOVE fish. In Alaska, 'fish' = salmon. Last year I got a large amount of salmon from Nenana, a town just down the road. Native Alaskans use fish wheels to catch thousands of salmon as they make their way upstream. I think the native folks may eat these fish also but they are way too spent for white taste buds. The fish I get for the dogs have been laying on the bank for a little while and are a bit ripe. This is called 'sour fish.' I can't tell you how much the dog love sour fish. This year was a terrible fish year. Luckily, I still had fish from last year in the freezer!

By the next day, the drop bags are taking shape. After the kibble and the meat, come the supplies like booties, sled runner plastic, dog blankets, extra cloths for me, meals and snacks, vet supplies etc etc. I filled 3 bags at almost every check point.

Then my friends Liz and Marty helped with last minute packing and closing up the bags. I held my breath and just hoped I remembered everything.

Liz then put a little rope handle through the top of each drop bag. This will be a huge help at the checkpoints. The bags are not usually right by the parking spot so you have to carry/drag each bag to the sled/camping spot. The bags weigh between 20 and 55 pounds; I will love love love the rope handles!

The final step!!: Get the bags to the drop point in Fairbanks. My friends Pam and Kimberly were there to help. The bags didn't quite all fit in Pam's truck, so I put some in my little truck. So one trip into town did it.

Once at the shipping warehouse, we unload the bags onto two pallets.

They are then wrapped with plastic to keep it all together.

The pallets are then weighed and the musher gets their check book out. My drops were almost 1900 lbs. The bags are then shipped to Anchorage where they are sorted and flown out to each check point. I, and every other musher, worry about the frozen meat. It has been very warm for about a week now. I sure hope the bags are kept in refrigerated facilities.

Phew! That was a lot of work. I am so thankful to friends who helped me. Marie and Cord powdered, organized and packed my dog booties (36 bags, 16 sets in each bag, 4 booties per set....that's a lot of booties). Pam helped me cut the meat and transport the bags. Sarah got the ball rolling with the whole packing ordeal and just took charge of it. Aliy and Margie helped with packing and labeling the bags. Liz and Marty helped with the final packing and closing of the bags, and of course, with the all-important rope handles. Thank you friends!

A Trip to the White Mountains

2009-12-31T00:26:00.000-08:00

Last Tuesday and Wednesday, some friends of mine and I did a training trip to the White Mountains. The White Mountain Recreation Area is a little less than an hour from my house; not far at all. It is a popular spot for dog mushers, ski-jorers (skiing with the help of a dog), snow machiners, etc. This is where I usually go once I start trucking dogs on a regular basis, vs. going from my house, where I am confined by running small teams due to the trail and road crossings.

Trucking dogs has advantages and disadvantages. The dogs like a new spot, I can run larger teams, the dogs get used to traveling in the truck and they learn some patience. But it is very time consuming and a lot of work. All the equipment has to be organized and packed, the dogs have to be loaded, then there's the driving time, things have to be unloaded and assembled once at the destination, dogs unloaded etc etc etc, you get the picture.

Here, the dogs have been let out of the dog box and are put on the 'drop chains' which I set up along the sides of the truck. I've packed the sled and have started puting harnesses on the dogs.

These are my friends Sarah Love and Clint Warnke. Sarah is a veterinarian who has vetted many many races in the Lower 48 and Alaska (mainly the Iditarod). She failed to keep her witts about her and decided to get into the dog running bussiness. She and Clint have some really nice and talented dogs. Clint has a long background of running dogs and has trained dogs for Doug Swingley (Montana) and Sonny Linder (Alaska). Swingley and Linder are two of the best mushers in the history of the sport. Sarah and Clint recently bought a trailer for the dogs instead of using a truck. The dog boxes are on the inside (should have gotten a picture!).

We each ran 12-dog teams and planned to run 26 miles in, then turn around and come back to the parking lot (all the cabins were full, thus we had to return to base camp in the lot). We camped overnight, then did the same run the following day. I wanted to run as many dogs as possible, but also wanted to continue to try to get my previously injured dogs to catch up to everyone else. So I brought little Kiana along and bagged her for part of the run. She's not able to run 52 miles yet, but she could run two, 35 mile runs. So I bagged her for the first or last 10ish miles.

Here, you can see the drop bag that I use. It encloses the dog so that they can't jump out of the bag, thus they are kept safe and contained. The big metal hook is the snow hook. I carry two of these and use them to anchor the team when I stop (each hook is connected to a rope that runs to the base of the gangline from which the dogs are connected). The dogs are nut jobs, serious nut jobs. They don't like to stop. So I need good hooks to secure the team.

Kiana doesn't like being in the sled, hence the stink I that she gave me.

Here's the start of the run. It's about 1 pm and a beautiful day.

The White Mtn. National Recreation Area goes on as far as we can see. There's a 100 mile loop that goes through the Area, but I've never taken it due to low snow conditions. Some day.

Here's a great picture of the mountains in the distance and the full moon coming up, with the rose hue of the sunset behind me. No that's what I'm talkin' about!

(notice that Kiana is now in the team and has stopped giving me the stink eye).

After this picure, my lends froze open and that was that. So I put my camera back in my inside pocket. I thought I did, anyway. It turns out that I didn't get it into my pocket at all, it fell down my bibs and out my pant leg without me noticing. Now you have to understand something. It's a little cold out; about -20. Life is different at -20. You can't use your bare hands. You have many many layers on. You have a big hat, then your parka hood, plus a neck gater and a parka over all that. Then you have to unzip things and try to look down and find that little pocket on the inside of the bibs (I use that pocket because it's warmer for the camera). And you can't really feel anything because you have gloves on. Anyways, I lost the camera.

But! Sarah was quick on the draw and picked it up behind me. She then took advantage of the situation and took some pictures of her own. Notice the frosted lens.

A self portrait. Funny girl.

Another full moon through the trees shot (don't know why it's on it's side, I swear I rotated it).

Two beautiful shots of our view.

This is nearing the turn-around point. The run back to the truck was in the dark; hence the constant wearing of headlamps by mushers up here. We're constantly in the dark and refuse to let it slow us down. And the dogs love it!

The dogs did really well after both runs. Training with series of runs is really important, as distance races are just series of runs. Plus I needed to teach the 2-yr olds how to camp. They needed to learn that when I stop and set straw down, it is time to rest and quit being a wild maniac nut job. Stop and rest. Everyone did great both during the running phase and the camping phase.

Our first race is coming up very soon. The Copper Basin starts January 9th. This is a 300 mile, very challenging race, possibly harder than Iditarod. More on that later.

Happy Solstice 2009!

2009-12-23T23:30:00.000-08:00

It's taken me a while to get the videos off the camera, onto you-tube, then onto a post. yada yada yada. These are just more clips taken during recent training runs, but I thought I'd show you what mid-day looks like, then a late afternoon run. It's the shortest day of the year afterall, let's celebrate! Actually, I don't mind the short days here. Julie is always teasing me about the number of headlamps that I own - but hey, they keep me outside and happy. I figure it's like Eskimos and their many words for snow; a northern musher has many headlamps for all the different situations in their dark world.

I'll try to talk louder in the future. I'm still figuring it all out - how to hold the sled, hold the camera, push the correct button, hopefully don't freeze the camera (I've done that.... camera doesn't like that!) etc. Now I need to find the microphone or shut up.

The most interesting comment I had was that the dogs really like running in the dark. I don't know if it's the cooler temperatures or just the change of senses or what; but they like the dark. I've just started puting Sadie up front in lead. First of all, she's hillarious. She's like a little kid up there, laughing and having a good time. But she was also playing 'Kill the Musher' on this run; meaning that she wants to go fast, especially on turns, down hills, around trees..... anything that makes the musher work a little harder to control the sled and hang on. Little buggar, she is.

Ok, once again, happy belated Solstice!

2010 Iditarod Rookie Meeting

2009-12-16T22:40:00.000-08:00

The rookie meeting for this years race was held on the weekend of December 5th/6th in Achorage. There were 24 of us rookie types there, with a wide range of backgrounds. Some newbys with few years of racing experience (like me) all the way to my friend Dan Kaduce, who could write a book or two on the subject. Dave Decaro has been handling for Jeff King for a few years and also knows more than I'll ever know about training and racing dogs. I was really happy to see my friend Colleen Robertia there. She is a talented and driven gal with some great dogs; most, if not all, rescued or demoted from professional kennels. Michelle Phillips is another gal who is as tough and competitive as they get. I'm sure she'll be vying for the Rookie of the Year! There were two guys from Scottland, Newton from Jamaica, and guy from Ontario, and the rest of us yanks from all over the states (even Chicago). The scottsmen are leasing teams from Dean Osmar and Rick Swingley and Newton is training with Lance Mackey. These kennels are as good as they get; and yes, there is a slight twinge of envy and/or jealousy. But! I dig my mutts big time and we're going to have a great time.

The first day of the meeting was held at the Millenium Hotel, the headquarters of Iditarod in Anchorage. We heard from Mark Norman (the race marshal), Dr. Stu Nelson (head race veterinarian), Dee Dee Jonrowe, and Lance Mackey among others. They talked about dog care, race logistics, equipment, race strategy and more; more than we could mentally digest actually.

The second day was spent at Martin Buser's in Big Lake, about 1.5 hours north of Anchorage (if you don't know, Martin buser has raced in 25 Iditarods, has won 4 times, and still has the fastest recorded time). Martin shared really great information on equipment, feeding, dog care, training techniques, trail conditions, and the overwhelming topic of how to pack your drop bags. 'Drop bags' are large sacks of everything we need between the start and the finish of the race. We'll have 20 checkpoints before reaching Nome, with each checkpoint supplied with 3 drop bags, straw and fuel for our cookers (to heat water and make a soup for the dogs - their main meals..... more on feeding later). Our drop bags have to be packed and finished in Febuary, when they will be taken away and that's that. No changing. We better have enough food, dog snacks, dog booties, people food, hand warmers, batteries, veterinary supplies, underwear, socks, runner plastic etc etc etc etc etc.... you get the idea, in each of those bags for each of the checkpoints. So it's a bit stressful, especially for a rookie, to figure out exactly what and how much to put in. Oh, and you can't bring the food back; that stays in the villages. They do their best to get our gear and non-food items back to us. So premium kibble is running a little over $1/lb. Shipping is close to $1/lb. So this makes drop bag planning a sporting operation!

Dog talk between Emil and Martin. Notice the exercise wheel in the puppy pen.

In the afternoon, Pat, a search and rescue dude from Nome came in to talk about some tricky sections on the coastal portions of the route. Specifically, he talked about the section between White Moutain and Safety. Now, I've been watching the Iditarod for a few years, and I have some good friends who routinely run the Iditarod, but I really had no appreciation of this section of trail. The media is always camped out at the Happy River Steps, or the Dalzel Gorge, or the Burn; places where you see mushers crash and burn, I'm sure to the delight of some camera man who just flew in on a helicopter. Why don't they talk about the BLOW HOLE!? Probably because the media can't get there when it's bad. Scared the crap out of me. There's a little mountain range between White Moutain and Safety, with a nook between the hills. A high pressure can develope on the inland portion and a low pressure over the Norton Sound. Well, you know what happens with that; can just blow a gasket through that little nook, like over 100 mph winds. Pat had stories of people losing their snow machines to the wind. I mean, the machine was blown over and out to sea. My eyes opened a little wider at that story. So, I think they wanted to scare us a little so that we wouldn't 'go for it'. I'm not sure who they think is going to 'go for it,' but it certainly won't be me. My goal is not to be Rookie of the Year. My goal is to finish with happy musher and happy dogs (ok, and preferrably not in last place). To my mom and dad, if you read this, it will be ok. We will have weather reports in White Mountain. We will know when not to go. I will not be blown out to sea.

So in a nutshell, the rookie meeting made the race real for me. It gave me the steps I need to take to get organized. It also gave me both the fear of god and even more respect for the race than I already had.

Martin's new house. I wonder what his day job is? And, it's so far from the dogs...... retirement or just more dog handlers?

A Small Fish in a Small Pond

2009-12-08T21:46:00.000-08:00

I don't know how or why, but this little fish made it on 'mushing.tv'. Maybe it's just a small pond. Benedikt Beich, who handled for and ran Aaron Burmeisters (Iditarod musher) dogs in the Yukon Quest and the Iditarod, asked if he could interview me. 'Sure, what the heck.'

So check it out: www.mushing.tv

It's surreal to see yourself on the screen!

Speed Bumps

2009-12-08T21:17:00.000-08:00

Where the heck have I been? It's been a while since adding to the blog, so I'll try to be better about keeping up. Things get a little crazy though!

So we've had a couple of speed bumps during the last few weeks. Running dogs and racing have taught me two invaluable lessons though, 1: patience and 2: obstacles are to be figured out, not allowed to dominate the situation.

Speed bump number 1: tweeked my back, dang. This sport seems to be done in the prone position most of the time. You bend over the pet dogs, bend over to feed dogs, bend over to check on dogs, bend over to bootie dogs, bend over to scoop poop... you get the idea. So I had to rest a little, a bit of ice, and the following (especially drinking more water):

It seems that everyone in this sport has a bad back. I just need to work smarter, not harder. I'm one of those 'strong back, weak mind' sometimes. So I'm coming up with little tricks around the yard to make things easier and not dependent on me bending over.

I'm doing much better now, almost normal. Back to training dogs. Also back on the 4 wheel. We haven't received any new snow since that storm a month or so ago and the ground is starting to show.

Speed bump number 2: Mr. Snake, who was doing fantastic, had a seizure during a run. Seizures in dogs aren't an unusual thing at all, but one should not (and cannot) take a dog to Iditarod that may have a seizure. He's quite fine and just wants to get back to training; but he will have to go back to my friend Bob who runs recreationally. He'll probably never have another one again! So the biggest, strongest dog gets to go on semi-holiday, even though I'm sure he'd prefer to work for a living. Dang.

Speed bump number 3: The first race of the season, The Sheep Mountain 150, was cancelled due to lack of snow. I suppose the lack of snow is more disconcerting to me than the race being cancelled (it's Alaska in December, we're suppose to have snow); but the race cancellation is a bummer also. I was going to run the 2 year olds, just as a series of training runs. But we will just have to arrange some camping trips in the White Mtns to teach the punks how to rest and camp between runs.

None of the speed bumps are serious. My path is still in the same direction, and I'm sure I'll have many bumps along the way and will certainly have some big speed bumps in the race! Now I'm just back to training for the next race, which is the Copper Basin 300. This is a very, very tough race. I'm looking forward to the challenge.

Have Sled, Will Travel

2009-11-17T23:58:00.000-08:00

Fairbanks received a good size dump of snow almost a week ago, and my trails have just barely enough to switch to a sled. You need a good base of snow in order for the snow hook to take hold and the team can be stopped; especially when there are two road crossings like I have to deal with.

There are 2 great advantages to the sled over the 4-wheel. It's quiet, and the dogs have to work a bit more honestly. So instead of me just throttling along at 9 mph and the dogs either pulling, or coasting; they have to pull to get me up the hill. The dogs also love the sled (I guess that's a third advantage). I think they like the freedom of being able to find a groove a bit more than with the big, heavy 4-wheeler going exactly 9 mph all the time. They like to put on the power sometimes, then back off other times. One of the leaders will perk up her ears and everyone is right there with her; they have more fun with this sort of flexibility.

The disadvantage of the sled is that I can't take a 12 dog team out. I can control the team very easily with the 4 wheeler, thus at the road crossings I'm not worried. 12 dogs on a sled with low snow would be a disaster. So I've broken the 24 dogs into 3 teams of 8. Each team has at least one adult leader and at least one 2 yr-old leader. Then the rest of the dogs are evenly divied up based on age and size. An 8 dog team is still a bear to get out of the yard right now.... I work up a sweat, no matter how cold it is. The trail is very bumpy, narrow and windy and those little buggers are worked up into a frenzy when it's time to take off.

I've included a short video of the dogs running at the 25 mile turn around, just to show the sled and the scenery on a beautiful, crisp (around 20 below 0 deg F) day of training.

The Two Year Olds.... and Snake

2009-11-13T00:58:00.001-08:00

A little scheduling snaffoo allowed only one team to run today, so I thought I better run the 2 yr olds. They take more miles to get fit, compared to adults, so just need more miles on them before a race. This also means that my leaders were 2 year olds. I was hoping for minimal requirements for any decisions to be made up front, no loose dogs, and no other dog teams. Well, we had one loose dog, 2 dogs on leash that we had to pass, and a couple of gee/haw options. Venus and Grumpy did great.

It also snowed like craze today! Inches and inches. Most of the run was unbroken trail, much deeper snow than in the pictures. It was also going up hill. This was hard work for the dogs so I just took it slow.

Grumpy and Venus at a rest stop, half way through a long run (32 miles). The dogs popped the brake on the 4-wheel right after I took this and just about ran me over.

My swing dogs, Kaligan and Kora (both part of the K litter). Kaligan's hogging her side to get at some snow cones.

This is Snake and Kaltag. Snake is a brother of Beaver, Sadie and Pepsi (he's an adult, either 4 or 5 years old). I'm trying him out. He's a big strong dog and has a lot to say during stops.

Kaltag is ready to go!

Weasley and Kobuk.

Wizard (brother of Weasely) and Kiana (more K dogs).

Muggles (brother of Wizard and Weasley) and Diamond in wheel.

And we're off...

Training on the Pipeline

2009-11-06T23:34:00.000-08:00

Thought I'd share a little Alaskan trivia by showing you what the pipeline looks like:

We're on the pipeline service road, and the pipeline must be buried over on the right. This runs along a ridge, about 1500' feet above the valley where we start. It's snowing just lightly and about 18 degrees - warm for Alaska and the dogs, perfect for the human.

Nikki feels good and is rolling around in the snow. That's a happy dog.

A short break for the dogs at the half-way point in the run. They're looking great and Venus is wondering why I'm stalling.

Judy Currier's dog Weasley. Now that's a good looking dog!

Here's a short video of us going back down to the valley on an old mining road. I'm trying to keep the 4-whell from going into a washed out gully while holding the camera. The dogs always know when the musher isn't paying attention; they keep looking back, wondering when I'm going to get back to work. This team has most of the 2 year olds, 8 of them. They look great and ran strong the entire run.

Dog of the Day - Kora

2009-11-03T23:06:00.000-08:00

Kora may be the smallest dog on the team; it's a close race for smallest shrimp with Venus. She may weigh 35 pounds..... after a big meal, a really big meal.

Kora is one of the 'K' litter that I bought from Dean Osmar; she is two years old. She has also turned out to be a fine leader. I put her up front with Reeses (also in the picture) and it is pure finesse. They are both light, athletic little dogs. A very nimble front end.

I was a little surprised to see Kora take to lead so easily. Her personality isn't a 'take charge' one. She's a bit submissive; a very gentle little dog. But when she's in lead, she never looks back, never questions anything, and never seems to get tired. Just goes forward constantly, with gusto.

She's made the A team so far due to her enthusiasm and her abilities as a leader and cheer leader. She may not be a powerful dog physically, but she will always help the team get up and go forward! She's also a fun dog to have on the team. Always smiling, always happy to be there, and very affectionate.

I Think It's Winter

2009-10-29T22:28:00.000-07:00

Well the snow has finally come. There's not enough for a sled; you generally need a good half a foot to make some sort of a base to set the snow hook (the brake). No brake, no stopping, no control, scary/dangerous ride.

I'm finally able to get on some of the trails. It's still pretty bumpy, but doable. This is a beautiful, clear rosy morning in Fairbanks.

I have a 10 mile loop through the valley, then come back to the hood for the rest of the run. I have a 25 and a 44 mile loop also, which go to the top of one of the ridges in the background of this picture.

The view behind me. People often think that interior Alaska is dark and overcast. It's actually quite clear. And the clearer it is, the colder it is. After a couple of days of overcast and snowy days, we are now back to cool and crisp and great sunrises and sunsets.

Sunrise light and the snow highlighting the Equinox Trail up Ester Dome.

Tomorrow we'll do some 'hill' work in the hood. I'll get a little video on non-bumpy surface. I'll also go over some of the hardware while we're taking pictures.

Dog of the Day - Hailey the Shredder

2009-10-27T22:33:00.000-07:00

Hailey is a pretty little girl that I bought from Bill Cotter when she was just turning 2 (she's now 4 years old, just starting her peak athletic years). She's small, between 40 and 45 pounds and can lead or be in the main team. She's one of those dogs who you 'never see.' In other words, she never has any issues, injuries, fights, bad days etc. She just goes and goes.

Oh wait, I DO notice her when...... she shreds something! She has gone through many o' harnesses. And just TRY and put a coat on her when camping. Shredded. During the GinGin 200 (2008 race, a particularly bad weather race), I was giving them extra rest after running 100 miles in -55 degree conditions (yes, that is 55 degrees below 0 - cold cold). We had about 40 miles to go to the finish. I came out from the checkpoint cabin to pack up and leave, to find my two leaders laying down quietly, but not connected to the rest of the team. Someone had found them wandering around tied them to a wooden stick near the front of the team. Hailey had shredded the line between the main gang line and the 2 leaders. And what's funny, I don't think I've every, even once, actually seen her in action. She is a very secretive, stealth shredder.

In spite of her little destructive pattern though, she is a very solid dog and has a secure position on the A team. She always pulls and has finished every one of the 8 races that I've been in (totalling over 1800 miles), with a substantial contribution in lead position. She's never been injured and has always had a great attitude. She has also led the team through some tough conditions. Finally, she is really cute and all the dogs think so too.

Fall Training in the Alaskan Burbs

2009-10-26T23:55:00.000-07:00

Last year at this time, I was traning on trails that climb 1200 feet to the top of the ridge just north of the house. But we had snow then. Now we don't. The trails are EXTREMELY bumpy. I tried to go up them last week, and decided that the 4 wheeler may fall apart if I did that again. So I am continuing to build miles by running through the neighborhoods around the house. It's not a bad thing; and thank god I don't have just one 'out and back' to repeat 10 times a day.

I've taken some video clips of the runs and rest, trying to introduce the dogs and give you a glimps of 'the day in the life of a distance musher' and the dogs she owns. A couple of the files are large so I had to load them on YouTube and provide the link for you to watch them.

The first video is just showing the dogs running and taking some turns. This is what I watch for hours while training...... and I never, ever tire of watching the dogs.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=KYahYdGGxFQ

The next video is the team during a little rest stop.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NtHlfNGnMDU

The third video is a short clip of what it looks like right after the dogs have been hooked up - crazy. Everyone is amped.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ihpoAeiqjVc

The next video is the beginning of the run with the second team.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aHIZkE1SJ5o

The final video is the second team during a rest, and highlighting some of the more outspoken dogs:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SJiCORKsFRg

I'm learning all this high-tech stuff as required, so there may be an easier way of showing videos. You will notice if I figure this out.

Dog of the Day - Nikki

2009-10-23T23:10:00.000-07:00

I've had a busy week. A very busy week. I'm training two dog teams and still working as much as possible. So life is a little hectic. I guess I'm making excuses as to my lack of blog updates. I'll just put a lid on it and get on with the blog.

Today we're going to celebrate Nikki!

Nikki is a 3 year old female out of Dean Osmar's kennel (Nikoli - Lazor offspring, ie, very good breeding). I know I say this about everyone, but she really is a wonderful dog. I believe she could hang in some of the best of teams out there. What I love the best about her though is her attitude. The girl is always happy and ALWAYS excited to go. She is very driven.

I got her from a man named Don who invested a great deal of time and money to form an Iditarod team; he bought dogs from to the top mushers (Osmar, King, Gephart, Mackey). For reasons out of his control, he had to dissolve his kennel. I've picked up a few dogs from him and have been happy with all of them. He is also a kind guy and has kids, thus the three dogs that I got from him were already very social, happy dogs (the others are Bullit and Pilot.... and I should have gotten more!). Nikki is one of my friendliest and outgoing dogs. Loves people and loves to be loved.

I bought her 2 years ago this November. She was a yearling (about 1 1/2 years old). November is well into the training season and I was running 25 miles at the time; too long to just throw in a yearling who hasn't been running. So on my first run, I brought a drop bag along (a bag that you put the dog in and carry her along on the sled/4-wheeler...I'll show you one later) so that she wouldn't have to run the whole 25 miles. Well she never did show any fatigue, but at 12 miles I thought I better bag her; didn't want to hurt her. Well she would have none of it! She was impossible. Pretty much went ape s*&^t. So, fine, back in the team you go. She finished just fine and has never shown me much fatigue since. She has been in every race I've been in and has been stellar. The only one she didn't finish was the Taiga 300 (2008) due to an injury. It was terribly warm and she pulled a muscle in her shoulder when she fell off the trail trying to scoop a snow snack (they scoop all the time, this was just a bad spot in the trail - bad luck). By the way, 'scooping' is when a dog dips down or to the side and scoops a little snowcone into their mouth. They do this contantly and can hydrate themselves amazingly well this way.

Nikki is a team dog, meaning that she's in the main team, not a leader. She can lead, in fact she lead in my first race when I was a really dumb rookie and made many mistakes and needed a leader. I put her up there and she helped get me home. But I don't put her up there routinely because of her only flaw: she can't poop and run at the same time! I mean she REALLY can't poop and run. Brings the whole team to a stop, abrubptly. And if I'm off in la la land (like at 3 am during the second day of a race) and can't get on the brake quite in time, I end up with a bit of a tangled mess. To top it off, she's a frequent pee-er and pooper. I don't hold it against her, just can't have her in lead.

Almost all of my dogs are spayed and neutered. I've never bred dogs, as there are lots of good dogs out there. I also just don't know if I want more dogs! I've got a young team and can race and play around with them for a long time. Thus, here is Nikki, getting spayed, by me, yesterday. And to my vet friends: she's my dog so I can wear or not wear whatever I please (thought I heard a mild gasp at my not wearing a surgical gown). I'm pretty fancy with my dogs in that I do them in a clinic. I've spayed/neutered a LOT of huskies on clients' kitchen tables (they wouldn't otherwise be spayed/neutered) and have had no problems. My experiences as a mobile vet in Alaska could be the topic of an entirely new blog. Now there's an idea!

Dog of the Day - Dill

2009-10-14T23:23:00.001-07:00

Dill did such a great job today, that I thought I should start a 'Dog of the Day' category. He was surrounded by two-year olds.... punks that don't really know anything and just get excited to go... and go anywhere and everywhere. Today we did a little 'gee-haw' training. Part of the run is going through a neighborhood with a grid of roads. Dogs can easily fall into a routine, just like me. But we've started incorporating figure eights and all sorts of unpredicatble turns in order to teach the dogs 'gee' (right), 'haw' (left) and 'straight on' or 'on by'. Dill was THE MAN today. He was flawless. He got almost every turn or straight away with a single command. He was confident, loping and and just digging the days drill. This is really important practice to both instill 'gee' and 'haw' in a leader, and to also teach the younger dogs directions so that I can rely on them when choices have to be made.

I bought Dill in the spring of 2008 from Aliy Zirkle and Allen Moore. Allen ran him in Iditarod 2008 and had to drop him about half to two thirds the way through because he just wouldn't eat well. I tried him out in my first 300 mile race, the Taiga 300 (2008). He did just great for me and I've relied heavily on him ever since. To put his name in context, he is one of the spice litter. His sibblings are Rose(mary), Spicy, Chilli, Garlic and Nutmeg. I generaly call him 'Dill Weed', unless he's being a hard-headed butt, in which case his name can be contorted into all sorts of things that probably shouldn't be printed in a blog.

Dill has led for me in the majority of over 1200 miles of racing last year. He IS the MAN! He's also a really nice guy. A bit stuborn, but I'm not one to fault him for that.

Dill in lead, looking at me for the 'hike!' command to get going again after a rest stop. He and Venus are wearing blinkers on their collars because it's dark when I start the run in the morning, and I make sure they are very noticable (we run quite a bit on the neighborhood roads).

The Dogs, Part 1

2009-10-09T20:27:00.000-07:00

This is the start of the dog introductions. I'll keep adding better pictures while training. We're also practicing with the new digital camera that Julie got for her birthday (thanks Mamma Nancy!).

Beaver: 4 year old male. Swingley lines. One of my main leaders. He's got an amazing work ethic, will go wherever I ask him, gets along with everyone, and is a joy to hang out with. He's a muscular box; all heart and lungs, not leggy but strong strong strong.

This is Dill, scratching his back on his house. He's my other main leader. He is very focused on his job, but is also full of funny antics. He's 5 years old and from Aliy Zirkle's kennel.

This is Nikki, a 3 year old female (Dean Osmar, Nikoli/Lazor breeding). She is a great dog. She's leggy, has great endurance, and is always happy to go. Overly affectionate.

Sadie is a 4 year old female, sister of Beaver (Swingley lines). She is solid, muscular, hard working and serious about going forward! Same work ethic as Beaver. She's always the first to tell everyone that it's time to get going during a training run rest stop. Also, a very dear dog.

Pilot is a 3 year old female. A squirt of a dog with a huge heart. She is the hardest worker pound for pound. She's a Jeff King dog out of Uksi and Demi (her original name was Pirate, I didn't like it and changed it to Pilot, for pilot light, the energizer, cheerleader and spark for the rest of the team). She is always always banging on her harness to go. She is also always happy and always wagging her tail.

Grumpy is a 2 year old male of Buser lines. I'm training him for Russ Bybee, and Grumpy is helping me finish Iditarod in good fashion. He is a wonderful dog. Contrary to his name, he's a very pleasant dog to work with. He's also a great dog. Beautifully built, a hard worker, and is a solid leader (he's also quite a looker!).

Venus is a two year old female (Osmar: Scout/Fancy). Simply a beautiful dog. She's another squirt (I seem to collect little females), but she is a born leader; strong-headed (yet quite the drama queen), assertive, very motivated and just a great little dog. Her coat is a nice as is gets (once she sheds out) and her appetite is non-stop. I'm looking forward to challenges just to see how she does out in front.

Kaligan is a two year old male (Dean Osmar, Kusko/Frosty breeding). I have the whole litter, and he's both the jester and the best working dog of the five. I wasn't sure he would make it to adulthood he was so accident prone as a pup. But here he is and he's a great dog.

Kobuk (Osmar, Kusko/Frosty litter) is a 2 year old male who is the sweetest dog I've every met. He is a love, who is also a solid working dog. He has a great coat and prefers to sleep outside of his house, even when it's 40 below; go figure.

Diamond is a two year old female of Gebhardt lines (Red/Seal). She is a bit crazy but is starting to grow up and settle down a little. She's got a beautiful coat, great appetite, and loves to run. She should be a solid dog on the team..... and she lets everyone know when it's feeding time.

Wizard is a 2 year old male (Zorro pup) owned by Judy Currier. He looks like a bad ass but he's quite sensitive and happy. He's all business on the line though and I can't wait to train him this year. He's a beautiful, athletic dog and will be a big help for the trip to Nome.

Weasley is a 2 year old male, brother of Wizard (Zorro pups). Weasley is a beautiful, strong dog. He IS a bad ass (with a sensitive heart). Judy is very generous is letting me train these 2 year olds, and I'm sure they will be major part of the team.

Well that's it for now. I have several dogs to add (the rest of the K litter; more adults, Bullet, Hailey, Reeses, Pepsi; and Muggles (another Judy Currier dog). I'll get some action shots and try to record some videos. It's hard to film and handle dogs at the same time though!

Thanks for following!

Fall Training 10/4/09

2009-10-04T23:17:00.000-07:00

We're starting to get into our routine of fall training. The weather has been so variable lately it's been hard to train much. My temperature cutoff is about 35 deg. F. The dogs, or at least MY dogs, get too hot when it's much over that. I also don't have any water the go through, so I just have to stop often when they are warm.

This is one of the teams, stopped at the only remaining bit of snow to cool off in

In lead: Hailey and Venus (2-year old)
Swing: Sadie and Simon
Next: Beaver and Pilot
Next: Joe and Hazel
Next: Kaltag and Diamond

Miss Venus is ready to go!

Summer Vacation

2009-10-02T23:43:00.001-07:00

During the summers, I send some dogs to tour operations. The dogs get to run around rather than being bored and hot in the Fairbanks sun, and, they are fed by someone else. Here are a few pictures of the operation above Girdwood, Alaska.

This is Bullet. She is an attention hog. I've learned to not take it personally; she loves everyone.

This is Nikki. She's also very friendly. Actually, they're all very friendly. Nikki's one of my better dogs; leggy, has a lot of endurance, and is always enthusiastic.

This is Dill (black dog) and Beaver. These were my two main men last year. They led during the majority of all my races. Dill is out of Aliy Zirkle's kennel and Beaver is a Swingley dog. I love them both!

I'll put more pictures up when I figure out how to make them larger!

Setting Sail

2009-09-30T00:15:00.000-07:00

My maiden voyage. The purpose of this blog to is to share my Iditarod adventure(s) with my friends and family. I tend to keep to myself a bit, but I have found that most people absolutely dig the dogs and the sport; as they should, because these dogs are amazing! And since I think I have the greatest dogs around, I'm happy to share our story. So stay tuned for pictures and stories; and thanks for following...