Race Prelude
We had begun the training season with the idea of heading into a preparation format for long distance racing. Preparing for a long distance venue, to a certain extent, generally results in a schedule where mileage increments in relation to time on the trail are noted. By mid-December there seemed to not be enough hours in the day as time spent on the trail began to increase. In essence, training a couple groups of dogs for long distance and still giving a puppy team adequate attention was very time consumptive. Suddenly there was not enough time for general kennel maintenance, maintenance of sleds, and gear preparation for races. So, knowing the Canadian Championship, a race we’ve never entered before was the last two days of the month, I back calculated in time what could be done to prepare for this race. Figured 3 days traveling, it is 1265 miles to Nelson from the door, getting to Nelson 3 days before the race so the dogs could be run over the course and still have 2 days off prior to race day. This all meant I had roughly 10 to 13 days of a speed race training format to try and get the dogs ready. Some would say no way, what a stupid move, but I felt it very possible, given the way the dogs had been moving out. In any event, the training mileage was backed up and somewhere between the 10th and the 13th we began embarking on some shorter mileage runs. It seemed to not take long for the dogs to steady into a really nice speed pace, and as a result a couple miles was tacked on to the runs. Trail conditions at the time were very conducive to speed running. Then, two training runs prior to leaving, two separate dumps of snow fell. With all my long distance neighbors I figured not a problem as they surely would take advantage of this and use the conditions to toughen the dogs by breaking trail. Nope, nada, no-one ventured out. So, out we went. I reasoned the conditions and structured the next two runs to be a high amount of work in a short period of time. Where this failed, was the prior long distance training coming into play. I half-way expected it but hoped we could shoot through it. Running a large string of dogs, the group powered through the conditions at a respectable pace and lope. It was during the later stages of the second run after the second falling of snow in two days that the group began to tail off and adapt to a pace better suited for longer distances. I rationalized that with travel time to Nelson the dogs would reignite once we got there.

The Trip
We were really well organized for the trip and left Willow mid-day Sunday. I didn’t count on the Wasilla/Palmer areas being so time consumptive to get through, but with stops at the grocery store, post office, etc, it was mid-afternoon before we “escaped” the Matsu urban area.. Reservations were previously made to overnight at Tok, about 200 miles from the border.

The experienced older dogs, wise to the antics of seeing a truck loaded up, were keenly attentive. One of the reasons for leaving in early afternoon was to ease the less experienced or green travelers into riding in a confined environment. Figured with all the activity the excitement surrounding the kennel would have everyone pretty well cleaned out and the likelihood of messing in fresh straw remote. As noted, the trip through Wasilla/Palmer ate up a bunch of time, so my planned area for a feed-drop ended up being relatively close to Palmer as we headed for Glennallen. Ask any Alaskan, this is one of the most beautiful drives in the State but also is typified by long slow twisty-turney uphill and downhill grades, often 8 to 9 percent. Once one breaks over the pass near Eureka the road does not have quite the previous acute nature and a steady traveling speed can generally be maintained. Not taking any chances, we dropped the dogs well before my standard 2 hours of traveling to allow any travel affected youngsters a chance to relieve themselves. Passing through Glennallen, we took note of the time and called ahead where we had made reservations indicating we would arrive later than anticipated. Could have been a problem so close to Christmas but communities of the North are real accommodating and not so uptight. With that, we spent the first night in Tok. Some of the youngsters were going through a bit of travel shock and did not eat well, but the rest of the group was upbeat and everyone loves the extra attention they get while traveling.

Credit cards
The next morning saw us an hour later off schedule due to the long previous day. Dropped the dogs and with box inspection, the housekeeper (me) was very happy. Watering ensued, a reload, and then off to the card-gas for a diesel top-off prior to getting into the expensive diesel fuel costs of Canada. Sure like the card stops for fuel, plug the card in, wait for approval, and dump the fuel in; gurgle, gurgle, chink$$, chink$$, chink$$. I had purchased a fuel additive since we were now in tune with the times of low sulfur diesel with many fuel lubricants also removed. Claim was the additive would offer the great lubrication and as well boost mileage. Was I a doubting Thomas? You bet! Anyway, had the additive on top of the pump along with my credit card and once the tank was filled, stashed the additive back in the warmth of the truck cab.

Like to say, off we went but we were out of synch in physical trail progress and had to drop the dogs right out of Tok at the Tok dog mushers race track and clubhouse site. Doing that, off we went, with the border a couple hours away and our next overnight prematurely at Whitehorse.

I’ll not belabor all the intricacies with the dogs, suffice to say, the younger ones were still in a bit of wondering what the hey was going on, but were getting better.

It was at Haines Junction, about a 100 miles from Whitehorse, on a drop and a telephone call to Rick, our kennel partner that I discovered I had no airlines credit card. Do I say tirade here? Shae, having experience in this, was a great help and took charge. Got a telephone number from Rick and cancelled my card, on Christmas Day no less, but fortunately had a minor card used only for emergency back-up and boy did we need it now. The rest of the trip I had Shae constantly checking my wallet to make sure all was present and accounted for.

We pushed to Liard Hot springs, having reservations at the lodge there. Because of the out of synch start earlier the previous day I had pushed metal on exceptionally good road to make up time. Going through all our dog chores, we dug for our swimsuits and towels and hiked in over the board-walk, about a quarter mile to the semi-developed Hot springs.

What can I say, sittin’ in a hot springs, steam vapor ever present, couple feet of snow on the banks, snow clinging to the branches of trees, having my honey with me made the soak and the trip all worth while and BTW, this all under a waxing moon:) The next day we were on schedule and arrived at Fort Nelson mid-day Wednesday, enough time for a casual run with the dogs around the race trail.

Race Trail Training Run
After unloading our gear, we drove out to the race stage site at Parker Lake. The Terry Streeper family and whole entourage is pretty much the impetus behind putting the race on. Several drivers were at the holding area including Terry. Terry described the trail to us; around and around the lake with a little over 2 miles of running, some moguls on the next section followed by a 5 mile straightaway with a 2-mile teardrop where teams looped back to common trail. The teardrop loop having sections of moguls before blending back into the common trail. Shae and I considered breaking the team in half though I was fearful broken down into 2 smaller teams the dogs would end up preferring a long distance pace “but” was also aware they might be pretty charged up from not having run for a few days. Too, we also knew that up to this time we had only a couple runs where a larger string was hooked up and dog placement adjusted during the exercise. We felt we were honing in on a good rhythm alignment but it hadn’t really been fine tuned. What tipped the scales in our decision was knowing that Terry and Buddy regularly run very long strings and they wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the physical well being of their dogs. By the time the dogs were all in the tow I felt we had made the correct decision. An eagerness to go, yes, but not exactly pulling the bumper off the truck. Terry preceded us on a sno-go for the first 3 plus miles. Two miles and change on the lake for spectators to see and the rest pretty straight forward, 5 mile straightaway to a “T”, left at the “T”, left at the next corner and in a mile or so, back out on the common trail. Terry slid off to the side of the 8' wide trail allowing us to book down the straightaway. On the lake, with my GPS on, I monitored our progress and fears of having no speed were squelched. While vigorously standing on the mat to regulate their speed down, it was apparent they were having none of it. Going through my mind was them going out too hard and having nothing to come in with, yet to be determined. Off the lake; through the trees and onto the straightaway we were still moving pretty darn good with the initial burn having worn off, but not by much. A little over 4 miles into the run I could see a snow mobiler approaching at a fast rate followed by a second. The first one easily pulled off onto the side of the trail and thinking surely with the other one so far behind that he too saw us. Barreling down on each other, the snow mobiler coming within 5' of the front end, finally veered off the trail. Close call. After a sigh of relief, I continued to monitor the GPS, making sure we wouldn’t miss the “haw” into the teardrop. Down the trail, a shadow appeared, a ways away and as we approached we saw it was two snow mobilers parked diagonally in the trail. As we approached it was apparent they weren’t moving and by the time I realized what was happening the dogs funneled onto a marked trail on the left. Mentally caught in a micro-second conundrum of what to do, I opted for not breaking the rhythm and flow of the team as I felt this was the returning section of the race trail to the common trail and knew we would have to make a “gee” to complete the loop going backwards. The mistake I made was missing the narrow sled wide trail off the current 8' wide trail - our “gee” we needed to take. We continued to barrel down another straight away never seeing the single sled width trail to the right. What followed next could have been a horror story I hope is NEVER repeated and one we’ll be on the lookout for from now on where ever we go.
In Iditarod you expect the unknown and the extremely difficult at a much slower pace, the brain with plenty of time to think about dilemmas and mistakes, however, this was accentuated by a full string of dogs feeling their oats. Somewhere, booking down a straight away, the tree canopy began to change from smaller poplar and spruce to a mature forest. This was my first inkling of something having gone array. All based on what had previously been traveled through was second growth and didn’t feature it would change since the trail was an out and back loop. Anyway, now just entering a stand of mature spruces, the shadows didn’t allow us to adequately see what was ahead. What happened next took us both by surprise. Picture the letter “S”backwards. Now make it 3 to 400 feet long, run the “S” backwards, put large mature spruces on the inside corners, make each end of the “S” on rising ground with the center a sharp, quick, deep dip. Oh s–t, blistered across my mind, the leaders disappeared around a blind downward corner to the right and we doing everything to avoid hitting the spruces. The trail cantilevered to the left around the spruces threw Shae off her sled, snowhook popped out of the holder, I let up on the brake so as not scrape Shae when I ran over her with my sled and in that split second like the end of a “crack-the-whip” I flipped over and was dragging through a small gorge and up the other side of the “S”. A couple emphatic WHOAS and the team stopped, though I knew it wouldn’t last long. Shae probably in near “shock” quickly gathered herself up and made it up to me where I was trying to find my hooks. She got to her sled, the lead sled, righted it, and the dogs just starting to charge up when the hooks popped out and we now were quickly going through the remaining blind portion of the “S”.

Asked Shae if she was all right, knowing everything considered, just being able to stand on a sled at this point was a feat and the reply was, “ I’m okay”. Ironically the GPS was still strapped to my arm and like a true racer, what do I do? Yep, looked at it and we were again moving pretty good. Now, how insane is that? Lost out in tim-buc-two, going hell-bent for election, not a trail sign around and looking at a lousy GPS. Go figure.

After that experience, if we didn’t know already, it was plainly evident we were lost as were now on the likeness of a “goat trail”.

In a while, don’t remember how long, just enough time to take stock in realizing one of our snow hooks looked to be in a very relaxed state which turned out to later match the lengthy deep bruise on Shae’s inner thigh. I do remember easing off of the recent mental and physical rush, and starting to again go with the flow. Felt there had to be a trail to the right which would return us to more familiar terrain and somewhere in that mix, 16 dogs of the 20 disappeared and the whole enchilada was going down an incredibly steep, steep, steep long descent at Mach I, totally out of control. With slip sliding to the left and right, Shae’s downhill ski experience payed off as she remained upright. Me, pure luck I guess. To the bottom of the ravine we went. Got to the bottom and the ravine was so narrow there was no room to turn a whole team around in, so up the other side we went.

Hey, knowing we weren’t out of the woods-------with in trepidation we were on edge waiting and hoping for “any” positive sign. Instead, up ahead, another chasm appeared. Hooked the dogs down and 10 feet away from the front end was another ravine, at least equal to the “fear factor” of the most recent prior one. With that, I had Shae stand mightily on her sled brake, all four hooks set, while I unsnapped all the tugs and commenced turning the team around. As the trail was narrow enough, when we got to the sleds, we had to be extra fast and extra careful so as to not hook the runners on any adjacent trees, particularly if the dogs started feeling frisky, otherwise the runners would surely snap if they lounged at the wrong time. Successfully getting the team turned around, just in the nick of time, the dogs fired up and pulled all four hooks, well, 3 ½ hooks. Off we went retracing our steps on the goat trail, only to find that our first pass over exposed more stubs and the dogs were more easily pulling us into the inside of the corners causing us to do knee bends and avoid poking our eyes out on any sweepers.

And then a GIFT appeared. Four young fellows on snow mobiles from Nelson were headed back home and had stopped in the trail at the top of “ravine #2". It was hard to convey the gravity of the situation to them but after a while with the dogs now screaming to go they understood. Two items surfaced which were life savers, rope and a cell phone. We tied one the snow mobiles to the carabineers of the second sled while talking with Connor’s Dad, turns out to be a nephew of Terry, on the cell. Connor’s Dad knew where we were and had the boys guide us the safest way back to Nelson while he retrieved our truck from Parker Lake and drove it back to the arranged rendevous site just a mile from town.

It had long since been dark.

I instructed Connor’s friend to adamantly clutch the snow mobile brake while going into the ravine. The ride down was severely anticlimactic compared to our previous plunge. The whole setup worked so well we continued on for the next several miles until we got to the location of our truck just outside of Nelson.

With darkness, we were unable to check for damage. Next day, no dogs appeared to be injured, the towline greatly frayed in some sections, and the sleds very much looking like they were no worse for wear. Outside of the obvious emotional and psychological impact the only physical thing seemingly affected was a bent up snow hook.

 

The Race
The big day was upon us but realistically we didn’t know what to expect, we were still sort of mentally shot. It was great watching the mass starts for the limited class teams, open class was having dual starts. The whole thing very spectator oriented and how could it not be with all the action of a mass start and then watch everyone vying for position on Parker Lake for the next 2 plus miles. With all that, no apparent meetings and all came off without a glitch.

The open class dual starts was equally a success and I wholly recommend it for the audience appeal and yet not the venue for a potential cluster of a mass start of open class teams. A win-win situation.

My starting partner was faster than us but once we funneled down into the main trail about a half mile away we were right on their tail. I knew there could be an after-shock from our ill fated training run on Wednesday and so it was, roughly 3 miles into the race the group literally said, “okay boss, we’ve been here before” and from that moment we continued on the course with a very lack luster performance. When we neared the “haw turn of destruction” I could tell the front end was looking for it and sure enough, they bolted into it. With teams coming at us that had completed the tear drop turnaround, our dogs knew this must be right. How could it not be, everyone else is coming from there and besides we “know” this trail. I spent several whatevers, in length of time, getting them past this spot. Once past, it took a long time to establish a flowing rhythm and by then, several teams had left us in the dust. One such team passed us and once by proceeded to hook down and load dogs, yes plural. After everything that happened I just couldn’t see the value in a repass even when I had every right to under the circumstance. We continued on course and finally was back to winding back and forth on the lake heading towards the start/stop line.

Quite dejected but knowingly and understanding what happened I was more dejected from ego than anything else. We set out to restructure Sunday’s lineup thinking the priority was to have as clean and event free run as possible, forget about the race, lick our wounds and come back another day.

Only one minor glitch in the second heat and a near catastrophe at the start. My starting partners team not comfortable with the open spaces of a large funnel shaped chute drove hard towards our group, nearly spearing it between our wheel dogs and sled. Don’t know what happened next doc, all I remember was going up on the outside runner and passing over the other team’s front-end. Surely wasn’t conscious or calculated, purely reactionary, and purely blind dumb luck that it worked. A bit later on the lake, when it was evident, I allowed the slightly faster team to pass. Following it was quite interesting, as the middle and rear section of that team seeing home, as in dog truck across the lake, did its best to get over there. That team had a wonderful front end to get them off the lake. The rest of our run was smooth, steady pace, no blistering moments and was a bit remiss at not having more punch but with the weeks temps hovering in and above freezing and previous events I was very happy with the steadiness of their performance. They did try a sashay into the “trail of destruction” but something happened which I’ve never seen before. The haw side leader pushed the gee side leader who was trying its darndest to go haw. The effort was so great the haw side leader knocked the gee side leader off its feet onto its own back, a bad rendition of a piggy-back ride. When the gee side leader’s feet hit the ground, we were back on the main trail off and running, ;)))) completing the course event free.

 

Return Trip
The scenery, despite all the side-show events that happened, was equally as captivating as the journey down. The trip was almost to the mile 2,500 miles and worth every corner. We again soaked in the hot springs at Liard. The roads were near perfect for travel the whole way and only when we were near Palmer did we encounter significant snow coming down. As usual, some driver’s never seem to have a clue, three cars in the ditch, two of which were on their hoods.

Credit Cards
And, oh yea, just on a whim, thought I would check the top of the gas pump in Tok for my credit card annnnnnd guess what, there it was, slumbering away, waiting for me to retrieve some 10 days later. Interesting??

 

Analysis
Of course I was concerned as to how the dogs would act in the next training run. They just “sat” there, and when I realized I needed my mittens, I ran back to the house to get them. Upon returning, a chorus of individual vocalists were ripping the cold air all the while trying to break off the hook-up post. The next two training runs were smooth as silk but have yet to continue working larger strings to position dogs to achieve a smooth flow and rhythm. Hooked up smaller groups to make sure everything okay. Dogs are very much the survivors and creatures of what we train into them. They do get dumpy but are amazingly resilient.

Conclusions
If at all possible, run the race course before the event, applies mainly to speed drivers. Large strings versus small strings in so doing, recommend the larger strings to get the feel of what sort of power one is dealing with. Know also, no matter how long one is in the sport, out of the blue, when least expected, the elephant of fate can do-do on you at any time.

Side Note
After all the 8 and 9 percent up and downhill curvy grades, the brakes on the truck went out in the driveway the next time we drove it.

Hmmmm.