The Journey Continues
January 27, 2007
"I’m not a complete idiot. Some parts are missing". - unknown

I’ve been talking about driving 16 dogs on a sled for some time (remember I took 14 in last years Iditarod), but for one reason and another I kept putting it off. Thursday January 18th, before the Klondike 300 on Saturday, I decided to “just do it”. I had hoped for company, but with only 17 dogs training to race there is only one 16 dog team. I was going to try the local trails, but didn’t want the traffic and passing issues. I was going to run either the Klondike or the Don Bowers, but neither Dijon nor Rosemary is up to that long a race yet. Three back to back 40 mile runs with a long rest after the first run and a regular rest after the second sounded just right. I was going to run the Knik 200 trail, but remember the Knik trail breakers telling me that the trail from the Nome sign to the confluence with the Yentna had not be used and they had to break it out. The Klondike website said their trail had to be rerouted due to impassible sugar snow just out of the Forks Roadhouse and the new loop, from the Tug Bar to Deshka to Yentna to Flathorn Lake to the Tug Bar sounded like a nice trip.

At 4 PM Thursday, for the first time in my life, I pulled the hook on a 16 dog team and off we went. The power in this dog team was amazing, but they quickly settled down into a nice traveling pace. For the first 20 miles this is the same trail we traveled in the Knik 200 (the Klondike trail merges in after about 5 miles) and things were going pretty smooth. I caught the turn off the Iditarod trail onto a nice tight winding trail through the trees. It’s dark and I am enjoying the scenery when the trail drops down a small incline with a left turn at the bottom and a dead tree on the inside of the turn. I have just time to realize I need to steer to the outside of the turn when the dogs drag me into the tree. We crash hard. I take the blow on my left arm. I don’t think it’s broke, but it sure hurts. The cross piece on the sled under the drive bow is bent back 2 inches – this is ¾ inch by 1 ¾ inch tubular aluminum and pretty tough stuff. I bend it back and remove all but ½ inch of the bow – the sled is still drivable. The dogs are yammering and slamming their harnesses wanting to go and I pull the hook before we break something else.

The rest of this trail is very pleasant, ranging from tight and winding to fairly wide and straight. We come to an intersection with a trail that looks like a main highway and the markers go left. I call the left turn and Platinum and Dash go right. I call haw again and the dogs go straight – at least this is progress so I call haw again and the dogs go right. I have no idea what makes the right turn look so much better, but this goes on for several times with the 16 dog team getting more and more tangled each time. Finally I get a snowhook to hold and lead the team to the left. In the tangle the gangline wrapped tight around Lycos leg and his is complaining. Luckily he isn’t far back in the team and I can pull the dogs in front of him back to relieve the pressure and free his leg. He seems fine and off we go again.

The arm still hurts. In my first aid kit are ziplock bags to fill with snow to ice the dogs’ sore joints. It would probably be a good idea for me too. I stop the sled, get some Advil and the ziplock. I take off my parka and start to take off the fleece top when Platinum and Dash turn the team around to go the other way. Of course the snow hooks don’t hold backwards and by the time I get the team stopped my parka and gear are 15 feet behind the sled. I have no idea why the dogs want to go the other direction, but they sure do. With more than a little trepidation that they might pull the snowhooks out and leave me there, I walk back and gather my gear, get the ziplock with snow against the sore arm, get dressed and turn the team around again. This time the gangline is wrapped around Throttle’s belly and I can barely get enough slack in the line to get it loose. 16 dogs is a challenge.
At 8PM we are almost to Willow and about 4 hours into the run (traveling 30 miles by GPS) when I see a nice spot to camp. I’ve only seen two dog teams, no snowmachines, so I’m slightly off the main trail on a snowmachine track. The plan is to get me a good night’s sleep (this is supposed to be fun after all). About 10 PM, after feeding the dogs and myself, I set the alarm for 6AM and crawl into my sleeping bag. It is snowing so I’ve made a little lean-to off the sled with a small tarp I carry. About 3 AM the dogs start to bark and I see headlamps coming – I turn on my light so they know I’m there. It is the two dog teams we saw earlier. My dogs that normally rest so well and ignore passing teams aren’t tired and bang their collars (I took the tug lines off) to go. The sled shakes, but I tied off the snub line to a tree. Ten minutes later the dogs are still talking, but start to settle down. Then I hear growling – I get up out of the lean-to in my long underwear and the dogs have pulled the leader snowhook that keeps the team strung out when we stop and are in a massive ball of dog and line. Three-thirty AM in my underwear in a snowstorm untangling 16 dogs. What some people do for fun.

By 4 all is fixed and I’m back in bed questioning my sanity. Breakfast is uneventful and we are back on the trail. Lexi and I trained out of Willow the last two years and these trails are familiar. We hit the Willow Swamp Loop and start down Corral Hill trail to the Susitna when I see the Klondike race trail (which I have been following) take a side trail to the right. Not knowing any better I follow it.

The next thing I know I’m on the paved road to Deshka Landing. The race trail followed the snowmaching trail under the telephone lines off to the side, but I didn’t see that in time. The marked trail crosses the road and goes down the boat ramp at Deshka Landing, just like the Iditarod trail for a Willow start, but the ramp looks closed and I don’t want to get 16 dogs into something I can’t get out of.

We are heading down the road to a locked gate, but there is a side road and we turn left expecting to find a subdivision loop – just a dog team length down the road is another bar gate just over dog high. I stop the team and work hard to set a hook at the side of the road. The 16 dogs a screaming to go. I turn the team around to go back the way we came and they turn back down the road to the main gate. Somehow I manage to stop the team and turn them around again and they go back down the side road, this time the front six dogs are under the gate by the time I get them stopped. I clear the tangles, get the dogs turned around (Again!) and we are going back the way we came. Large sigh of relief.

I try to get the dogs off the road onto the trail under the power lines – Lycos starts but Dash says no way. That’s ok we’ll just turn where we came in. Lycos tries but Dash says no way again. I can’t stop the team on the pavement – the drag slows them down but the dogs are going wherever they want and I’m just along for the ride. I can’t let them know I’m powerless or I lose all credibility – so I pretend that I want to go down the road. Three cars towing snowmaching on trailers pass us going the other way. Luckily Lycos stays to the right side of the road. If the dogs continue straight we will come out on the Parks highway – a really bad thing. But I know there is a right turn up ahead that goes to a staging area and crosses the main trail out of Willow to the swamp loop. I always have trouble finding that with the truck, but it beats the Parks.

I see the turn, call “gee” and to my great relief the dogs take the turn. About ½ mile later I see a trail through the woods to the right and call “gee” – the dogs take the turn and I’m on good snow. I stop the team, set both snowhooks, breath a large sigh of relief and get out my map to see where we are. This trail merges with the main trail about a mile down and we are back on the Willow swamp loop. I go down the Corral Hill trail (not taking the marked trail to the right) and make it to the Susitna River. Whew!

The main trail from Willow goes downstream on the Susitna and then up the Yentna. I want to cut that part off and proceed straight down the Susitna and catch the K300 trail as it comes back from Yentna to Flathorn Lake. This works pretty well and just about the time I expect to turn to Flathorn Lake I see a major intersection going that way – but the trail that goes in the direction I expect is marked for a snowmachine race and probably goes up the Iron Dog trail just upriver from the Iditarod trail. The other trail is marked with K300 stakes and I take it. Sure enough I’m going up the Yentna (backwards on the K300 trail) and figure it out only two miles later. Back to the intersection and I get a real piece of luck. There are two snowmachiners and they turn out to be the trail breakers for the K300 race. The trail that I need to Flathorn has not been broken out yet and these two gentlemen will do that for me. What a gift!

The snowmachines leave an easy to follow trail, but it is 2 to 8 inches of soft punchy trail. Snowhooks do not hold – the dogs just pull them through the snow. After a couple of miles I stop the team for a break and walk up to my leaders – just walking in this stuff is hard work and the dogs are pulling me and a heavy sled. We get off the river and the trail is no better. The great dismal swamp hardly has a mark on it from the Knik 200 two weeks earlier. On the trees just north of Flathorn Lake I find a nice place to camp about 3:30 in the afternoon. It is a little early, but the dogs have worked hard for 7 hours to go 40 miles (with a couple of detours).
It is dark when we leave camp and pull onto Flathorn Lake. I bless the trailbreakers again. Flathorn is completely blown in with no sign of a trail other than where these gentlemen went. It is a hard slog through 8 inches of soft trail, but at least the trail is marked. The lake trail goes down one side around a peninsula and up the other then off the lake. About half way down the first side we hit ground fog. I can look up and see stars, but sometimes I cannot see past the back 6 dogs in the team. I know I have leaders, but I can’t see them. As we come around the point of land it must be more protected. The snow isn’t as deep and there are many snowmachine tracks. Lycos and Dash loose the trail in the darkness. In the fog I can’t shine my headlamp and find the markers. The trail goes up close to the left bank and we are on the right bank of the lake – there are lots of side trails, coves, and homes here. I know the trail leaves the lake near the top on the right so if I keep going up the lake on the right side sooner or later I should cross the outbound trail – typically that turn across the lake is well marked.

As we go up the lake the fog thins and I can pick which snowmachine track I want the dogs to follow. I keep veering left and pretty soon am back on the main trail. Sure enough the turn off the lake is well marked and we are back on main well defined trails in the trees. These trails were protected from the wind and there is just the 2 inches of fresh snow on top of a good base.

The trail breakers we unfamiliar with the Iditarod trail and I warned them there are a couple of tricky turns to watch for. Sure enough about 11 PM just before the Nome sign we are on a well used trail when I see two big X’s of lath – that is musher signs for “this is the wrong trail”. By the time I get the team stopped the front 4 dogs are past the X. Looking around in the dark I see the Iditarod trail blew in at this corner and the trailbreakers took the wrong trail – that meant they were going backwards when they made the turn. I get off the sled and lead the dogs through knee high soft snow back to the proper trail. With a quick “hike” we are off for the last 20 miles to Knik.

We get to Knik at 1AM – somewhat later than planned. By the time I get everyone feed, sled unloaded, truck packed, drive home, and unload dogs and essential gear (the rest will wait until tomorrow) it is 4AM and I fall into bed.

What an adventure.
Keep ‘em Northbound
Eric
© 2007 All rights reserved