Early Race Strategies

Most mushers don’t like to run during the “heat of the day”, typically between 1 or 2 PM and 5 or 6 PM.  Even if it is cold out, this is a low period in the dogs’ biorhythms and running during those hours, they are slower and it seems to take more out of them.  There is another low point for both mushers and dogs, in the wee small hours of the morning around 4 AM or so.  That is where the “getting on a good run / rest cycle” comes from.  So the 2PM re-start puts the early bib numbers out when they least want to run. Some mushers will enter after the first day to avoid that, but most have another issue in mind.

The trail from Skwentna to Rainy Pass typically doesn’t exist until Iditarod puts it in for the race (Iron Dog goes through Shell Lake, not One Stone).  Finger Lake is deep snow country, with 15 feet of snow on the ground being common.  If there isn’t continuous traffic on the trail, the trail breakers can only pack the top of the snow pack.  As the race comes by the trail breaks up and later teams have slower / harder pulling.  You can see who really worries about this by watching to see who the first 10 mushers into Finger Lake are.  By the time the back of the pack gets there (yours truly), there can be trenches on the corners and downhill parts (anywhere mushers ahead used their brake to slow down) that are a couple of feet deep.  In 2009 the trench on the steps was deeper than I am tall.  Of course the new mining activity in the area and going around the steps this year could change that.

Most competitive mushers will go to Rohn in three runs.  Some mushers like to run to Yentna Station (or just past), then to Finger Lake, and then a long run from Finger to Rohn.  But the favorite among competitive mushers is to run from Willow to Skwentna, about 70 miles, (or just before or past), rest there, and move quickly through Finger Lake to Finnbear (Helicopter) Lake (about ½ way between Finger Lake and Rainy Pass Lodge – about 55 miles).  From there it is an easy run to Rohn, about 50 miles.  Sebastian likes to hold to his run/rest cycle and will camp past Rohn, but most people stop there (more on Rohn in a bit).

There are advantage and disadvantages to camping Vs staying in the checkpoint.  If you are camping you will need to melt snow for water for the dogs (about 25 min) and fix your own meal.  Yentna Station has a hole in the river for water (much faster than melting snow – just heat it) and a spaghetti feed in the checkpoint for the mushers.  Skwentna has hot water and hot potluck meals with a warm place to sleep.  Finger Lake has a hole in the lake for water and a gourmet meal (black bean burritos?) for the mushers.  Finnbear Lake has a hospitality stop with a warm cabin to sleep in, stew, and hot water for the dogs. 

But early in the race the checkpoints are crowded (everyone is still packed together) and that compromises the quality of the rest of the musher and dogs and exposes both to more colds and viruses.  The odd distances between checkpoints throws off the run / rest cycle that you are typing to establish.  There is always something to think about.  Watching who stops where will tell you how they rank these priorities.

Rohn is only a small cabin, but it is nestled in big trees that effectively shelter it and break the wind (which typically blows strongly up or down the canyon).  It has great tasting water from a shallow part of the river against the bank that never freezes, but that is a ¼ mile walk each way.  Most mushers stop here to regroup before tackling the Bison Tunnels (not tunnels so much anymore, but frequently blown clear of snow), the new burn area and the old Farewell Burn.  Then it is off to Nikolai with the first running water you have seen since leaving home, clothes dryers for your gear, hot water for your dogs, free food for the mushers, a quiet place to sleep in the school gym, and internet access.  An almost unresistible combination.

For mushers who don’t want to make the long run to Nikolai without a break, about ½ way there is Bison Camp – a guided hunting camp and the last sheltered area from the wind.  It is open to all with wood for the stoves.  About 15 miles from there is Sullivan Creek, another favorite because the creek never freezes (there is a bridge over it for the trail and a bucket on a rope to get water).  Finally there is Martin’s favorite, a fish camp about 15 miles from Nikolai that sets you up nicely for a run to a 24 in McGrath.

Of course all the mushers are positioning themselves for their 24 at this point, typically in McGrath (great support, stores and repairs if needed, hot water for the dogs), Takotna (great food, hot water for the dogs), or for some, Ophir (just a cabin, with a warm tent to sleep in, but typically very quiet).  Swingley used to like to go to the halfway point to take his 24 to avoid the crowds, but recently most competitive mushers have been nervous about the trail which typically doesn’t exist until Iditarod puts it in and there are no reports about quality, and have not pushed through to there to 24. 

Watch your favorite mushers and maybe this will help explain why they stopped where they did.

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

Training Run

Thursday I got a little bored and took the dogs to Willow for a run.  I thought about going to Skwentna and back, but at the Skwentna Roadhouse I found the Iron Dog trail to Shell Lake and it sounded like fun.  The map on the left shows the Iron Dog trail starting in Big Lake, I picked it up as we came to the Yentna River.

It's big open country - this is the swamp leaving Skwentna

 More of the swamp













Two stakes in an X indicate a trail hazard











In this case it had been open water alongside the trail.  This is pretty common along the river, but easy to avoid if you stay on the established trail

 After the swamp there is a nice run through the trees

 This is the sign leaving Shell Lake going back to Skwentna

 View of Sleeping Lady (Mt Susitna) from the backside

 And a dog team doing what God designed them to do.  It was a good trip - with a couple of side trips we did 190 miles in 36 hours.  However, I can assure you that 3 AM Saturday morning is not the best time to remember that you left your leader that knows the turn off the Susitna River to go up Corral Hill sleeping in the kitchen with a sore foot. 

I realized that Klinger and Dash didn't know the turn when we got to Deshka Landing, about 2 miles past it.  No problem, turn the team around, find the turn, off the river and all is well, right?  At 3:30 AM we jumped a moose in the middle of the road and she ran down the road and around a corner.  With visions of Karen Ramstead's adventure dancing in my head I cautiously proceeded.  We didn't see the moose again, but when I got to the truck at 4:15 AM I was thoroughly awake.

Got home at 7 AM with a tired, but very happy dog team.

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Stomped

About an hour thirty into our training run tonight I came around a blind corner to see a huge moose in the middle of the trail going after my leaders.  Same cow I’ve been seeing all season, about 1500 lbs, but before she always left the trail as I held the team back.  Now she gets one or both front feet tangled in the lines and is half drug down the trail.  I can’t tell if she is tangled just behind the leaders or the swing dogs.  Jump on the brake to stop the team and give her a chance to get loose. 

She stomps at the dogs, Rosemary and Mocha in lead try melt into the snow, Dash and Ginger in swing pull as far away as they can.  Her feet come loose.  She stomps again and walks down the team towards me.  Then she turns into the team and stomps Pilfer and Thyme in first team just after swing.  Back into the trail, still coming towards me.  She stops opposite Z-2 and Basil, two pair of dogs up from wheel.  The moose is 20 feet away, facing me at an angle.  The trail is 6 feet wide and she is taking up the 2/3 of opposite me.

Options?  I don’t’ carry a gun.  I’ve got an axe in the sled, a Quest musher killed a moose during the race with his axe when it attacked his team (handguns forbidden in Canada).  The front of the team is tangled, but I didn’t hear any dogs scream as they were stomped and I don’t hear hurt dog sounds.  Can I drive the last 4 dogs and the sled past her?  No time to think, just do it.

Off the brake and the front of the team begins to move – it’s not pretty with the tangle but its working.  The moose stomps at Pepper and Dukat in front of wheel, then stands there.  I’m watching the dogs and don’t know how far I was past her nose (or if I even went under it!).  Let’s get out of here!

Stop the team around the first corner, is she chasing us?  Don’t see her.  Set both snowhooks real firm (the team has been pulling them loose) and check again.  Nope.  Walk up to the leaders and check again.  Still clear.  Untangle the leaders, swing dogs, and first team dogs.  Still no moose.  Cursory exam shows no blood or lameness.  Let’s go.

At home everyone looks fine.  I’ll know more about soreness in the morning, but I don’t expect anything.  Five hours later Marti says my twitch is hardly noticeable and I expect my heart rate to return to normal in a couple of days J

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

Withdrawn from the Quest

I have officially withdrawn from this year’s Yukon Quest.  The team is looking good and we have trained hard, but the finances never came together.  I am still trying to raise money / sponsorships to participate in mid-distance races this year.  All support is greatly appreciated.  I know God has a plan, I just need to be patient and let it come together.

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Sheep Mountain 150 Part 3

Those rookie demons are still haunting me.  In the Sheep Mountain Race we use the same parking spots for both checkpoint layovers.  You put out most of the straw the first time, saving a little because the second time you will park in the opposite direction.  That means your sled is where your wheel dogs used to be and your leaders are where the sled was parked.  So you have some straw for the leaders and to freshen the other piles.  This time the wind has blown most of the straw to Siberia.  Everyone has to share the little bit we have left.  It is a psychological boost, but offers no real warmth.

With the howling wind and blowing snow, I put the coats back on the dogs, grateful I brought them in spite of the warm forecast.  Booties are off and the dogs curl up while I get hot water for dinner.  Bad news.  The dogs are in survival mode and only Frodo and Z-2 really eat.  Dukat picks at it and everyone else refuses to even raise a head.  Dang.  I dump it on the snow to encourage eating, knowing I probably shouldn’t, but only a couple more touch any.  Let’s get some breakfast and rest.  Maybe it will look better later.

Lexi talks me into fixing them some broth but they still don’t move.  Scratching runs though my head.  I walk away hoping they will eat the broth in my absence, enviously watching another team barking to go as they are being hooked up. 

Oh well, it is about 5 miles to Martin Road.  If they still look this poor when we get there I can go straight to Sheep Mountain Lodge and scratch.  I take off their coats and start to hook them up.  About half way through the team they come to life and start to bark.  The change is incredible.  This poor, tired, worn out, dog team that didn’t want to move is screaming to go again. 

This sport is so mental, for both the dogs and the musher.  We hadn’t raced for two years and the dogs forgot what a checkpoint looked like and what they were supposed to do there.  We hadn’t raced for two years and I lost faith in my team when I saw that behavior.  Message to self – never give up!

The dogs take off stronger than at the beginning of the race.  Storm or no storm we are having fun.  There is some blown in trail getting to Martin Rd but the dogs plough right through it.  The climb up Belanger Pass is long and steep in parts.  We stop to rest several times, but there was no thought of turning back.  I rest the team less than a minute, until a couple of dogs bark to go (typically Mocha and Ginger), and we are off again. 

The backside of Syncline Mountain is protected from the storm, and after the pass we gain ground on the team following us.  I still have Klinger and Dash in lead.  Remember that stream that Rosemary and Pilfer balked at on the first run.  We approach it and I get ready to stop on a dime and avoid the tangle, but Klinger and Dash jump over the creek without pausing and everyone else has to follow.  What great leaders!

The further we get into the run the stronger the dogs get.  We pass one team as we round the bend onto Squaw Creek and charge back to Martin Rd.  As we get closer to Martin Rd the dogs got more and more excited.  Going down the road to the turn to Gunsight Mountain I could hardly hold them back.  We turn off the road onto the trail and the reason becomes obvious – there is a team ahead of us.  I am supposed to be training slow and steady for the Quest, but what the heck – this is a race.  I let the dogs go.  They settled into a ground eating trot, not a lope (all my training was paying off!).  Slowly we gain ground and then suddenly pass the other team.  But the dogs don’t settle down.  Sure enough another team is ahead of us.  We catch and pass them only to see another team in the distance.  Altogether we caught and passed 4 teams from Martin Rd to the finish line.  Man that feels good!

The race finishes at the East end of the Lodge parking lot.  Most teams with handlers have moved their dog trucks to the parking lot to make loading the dogs easier after the race.  My truck was still at the airport, across the parking lot and down a side road beside the lodge.  I ask for help to lead Klinger and Dash to the side road, but Klinger wants no part of it.  He starts to the line of trucks to the left looking for our truck.  “Gee.”  He goes to the right side line of trucks.  “Haw” he comes back to the middle still heading across the lot. 

There is a car coming out of the road to the airport.  They stop, but their headlights almost blind us in the dark.  “Gee.”  Klinger swings right around the car, sees the road and follows it to the dog truck.  I almost fall off the sled.  Open field gee/haw is very advanced leader work.  I’d been training for it, but never thought they were this good.  Wow!

We wind up 30^th out of 44 finishers and 46 starters, the first time I’m not dead last in this race.  The first and third loops in this race are the same, just run in opposite directions.  We ran the third loop 15 minutes faster than we ran the second loop.  Exactly the type of performance I wanted.  This reminds me of a quote from Napoleon Bonaparte "The art of choosing men is not nearly so difficult as the art of enabling those one has chosen to attain their full worth." – works for dogs too and that is the thrill of sled dog racing!

As for my momentary lack of faith at Eureka Lodge, I need to remember “Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful people with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated failures. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.”  - Calvin Coolidge

Keep the faith and

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

Sheep Mountain 150 Part 2

All rest is not created equal.  I love the Sheep Mountain race and Eureka lodge fixes a killer burger, but I never get any sleep there.  I don’t know if the dogs feel the same way, or if they just key off me, but four of the dogs don’t eat.  I’m worried about keeping weight on the dogs and spill their food on the snow to encourage them.  This is a typical rookie mistake; the smart thing is to let them get hungry and learn to eat when I feed them, but I can’t seem to help myself.  In hindsight this is what happens when you get out of race mode for 2 years.  You worry too much, rather than letting the dogs learn from their mistakes.
 

For my first Sheep Mountain Race Lexi and I had trained on the Syncline Mountain loop (first loop of the race) and knew it was hilly.  The second Eureka loop was supposed to be much flatter.  I took a tired (under conditioned) team out for the second loop and was horrified to find the first ten miles going substantially up and down with one long (killer) climb.  I thought I would die before we reached the top of the plateau.  These thoughts run through my mind as we start the second loop and I’m determined to either pedal or run up all the hills to help the dogs (I did some of them on the first loop, but didn’t make a big deal of it).  The good news is that after riding my bike all spring and fall and working on the glacier all summer I can physically do this.  The bad news is the dogs are starting to expect it and ask for more. 

We hit a hill and half the heads turn around to look at me.  In lead, Rosemary and Pilfer slow down; Frodo and Dukat find a snow bank to mark.  My good intensions are leading to revolt.  For two hours I work harder and harder up the hills and it just gets worse.  I’m yelling at the dogs for not doing their part, with visions of an undertrained, under conditioned dog team dancing in my head.  My race is falling apart before my eyes and I know it is nobody’s fault but mine, but I can’t seem to figure out what to do. 

Two hours into this loop I finally shake off this rookie fugue and swap leaders.  Klinger and Dash go up in lead and everything changes.  We are through most of the hills, but now I stand on the runners or sit down and they power up the hills we hit.  The whole attitude is different – previous obstacles are minor efforts not worth talking about.  We hustle on the flats, go calmly down the hills, and in general look like a team of professionals. 

In know what a difference a leader makes, and know dogs cycle up and down just like people and know good and well if it isn’t working you change something.  I also know that if I was half as good a dog trainer and my dogs are people trainers, I’d be a lot better at this.  I’m just glad the dogs played their little head games with me now rather than waiting until the Quest.  I’m starting to get my “competent dog trainer / musher” mentality back instead of the rookie passenger/victim mode I was operating in.  Man!  Mushing dogs is much more mental than physical.

The weather that has been nice and cool (about 0) is warming up and in Alaska that is a bad sign.  Sure enough, the stars low in the horizon become obscured.  Then clouds move in overhead.  The wind starts to blow, moving the snow on the ground and tree branches around.  Then it starts to fall.  We are in and out of the trees by now and mostly protected.  When we pop out onto a creek the trail is completely drifted in.  I have no idea where it goes, but Klinger and Dash plough through like they were on the highway – off the creek, into the woods, and trail markers magically appear.  Dang these dogs are good.

Some interesting whoop-de-do’s through the trees and one “holy cow” descent later we hit the power line trail beside the Glenn Highway.  It’s about 10 race miles back to Eureka, but now I can see the storm.  A plow is working up and down the highway.  Occasionally we hit a drifted in section, but the trail is obvious.  Klinger and Dash keep bulling through with all 10 dogs behind them following their example.  It’s almost like driving a train.

We leave the highway for the last two mile loop over going back to the lodge.  As we break out on top it is open and exposed.  The wind howls, the snow flies, and the trail is completely blown in.  This section is new this year and soon Klinger and Dash are floundering in over two feet of soft unpacked powder.  It only takes a minute before I remember Zack said if you’re in deep snow, you are off the trail.  Stop the team and look around.  This is reminding me of the 2009 Iditarod when we were stuck on the Yukon River for so long.  Am I going to have to wait for daylight to find the trail like we did there?  Nope, there it is, off to the left.  Klinger “Haw”.  “Good dog.”  Thirty minutes later, at 7:50 AM (still dark), we are back at Eureka in 35^th place and settling in for our next 5 hour rest.

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

Sheep Mountain 150 Part 1

You could have knocked me over with a feather.  It is Tuesday evening and we’ve just finished our training run on the local trails.  As nice as it is to run these trails, I was telling God that the dogs and I would really like to go somewhere different.  We would like to run the Sheep Mountain 150, which will start Saturday, but I just don’t have the entry fee. 

Mike Suprenant is hooking up his team as we pull in and he asks me if I have plans for this weekend.  He has two teams entered in the Sheep Mountain race, but his yearlings are not ready and would I like his entry.  Yes!  Thank you so very much Mike, this is a dream come true.  Pat Schue’s Dixon gave Mocha a Christmas present that will cover roundtrip gas and my daughter sprung for a room for Sunday night so I get a good night’s sleep before driving home.  God is so good.

Saturday morning we show up at the Sheep Mountain Airport.  The dog trucks are parked in a chevron formation, like feathers on an arrow, and the team will leave down the shaft of the arrow. 

I’m dancing around like a little kid a Christmas – Mike Suprenant is parked beside me hooking up his handlers team, Bonnie, Leslie, and Elliot all stop by to say hi (they are handling for Misha), Lyne comes over as does Jeff King, and Mitch Seavey is across the chute from me.  This is like old home week.  I had forgotten how much I enjoy it, and the best is yet to come.

This can be cold country and normally I wear my arctic suit, but the forecast for the Copper River Basin, including Eureka lodge is to be in the 20’s.  At the last minute I grabbed my lighter “town” suit and hope I’m not under dressed.  To hedge my bet I carry a second pair of thermal underwear and a Patagonia microdown anorak.  The starting temps were in the low teens and it looks like I made the right decision.

The starting line is at the end of the chute of dog trucks.  From there we will run down the runway a bit, around the lodge on the ski trails, and finally out to the trail beside the road (map of race trail).  I’ve trained the dogs to go out easy and they quickly settle into a nice 8 mph pace.  Soon we pop up onto the old road and after a few miles start the climb over the shoulder of Gunsight mountain.  We are passed by a few teams, including Jeff King and Mitch Seavey – you can see two teams ahead of me in this first climb of the race.

I’ve got Rosemary and Pilfer in lead (dogs) followed by Mocha and Thyme in swing, Klinger, Rosemary, Ginger, Beamer, Basil, and Dukat in team with Frodo and Z^2 in wheel.  Everyone is working well and I’m pleased. 

From here we go up Martin Rd and Zack Steer warned us the turn off Martin Rd onto Squaw Creek is heavily glaciated.  I’m watching for this and see a team coming back – “this can’t be the right way” he says.  Rosemary looks at the solid wall of wet sloping ice covering the road, dives left, stays low against the brush at the bottom (left) where there is a little bit of snow, pops a left turn onto Squaw Creek and runs right through all the nastiness.  She had run this trail before, remembered how it went, and no ice was going to stop her – at least not this time.  My heart swells with pride in my dogs.  You have done well grasshopper.  I tried to get a photo, but the cold has killed my high tech proprietary rechargeable camera battery – grrr.  It’s only 0, not like it’s really cold out.

We run down Squaw Creek, then Albert Creek and finally up Caribou creek going around Syncline Mountain.  Just on the back side we hit one of those “Holy Cow” descents with a sharp 90 degree turn to the right at the bottom.  The teams ahead have scraped the snow down to the rocks – the team I’ve worked so hard to teach to go slowly down the hills decides it is a life or death matter to beat the sled down the hill.  The brake just skitters off the large round rocks, the drag helps a little.  My heart rate doubles faster than the dogs pace and I only have time for a couple of quick prayers before the turn, then it’s over.  Just another sled dog cardio test – if you survive, your heart is in good shape.  The dogs are so kind to keep checking on us old guys that way J.

Of course pride goeth before the fall.  A few minutes later, a side creek come in and another glacier blocks the trail.  This time there tracks going left down the side creek onto Caribou Creel and that is where Rosemary goes.  Stop the team and call her back “gee”.  No response.  Again, “gee”, she goes further left.  Set the hook, walk out into the slush / ice, call her up and see a team stuck behind us.  I move the team forward to clear the trail, let the other team pass and clear the resultant tangle – dogs will be dogs.  If you want a robot got to Radio Shack,

The rest of the run to Eureka proves uneventful, just me and a dozen of my best friends enjoying a nice day in the Alaskan wilderness.  Temperatures are running about 0, but I’m working just enough behind the sled to stay warm.  At 7:33 PM we pull into Eureka Lodge in 36^th place to begin our mandatory 5 hour rest.

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric