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