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

Marvin Update

Marvin has started lying down while the team is running - this is a very bad thing.  Dogs can be drug to death if the musher is unable to stop the team (think the Happy River Steps or going down Eagle Summit for example).  I took him to the vet to find a cause and he has heart problems - irregular heartbeat and murmur on both sides.  His pulse does not correspond with his heartbeat.  His career as a distance dog is over. 

Marvin is a very sweet animal and exactly the kind of dog I wanted for my Quest team.  This just breaks my heart.  Without further tests (read expensive - x-rays and EKG for starters) we don't know how bad this is.  In a recreational team running short distances (10 miles?), or a pet home he might have a normal lifespan, or he might not. 

I've only known him for a couple of months, but I grieve for my friend and miss his strength, friendship, and easy going ways in my team.

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Sheep Mountain 150

I get to Run Sheep Mountain!  My good friend Mike Suprenant had two teams entered and told me he doesn't think his young dogs can handle it, so he is giving me one of his entries.  Thank you so much Mike!  We will do back-to-back 60's tonight and get drop bags ready Friday.  By Monday we will have a tired musher and team.  Stories to come.

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Marvin

Ever has a dog teach you about faith and trust?  To load the dogs I turn them loose and let them run to the truck, then I walk over and load them as they bounce around excitedly (of course hiding a yummy chummy in each box doesn’t hurt.)  That is except for the two new dogs, Marvin and Z-2.  I’ve been leading them out by hand still. 

Marvin has been trying to climb into his box and today he was particularly eager to run (he is a big strong dog, almost pulling me over) so I turned him loose and walked over expecting him to be trying to climb in.  He wasn’t there by his box, but they mill around on both sides of the truck, so I loaded the other dogs expecting him to turn up any minute – no Marvin.  Oops.

Look around, call, no Marvin.  Shoot.  Walk down the street while the remaining dogs in the lot go nuts.  No Marvin.  Load Frodo and then the girls.  No Marvin.  I’m getting frustrated and worried about him, but I can’t find him so he will have to find his own way home.  Sure hope he makes it.

I’m scooping the yard, expecting him to return any minute, when I realize there is one place I hadn’t looked – in his box in the truck.  Sure enough there he is resting on the straw in the back of the box wondering what the fuss was all about.  Dogs!

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric