Eric O. Rogers - R Northbound Dogs

Withdrawn from the Quest

2012-01-19T10:52:00.002-09:00

I have officiallywithdrawn from this year’s Yukon Quest. The team is looking good and we have trained hard, but the financesnever came together. I am still tryingto raise money / sponsorships to participate in mid-distance races thisyear. All support is greatlyappreciated. I know God has a plan, I justneed to be patient and let it come together.

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Sheep Mountain 150 Part 3

2012-01-05T09:57:00.003-09:00

Those rookie demons are still haunting me. In the Sheep Mountain Race we use the sameparking spots for both checkpoint layovers. You put out most of the straw the first time, saving a little becausethe second time you will park in the opposite direction. That means your sled is where your wheel dogsused to be and your leaders are where the sled was parked. So you have some straw for the leaders and tofreshen the other piles. This time thewind 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 noreal warmth.

With the howling wind and blowing snow, I put thecoats back on the dogs, grateful I brought them in spite of the warmforecast. Booties are off and the dogscurl up while I get hot water for dinner. Bad news. The dogs are insurvival mode and only Frodo and Z-2 really eat. Dukat picks at it and everyone else refusesto 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 theystill don’t move. Scratching runs thoughmy head. I walk away hoping they willeat the broth in my absence, enviously watching another team barking to go asthey are being hooked up.

Oh well, it is about 5 miles to Martin Road. If they still look this poor when we getthere I can go straight to Sheep Mountain Lodge and scratch. I take off their coats and start to hook themup. About half way through the team theycome to life and start to bark. Thechange 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 themusher. We hadn’t raced for two yearsand the dogs forgot what a checkpoint looked like and what they were supposedto do there. We hadn’t raced for twoyears 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 ofthe race. Storm or no storm we arehaving fun. There is some blown in trailgetting to Martin Rd but the dogs plough right through it. The climb up Belanger Pass is long and steepin 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 fromthe 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 Pilferbalked at on the first run. We approachit and I get ready to stop on a dime and avoid the tangle, but Klinger and Dashjump over the creek without pausing and everyone else has to follow. What great leaders!

The further we get into the run the stronger thedogs get. We pass one team as we roundthe bend onto Squaw Creek and charge back to Martin Rd. As we get closer to Martin Rd the dogs gotmore and more excited. Going down theroad to the turn to Gunsight Mountain I could hardly hold them back. We turn off the road onto the trail and the reasonbecomes obvious – there is a team ahead of us. I am supposed to be training slow and steady for the Quest, but what theheck – this is a race. I let the dogsgo. They settled into a ground eatingtrot, not a lope (all my training was paying off!). Slowly we gain ground and then suddenly passthe other team. But the dogs don’tsettle down. Sure enough another team isahead of us. We catch and pass them onlyto see another team in the distance. Altogetherwe 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 parkinglot. Most teams with handlers have movedtheir dog trucks to the parking lot to make loading the dogs easier after therace. 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 tothe 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 stillheading across the lot.

There is a car coming out of the road to theairport. They stop, but their headlightsalmost blind us in the dark. “Gee.” Klinger swings right around the car, sees theroad and follows it to the dog truck. Ialmost fall off the sled. Open fieldgee/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 and46 starters, the first time I’m not dead last in this race. The first and third loops in this race arethe same, just run in opposite directions. We ran the third loop 15 minutes faster than we ran the secondloop. Exactly the type of performance Iwanted. This reminds me of a quote from NapoleonBonaparte "The art of choosing men is not nearly so difficult as the artof enabling those one has chosen to attain their full worth." – works fordogs too and that is the thrill of sled dog racing!

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

Keepthe faith and

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

Sheep Mountain 150 Part 2

2011-12-27T11:13:00.003-09:00

All rest is not created equal. I love the Sheep Mountain race and Eurekalodge 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 dogsand spill their food on the snow to encourage them. This is a typical rookie mistake; the smartthing is to let them get hungry and learn to eat when I feed them, but I can’tseem to help myself. In hindsight thisis what happens when you get out of race mode for 2 years. You worry too much, rather than letting thedogs learn from their mistakes.

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

We hit a hill and half the heads turn around to lookat me. In lead, Rosemary and Pilfer slowdown; 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 thehills and it just gets worse. I’myelling 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 faultbut mine, but I can’t seem to figure out what to do.

Two hours into this loop I finally shake off thisrookie fugue and swap leaders. Klingerand Dash go up in lead and everything changes. We are through most of the hills, but now I stand on the runners or sitdown and they power up the hills we hit. The whole attitude is different – previous obstacles are minor effortsnot worth talking about. We hustle onthe flats, go calmly down the hills, and in general look like a team ofprofessionals.

In know what a difference a leader makes, and knowdogs cycle up and down just like people and know good and well if it isn’tworking you change something. I alsoknow 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 justglad the dogs played their little head games with me now rather than waitinguntil the Quest. I’m starting to get my“competent dog trainer / musher” mentality back instead of the rookiepassenger/victim mode I was operating in. Man! Mushing dogs is much moremental than physical.

The weather that has been nice and cool (about 0) iswarming 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 onthe ground and tree branches around. Then it starts to fall. We are inand out of the trees by now and mostly protected. When we pop out onto a creek the trail iscompletely drifted in. I have no ideawhere it goes, but Klinger and Dash plough through like they were on thehighway – 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 andone “holy cow” descent later we hit the power line trail beside the GlennHighway. It’s about 10 race miles backto Eureka, but now I can see the storm. A plow is working up and down the highway. Occasionally we hit a drifted in section, butthe trail is obvious. Klinger and Dashkeep 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 overgoing back to the lodge. As we break outon top it is open and exposed. The windhowls, the snow flies, and the trail is completely blown in. This section is new this year and soonKlinger and Dash are floundering in over two feet of soft unpacked powder. It only takes a minute before I remember Zacksaid if you’re in deep snow, you are off the trail. Stop the team and look around. This is reminding me of the 2009 Iditarodwhen we were stuck on the Yukon River for so long. Am I going to have to wait for daylight tofind 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 (stilldark), we are back at Eureka in 35^th place and settling in for ournext 5 hour rest.

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

Sheep Mountain 150 Part 1

2011-12-23T14:43:00.000-09:00

You could haveknocked me over with a feather. It isTuesday evening and we’ve just finished our training run on the localtrails. As nice as it is to run thesetrails, I was telling God that the dogs and I would really like to go somewheredifferent. We would like to run theSheep Mountain 150, which will start Saturday, but I just don’t have the entryfee.

Mike Suprenantis hooking up his team as we pull in and he asks me if I have plans for thisweekend. He has two teams entered in theSheep Mountain race, but his yearlings are not ready and would I like hisentry. Yes! Thank you so very much Mike, this is a dreamcome true. Pat Schue’s Dixon gave Mochaa Christmas present that will cover roundtrip gas and my daughter sprung for aroom 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 MountainAirport. The dog trucks are parked in a chevronformation, like feathers on an arrow, and the team will leave down the shaft ofthe 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), Lynecomes over as does Jeff King, and Mitch Seavey is across the chute fromme. This is like old home week. I had forgotten how much I enjoy it, and thebest is yet to come.

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

The starting line is at the end of the chute of dogtrucks. From there we will run down therunway a bit, around the lodge on the ski trails, and finally out to the trailbeside the road (mapof race trail). I’vetrained the dogs to go out easy and they quickly settle into a nice 8 mphpace. Soon we pop up onto the old roadand after a few miles start the climb over the shoulder of Gunsightmountain. We are passed by a few teams,including Jeff King and Mitch Seavey – you can see two teams ahead of me inthis 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 warnedus the turn off Martin Rd onto Squaw Creek is heavily glaciated. I’m watching for this and see a team comingback – “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 alittle bit of snow, pops a left turn onto Squaw Creek and runs right through allthe nastiness. She had run this trailbefore, remembered how it went, and no ice was going to stop her – at least notthis time. My heart swells with pride inmy dogs. You have done well grasshopper. I tried to get a photo, but the cold haskilled 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 andfinally 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 tothe rocks – the team I’ve worked so hard to teach to go slowly down the hillsdecides it is a life or death matter to beat the sled down the hill. The brake just skitters off the large roundrocks, the drag helps a little. My heartrate doubles faster than the dogs pace and I only have time for a couple ofquick prayers before the turn, then it’s over. Just another sled dog cardio test – if you survive, your heart is ingood shape. The dogs are so kind to keepchecking on us old guys that way J.

Of course pride goeth before the fall. A few minutes later, a side creek come in andanother glacier blocks the trail. Thistime there tracks going left down the side creek onto Caribou Creel and that iswhere Rosemary goes. Stop the team andcall 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 andclear 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 Alaskanwilderness. Temperatures are runningabout 0, but I’m working just enough behind the sled to stay warm. At 7:33 PM we pull into Eureka Lodge in 36^thplace to begin our mandatory 5 hour rest.

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

Marvin Update

2011-12-15T17:17:00.001-09:00

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

2011-12-14T09:41:00.001-09:00

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

2011-12-06T12:44:00.001-09:00

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

Marvin has been trying to climb into his box andtoday he was particularly eager to run (he is a big strong dog, almost pullingme over) so I turned him loose and walked over expecting him to be trying toclimb in. He wasn’t there by his box,but they mill around on both sides of the truck, so I loaded the other dogsexpecting 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. NoMarvin. I’m getting frustrated andworried about him, but I can’t find him so he will have to find his own wayhome. Sure hope he makes it.

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

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

My sincere thanks to all my Sponsors

2011-11-26T15:11:00.001-09:00

CommercialSponsors

· Coastal Helicopters,Juneau, AK

· MarlysSauer, New Braunfels, TX

· Daily's Web Design, Chugiak, AK

DogSponsors

· MarlysSauer, New Braunfels, TX - Platinum

· BryanBearss, Anchorage, AK - WSU

· PatSchue, Wasilla, AK – Mocha

RogersRangers

The official support group of the R Northbound DogsTeam

2011-2012 racing season membership list

· CoastalHelicopters. Juneau, AK

· MarlysSauer, New Braunfels, TX

· Daily'sWeb Design, Chugiak, AK

· BryanBearss, Anchorage, AK

· PatSchue, Wasilla, AK

· MarlysSauer, New Braunfels, TX

· DianeDouglass, Fremont, CA

· MarkAtkins, Bisley, Surrey, UK

· Brent& Dawn Garvin, Mooresville, NC

· Aidian,Bailey, & Cameron Garvin, HighPoint, NC

Names to Whitehorse

To help my fans be part of this effort, I carry thenames of all my sponsors with me during the race. If you feel a sudden chill, you can blame thecold temperatures on the trail J. This is the current list.

· CoastalHelicopters. Juneau, AK

· MarlysSauer, New Braunfels, TX

· Daily'sWeb Design, Chugiak, AK

· BryanBearss, Anchorage, AK

· PatSchue, Wasilla, AK

· MarlysSauer, New Braunfels, TX

· DianeDouglass, Fremont, CA

· MarkAtkins, Bisley, Surrey, UK

· Brent& Dawn Garvin, Mooresville, NC

· Aidian,Bailey, & Cameron Garvin, HighPoint, NC

Allmy sponsorship opportunities are listed here.

My sincere thanks to one and all.

Eric

Basic Iditarod Strategy

2011-11-26T14:55:00.001-09:00

The Iditarod has been described as a chess matchwhere all the players move at once and you can only see your pieces. It is subtle, nuanced, and incrediblycomplex. But given that there are a fewbasic principles that apply.

First you are only as fast as your slowest dog. An example of that was the 1996 Iditarod inKaltag where Jeff King dropped a dog because he worked too hard. Sounds crazy, but because that dog worked sohard he needed extra rest. Jeff couldn’tconvince him to ease off. When the restof the team was ready to leave Kaltag, this dog was still resting. So Jeff left him behind. That was one of many decisions thatcontributed to Jeff’s win that year.

Dropping a dog can help the team go faster. The more dogs in the team the more power youhave. In bad trail conditions and/orhills that might equate to speed. But ona hard fast level trail, once you reach a minimum number to pull the sled(maybe 6 to 8 dogs), it doesn’t make any difference.

Second, if you over run your dogs, they will slowdown. Then they will not recover theirearlier speed during that race. Duringtraining, each dog team negotiates among themselves to come up with a preferredtraveling pace. Something they arecomfortable with and that leaves them some reserves after the long runs themusher puts on them in training. Frequently the musher slows them down even more. The faster you run the harder it is on thebody and the longer a rest you need to recover and maintain that speed.

If you run the dogs further than they are trainedfor, this negotiated speed is too fast. Then the dogs need extra rest to recover. If you cut their rest too to keep up withanother team, they don’t have the reserves they need to maintain thatnegotiated speed and they slow down. Take them over that edge and extra rest at the next stop, even your 24hour rest, will not be enough to get that original speed back. One of the first signs a musher will see isdogs that lose some of their appetite. Ateam where all the dogs eat like wolves is feeling good and ready to keepracing.

Every competitive musher walks a knife edge in hisrun rest cycle. Give the dogs more restthan they need and you leave time on the table (you could have finishedfaster). Don’t give them as much rest asthey need and you slow down and are no longer competitive.

This brings us to the third strategy of therace. The strong teams will try to drawthe slightly weaker teams into keeping up with them and blowing up their dog team. That means driving them hard enough they losethat original speed they had. Then theother team is no longer a threat.

Of course the other side of that is that you mighthave misjudged your team and will blow them up in the effort. It is kind of like a game of “chicken”crossed with “catch me if you can”. Ifyou have a strong team that you have run conservatively (not too fast or long anda little extra rest), that is eating well and feeling righteous, you can cutcorners (rest), pull off long runs (if you’ve trained for that), and dare theother teams to try to follow you. Foreach musher, knowing how fast to run, how long to run at that speed, and howlong to rest your particular dog team after that run is the crux of theproblem. Each team is different. Of course the strengths of the musher playinto this also. Optimizing the run/reststrategy and keeping it optimized as conditions (weather, dogs health, mushershealth, trail surface, etc.) change is one of the real challenges mushers faceon the Iditarod Trail.

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

The joys of fresh straw

2011-11-05T20:42:00.000-08:00

I love these dogs. Pat Schue sponsored us a winters worth of straw (thank you so very much Pat). To celebrate I put fresh straw in all the houses. Rosemary quickly pulled all her straw out onto the snow and then climbed into the house. Thyme had a dozen golf-ball to baseball sized rocks in her house, neatly arranged along the walls. My boots became untied and after I retied them I could only find one glove. Rosemary had very quietly taken the other one and placed it in the far corner of her house to sleep with. But Pilfer took the cake. Yes there is a dog behind that straw wall!
Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

So you want to run Iditarod

2011-11-05T15:09:00.001-08:00

Many peoplepicture Iditarod mushers as extremely tough Neolithic cavemen types who drive ateam of half-wild wolves through sheer force. Others picture superman driving a team of genetically enhanced dogs thatcan leap of tall building in a single bound and pull a heavy sled while runningup a vertical wall of solid ice. Neitherpicture is correct; and that is the true magic and wonder of this race.

Iditarod drivers are normal everydaypeople from all walks of life, who do extra ordinary things with dogs thatrange from exceptional animals like Munch and Solomon to rescues from thepound. Admittedly the pound dogs don’twin, but they get the job done. So let’ssay you want to run this race, what would that take? Not surprisingly, it is a lot like the skillsneeded to live life.

The first thing that comes to mind iswinter dog driving skills. These includehow to care for the dogs, how to care for yourself, how to handle the sled, howto pick good camping spots, how to find shelter when necessary, etc. These are all skills anyone can learn, butthey must be mastered before you try Iditarod. When it is ok, anyone can do it – but when it isn’t…

For example, let’s say that you live ina northern tier state and a good friend from Florida who has never seen snowwants to drive up in January to experience winter. Most of the time that isn’t a problem. The roads are typically bare and dry. You buy a good parka and boots and drive onup. But what if a winter storm buildsand blocks the way. Does your friendhave the winter driving skills to go through that? These are skills that anyone can learn, butthey must be learned to live in the North Country.

The next is much harder. You need to know your limits and the limitsof your team. What can you handle andwhen do you call it quits. This is justas important for veterans as it is for rookies. The first rule of survival is to recognize that you are in a survivalsituation and not just barrel ahead until you and the dogs perish. Just because Lance Mackey went through thecoastal blizzard to Koyuk in 2009 doesn’t mean that you could. In fact, no less than Jeff King turned aroundand went back to Shaktoolik because he didn’t trust his dogs not to quit onthat trail and he didn’t have enough supplies with him to camp and wait out thestorm if they did. Both men made theright decision for their teams. This canbe the toughest part for a rookie to master and may well mean you have toscratch.. In the above example, if youfriend knows enough to stop and wait out a storm they don’t have the skills tohandle (or turn around and go home), then tell them to come on up.

Finally you need coping skills. Not just to fix the things that break oradjust to the things that go wrong, but the dogs feed off the mushers attitudelike you would not believe. They read uslike a book. If we are happy, our dogsare happy. They can be sick, or tired,or injured and not able to perform at the level you desire, but if you canconvince yourself that you and they are winners anyway, they will believeyou.

But if you break your sled, or have todrop a key dog, or somebody passes you with a snowmachine and tears up the trailand you get angry and upset, the dogs will get stressed and not perform at thelevel you know they are capable of. Thenyou get more distressed, and the dogs get more depressed. This vicious cycle continues until you gethappy, or you scratch.

So the answer is that anyone with apositive attitude who is willing to put in the time and effort necessary tolearn the appropriate skills and has the moxie to reach deep inside when thingsget tough and keep a smile on their face can finish this race. It might take more than one shot depending onconditions, but you can do it. Like JodiBailey said “It’s not how often you fall, but how often you get up and canstill smile, that makes you a winner.”

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

Training Adventures

2011-11-01T17:14:00.000-08:00

Do you believe in patterns and portents, or justplain foolish people?

Last Friday was had had some colder weather and the trailswere starting to freeze. Eventually thatwill open all 20 miles of trail, but the first to become runable is a 6 mileout and back with a loop at the end utilizing our 12 mile trail. After running multipleloops on the 5 mile trail to get mileage I couldn’t wait (and there is somepride in being the “first” to open the trail each year). About 3 miles in there are two deep “tanktrap” type holes full of water – about 20 feet long, 8 feet wide (full trailwidth) and maybe 18 inches deep in the ruts. We hit the first and broke through the ice about ½ way across. It was a sudden drop, but the dogs keptpulling and I gassed the quad feeling just a little invincible as we popped upthe other side. The second hole was likethe first and only strengthened that feeling.

On the way back, with the ice already broken, thesecond hole (now the first one hit) was like an amusement park ride – short,sweet and fun. But the other hole… The 18 dogs pulled us just a little left andthe quad slanted 45 degrees to the right. Everything is going well until we hit the broken edge of the ice – about1 inch think – with the right wheel. Deadstop. The left wheels are up on ice onthe bank with the right wheels down deep into the hole. No problem. Drop the quad into granny gear, call the dogs up and watch the wheelsspin on the ice. Hmmm. That wasn’t quite the plan. Wait until the dogs quiet down and put it inreverse – same spinning wheels. Absolutelyno traction. The right foot pad is atwater level, climb off to the left and try to lift the right front tire ontothe ice – of course any physicist should know, the ice is too thin to supportthe weight and breaks leaving me in almost knee deep water. Shoot!

Why not use the winch? Well all the water we’ve splashed on it fortwo weeks has frozen and the cable spool is a block of ice. Next idea. No excuse for it but to stomp the ice in front of the right wheel tobreak it and give me some running room, maybe with a running start… Call the dogs up, gun the quad and almost fly over the handlebars when we hitthe edge. Both left tires spinning onthe ice up on the bank and still no traction. One more idea – get off the quad to reduce the weight and gun the enginestanding beside it. Of course thethrottle is on the right side – the downhill side – where all the wateris. Oh, well. It works and I manage to jump onto the quadas it goes by before the dogs take off and leave me feeling more foolish than Ialready am. It took three days to dryout the quad and my boots.

You would think that taught me a lesson, right? Four more days of below freezing weather andthose holes are frozen enough to just be a pleasant memory. I’ll bet the entire trail system is frozen,just have to be sure there a no trees down across the trail and we can go anywhere. With thoughts of 20 miles loops dancing in myhead, I take the quad to check out the inlet trail. One small tree that Sven (saw) and I makeshort work of, and all the holes in the trail are frozen. Drop down onto the Knik Arm mud flats (theylook great) and 15 feet later the right front tire breaks through the ice. Not a big deal, reverse gear and just as westart to pop up, the left front tire breaks through. Step off to see how bad it is and my rightleg breaks through the soft ice into knee deep black, muddy, cruddy,water. I thawed the winch, but there isnothing to tie to in front of us. Everythree or four feet there is a frozen tussock sticking up just over a foot abovethe water, but the more I move in between them, the more the ice there breaksup. Right now they are just additionalobstacles to forward progress. Find somedowned trees, cut them up with my handy Sven saw, stick them under the wheels,stand in the water like last time and after thirty minutes of hard work, getthe quad turned around and back on dry ground.

Back at the truck I apologize to the dogs, but I’msoaked to the skin from the knees down. No run today. I load the quad inthe trailer and the brakes don’t work. The right chain came loose and broke the rod from the brake foot pedalto the brake. Some days…

A $5 part later and this is just another trainingexercise for all of the overflow the Quest is famous for.

Keep ‘erm Northbound

Eric

2011-2012 R Northbound Dogs Racing Team

2011-10-29T13:41:00.000-08:00

Platinum: sponsored by Marlys Sauer "The Bug". NM, DOB 9/6/02 – Jeff King breeding – Conan xLassen. Platinum has been my “go to”leader for the last 4 years. I call himmy British leader because he is very reserved and proper like a good Britishbutler. He likes affection, but doesn’twant to show it. Platinum has a thinnercoat than most of my dogs and needs a jacket when it gets cold. He has run all 4 Iditarods with me and hasnever been dropped. Platinum came up with a nagging back/hip injury lastDecember that took a long time to heal. He looked good on the glacier this summer, but that injury makes him adoubtful pick for this year’s Quest team.

Klinger: NM, DOB 7/??/06 – Jeff King breeding – Rumba xClaire. Klinger is stepping up to fillPlatinum’s shoes as my “go to” leader. He is a sweet affectionate dog that moves well. Jeff told me that Dave (Jeff’s handler) gottired of Klinger chewing on the gangline, so he moved him into lead – Klingerran 50 miles his first time in lead chasing Jeff’s number 1 team. He was two at the time. This dog is not fazed by anything. I take him to all my presentations andpersonal appearances. The kids swarmedover him and he just nuzzled into them “finally I get the attention Ideserve.” Klinger finished the Iditarodwith me in 2009.

Rosemary:F, DOB 8/18/04 – Jeff King unintentional breeding – Tin (platinum’s brother) xNutmeg. Purchased from Zack Steer in May2006. This girl is something special. She is more outgoing and less timid than hersisters, has that same bright intelligent expression and moves just aspretty. She is all character and a realjoy to have in the house and dog lot. Rosemary has developed into a strong leader in her own right and is challengingKlinger’s for the number one spot. Sheis a poor eater, but we are working on that. She has run three Iditarods with me, finishing in lead in 2008 and 2009.

WSU (Wazoo): NF, DOB 2003 – Jeff Kingbreeding – Salem x Lassen. On loan fromBryan Bearss. This girl is somethingspecial. She is confident, outgoing, andruns lead. She is all character and a realjoy to have in the house, dog lot, and team. Bryan loaned her to Karin Hendrickson for the last couple of years andKarin claims she is an excellent “sleeping bag dog” :-)

Thyme: F, DOB 8/18/04 – Jeff King unintentional breeding –Tin x Nutmeg. Purchased from Zack Steerin April 2006. Thyme is Rosemary’s sister. Zack was selling Thyme because she is not a good eater and he is worriedabout keeping weight on her during the race. I watched Thyme move and fell in love. She is absolutely poetry in motion. She is a little shy and a little small, but gee she moves pretty. Thyme has matured into a nice co-leader,backing up the main leader and helping keep the team speed up. She has run three Iditarods with me,finishing all but 2007 where I scratched.

Mocha: sponsored by Pat Schue. F,DOB 8/18/04 – Jeff King unintentional breeding – Tin x Nutmeg. Mocha is a doll. She is Basil’s niece, and Thyme andRosemary’s sister. She is one of thosedogs that looks at you with puppy eyes and promises to love you forever. Her father is Platinum’s brother Tin. She is well built and moves smoothly. Mocha runs in the front of the team,including lead, but her real strength is as a cheerleader in swing. Mocha has run all 4 Iditarods with me,finishing all but the 2007 race where I scratched.

Pilfer: F, DOB 6/13/2008 – Jeff King breeding –Soloman x Berkeley. Pilfer is across-eyed sweetheart. She moves well,eats eagerly, gets along with everyone and is running lead. She has bonded well with me over the lastyear and is a joy to have on the team.

Beamer: F, DOB 7/31/2009 – Jeff Kingbreeding – Soloman x Shannon. Beamer isa crackerjack that just loves being a sled dog. A friendly, outgoing, long legged running machine. The energy level always increases when I addher to the team. Beamer also runs lead.

Ginger: F,DOB 6/9/06 – Lance Mackey breeding Hansel (Buser) x Rosie (Mackey). Hansel was sired by Martin’s famous leaderLogan and Rosie by Jeff King’s Herbie. She is a little submissive, but driven when you put a harness onher. She bounces her way to the line,jumping all four feet off the ground. Shescreams and has spent several of her first nights here in a kennel in thegarage because she wouldn’t be quiet (Screamer was her greatgrandmother!). But she is absolutelypoetry in motion, drives hard, and runs lead. Ginger finished Iditarod in 2008 and 2009.

Dash:F, DOB 6/18/04 – Jeff King breeding – Rhombus x Tinkle. Dash is Basil’s half sister. Dash is a little shy with strangers, but veryaffectionate with people she knows. Sheis well built and poetry in motion. Sheloves to come to the end of her chain, stand on her rear legs and wave bothfront legs at you – “come on, let’s play!” She is always trying to entice you into a game. Dash runs in the front of the team, frequentlyin lead. She has run all 4 Iditarodswith me, finishing all but the 2007 race when I scratched.

Frodo: M,DOB 5/22/06 – Lance Mackey breeding Zorro x Twiggy. Zorro is Lance’s famous leader / stud andTwiggy is out of old George Attla lines. When I saw the dogs for sale at Lance’s kennel it was like walking intoa candy store, but even in that group, Frodo stood out. He is well built, and almost too intelligent,with a strong personality. Frodo is themost athletic dog in the kennel.

Marvin: M,DOB 2006 – Tim Osmar breeding Scout x Cake. Marvin ran the Tustamena and Goose Bay 120 in 2010, being dropped in theGoose Bay. He is a big, sweet, smoothgaited, hard working boy, about 57 lbs. Marvin runs in the rear of the team and is a joy to have in the team andkennel. He is new to the team (Sept2011) and will definitely be on the “visit school kids” list. Marvin has a thick coat that makes him aprime Quest dog.

Z^2 (Z squared or Z too): F, DOB 2009 – Tim Osmar breeding Pilot x Zambizi. Tim thought she looked exactly like herfamous mother, hence the name. Z-2 hasthose pale blue eyes that betray her Siberian ancestors. She is new to the kennel (Sept 2011), andfairly skittish until I start loading to run, then she cannot get close enough,fast enough. In harness she screams andlunges until we go and pulls like a demon. She runs in the back of the team. Her past experience includes the Jr Iditarod, and I’m expecting greatthings from her.

Basil: NF, DOB 5/??/03 – Jeff Kingbreeding – Brahma x Tinkle. Basil is aninteresting story. At the start and againthe restart for the 2004 Iditarod I was very taken by a small female in JeffKing’s team – I just loved her attitude. That was Tinkle, one of the stars of Jeff’s 2004 team. I asked Jeff if he had any more like her andJeff sold me her daughter, Basil. Thisline throws small feisty females that like to lead and work hard, but don’tnecessarily get along with other females and Basil is all of that. Basil has run 4 Iditarods, finishing allexcept 2007 when I scratched.

Pepper: NM, DOB 5/??/03 – Jeff King breeding – Brahmax Tinkle. Purchased from Rich Corcoranin Sept 2008. Pepper is Basil’slittermate, half brother to Dash, and uncle to Rosemary, Thyme and Mocha. Pepper doesn’t look like much, but boy arelooks deceiving. He is a friendlyoutgoing dog that is very strong and driven to run. I have to harness him dead last because hegets so excited he destroys lines and harnesses. He has a beautiful fast trot that transitionseasily to a lope. He was neutered thisspring to help keep weight on him.

Pepper made it to White Mountain in the 2009 Iditarod beforehis late start training caught up with him.

Worf: NM, DOB5/28/02 – My breeding – Base x Kira (7 of 9’s pup). Worf is a big strong, hardworking wheeldog. He has an interesting story. Worf ran the qualifiers with me in 2004 and5, but didn’t make the team for Iditarod. Bonnie Foster took him to the vet and found he suffered from lowthyroid. We’ve been supplementing forseveral years now and Worf has truly come into his own as a 9 yr old. He spent the summer with me on the glacierand was a solid performer. He has a goodchance to make the Quest team this year.

Dukat: NM, DOB 5/28/02 – My breeding –Base x Kira (7 of 9’s pup). As a pupDukat was not only last when we free ran the pups, but came in long after allthe others. I voted him least likely tobecome a sled dog – he just didn’t seem that interested in running. As a yearling he made the team, but was nothingto brag about. However as a two year oldhe really started coming into his own with a nice smooth fast trot and solidwork ethic. Dukat became a mainstay ofmy team, but injured himself last year and had a hard time on the glacier afterhard days. Dukat has run 4 Iditarods,finishing in 2008, but is questionable for this year’s Quest.

Keiko: NF, DOB 5/28/02 – My breeding – Base x Kira (7 of 9’s pup).. Keiko isWorf and Dukat’s sister. She is a sweet,hard driving girl with the softest, most pet-able coat in the dog lot. Keiko runs anywhere in the team butlead. She has run 3 Iditarods, finishingin 2006 and 2009. Keiko has a naggingback problem that has kept her off the race team for the last 3 years and sheis questionable for this year’s Quest team.

An Epic Quest!

2011-10-16T16:19:00.000-08:00

Guess who lost his mind and signed up for the 2012 Yukon Quest. http://www.yukonquest.com/site/mushers-and-sled-dog-teams/?musher=139 Step aside Don Quixote and let me have a try at those dragons. An Epic Quest for truth, justice, and the American Way begins for R Northbound Dogs at 10 AM February 4^th, 2012. Follow the adventure as we brave severe cold (-60 is not uncommon), glare ice, overflow (frequent and sometimes waist deep or more), winds, blizzards, and all the things the tourist bureau doesn’t want you to know. Friends, family, fans, and mental health practitioners are encouraged to join the team. http://www.rnorthbounddogs.com/Sponsor.htm A good time will be had by all!

Eric

PS The dogs are just as crazy and excited about this opportunity as I am!

Sponsorship opportunities will remain basically the same as they were for the 2009 Iditarod - updated dog lists and sponsorship opportunities will be posted on the website as soon as Theresa has a chance to update them.

Thanks for all your support

Eric

White Mountain to Nome

2011-03-12T21:54:00.002-09:00

Shaktoolik to White Mountain

2011-03-12T21:53:00.002-09:00

Kaltag to Shaktoolik Map

2011-03-12T20:57:00.003-09:00

Willow Tug 300 Finish

2011-03-08T12:35:00.002-09:00

I’ve never had to haul three dogs before. Even two was a challenge. Almost everything has to come out of the sled. Luckily I planned for this and have a large food drop bag to load stuff into, then tie that on the back of the sit down sled where we normally carry straw if we are going to camp. Loading Shelby and Sable, the two best performing leaders, has created a crisis in leadership and I sort through the remaining dogs Dallas listed.

Finally I move Ursus, an 8 yr old female, into lead with Lincoln, a hard charging 2 yr old male. Lincoln has been firmly convinced that there is a female in heat in the team (there is in a team ahead of us) and has bothered all the girls he’s run with so far. He tries that on Ursus and she immediately slaps his face. The second time she does it, Lincoln figures she is serious and settles down to business.

We hit the trail with 9 dogs pulling a very heavy, hard to handle sled. Performance is at an all time low. Luckily this is flat river running, but the trail from Deshka Landing to the Tug Bar has lots of little hills, some quite steep and I don’t want to do that with three dogs in the bag. There is a sign-in safety checkpoint at Deshka Landing, but there isn’t supposed to be a dog drop there. I’ll ask anyway. Otherwise I may very well scratch.

It is getting dark as we come into Deshka Landing – I’m looking for Eagle Quest lodge, pull through the parking lot where I thought it was , but don’t see anyone there. There is no sign (or I don’t see one) and it’s hard to stop on a plowed lot anyway so we keep going down onto the road, then pop up on the roadside trail.. We are quickly running down a power line and I see the turn off to the Willow swamp trail. We’ve missed the checkpoint. I debate maters, but discretion is the better part of valor and I turn the team around one more time.

Back in the parking lot the checkers are standing wondering about the foolish musher who blew through. They didn’t have any warning, you come around a corner and there you are. It took them a couple seconds to come out. Good thing I went back. No I can’t drop a dog there – I was going to scratch then, but it just doesn’t feel right. They help me turn around – I ask them to tell Pat Schue, who is waiting for me at the Tug Bar, that I’m still several hours out and traveling slow.

The Willow Swamp loop has a big kiosk with a map where the trail to the community center comes in. The trail to the Tug Bar goes past this on the loop, turning off later. Ursus is knows the trail to the community center, where we left the truck at the start, is a left turn here and that her foolish musher is just going to have to turn the team around again when he figures that out. It took me 10 minutes of dragging the team back to the loop trail to go to the Tug Bar to convince her that even if I was wrong I was more stubborn than she (but it was real close).

A short way down the trail a little dog head pokes out of the sled bag. Shelby is feeling better. I should probably let all three girls out to relieve themselves (before they do it in my sled). Shelby is using all four legs. I walk her on a leash and she looks fine. I flex the leg and find nothing. My spirits pick up substantially – I haven’t injured Dallas’ dog after all. It looks like she was dehydrated had a Charlie horse. I put her in the team towards the back where I can watch her, reload the other two and we are off.

With 10 dogs pulling and 2 riding, we move faster and the lighter sled handles much better. My spirits lift again, the dogs notice the improvement and they pickup. Pretty soon I’m driving the freight train that I had last night and this is fun again. We cruise through the night just having a ball. Funny how you can go from the top of the world to the bottom and back to the top in under 24 hours, but that is life!

As we get to the Iditarod trail we catch and pass the two mushers that had past us while we were resting. Now I’m feeling even better. I have trouble pulling away from them and start running up all the little hills. Slowly that makes the difference. This is racing, even if it is in the middle of the pack, and by golly it is fun!

Two miles from the finish line I find a team camped in the trail – that’s odd. The musher jumps up and asks if I have a spare headlight – hers broke and she has been camped there two hours. She thought she was 10 miles from the finish and is frustrated with herself to find out it is closer to two. Even in the dark she could have walked her team out in an hour.

We finish at 4:02 in the morning – Pat Schue has been waiting for me since 5 PM – the lady has the patience of a saint and I am very grateful for her help and support – it was wonderful. Later that day I called Jen Seavey to report on the dogs and the race. Jen asked me how I finished and I had to tell her ‘I don’t know. Somewhere in the middle I suppose.” Joe May told me once that the right way to run a race was to get your team to the finish line as fast as you were able. When you get there you look around and if nobody else is there, you won. I may not have won, but I was able to run this race that way and it feels pretty good.

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

PS – we were 12th.

Rohn to Nikolai

2011-03-07T13:41:00.002-09:00

Happy River Steps and Dalzell Gorge

2011-03-07T13:02:00.000-09:00

Willow-Tug 300 Pt 4

2011-03-04T09:38:00.002-09:00

With the fast run last night I give the dogs an extra hour of rest and we leave Yentna at 12:20 PM which means we will be running right through the heat of the day. Even when it’s cold, the dogs’ biorhythms seem to bottom out the afternoon. After a performance like last night most teams slow down, and this one is no exception. We are moving steadily, but not impressively downriver.

There is an island in the Susitna at the mouth of the Yentna River and the left turn into the slough we use to go to Willow is a little tricky. I’ve done it lots of times am not concerned. I’m looking for the super bowl on my walkman, but can’t find it when I notice a trail to the left and figure that must be it. There are a couple of side trails off Kroto slough, but now I’m seeing on to the left that goes up a steep bank – and it is staked. I don’t remember leaving the river/slough until we get to Corral Hill.

Something isn’t right – and Mt. Susitna is on my right. That’s correct for the Yentna, but the angle is wrong. The sun is dead ahead – we are going south. But the Yentna flows east. Maybe I should have taken that turn up the bank after all. But I’m still following Knik 200 stakes (they didn’t run that race this year and used a mix of stakes to mark our trail – including K200 and old K300 plus WT300). Ten minutes later I haven’t seen a stake for a while. It must have been that trail up the bank after all. Turn the team around and try it.

As soon as I come up the bank I know where I am – On the Susitna headed for the Dismal Swamp and Flathorn Lake. Typical rookie mistake – I missed the turn to the Susitna going upstream and wound up going downstream instead. I find a wide spot in the trail and turn the team around for the second time (This is actually the shortest way to the Tug Bar / finish line, but cuts out about 30 miles of trail through Willow – it is tempting to just run to the Tug and scratch, but the dogs are supposed to run 300 miles and I don’t like to quit).

Back on the Susitna there is normally a trail that runs upriver and re-joins the race trail on the north side of the Yentna River mouth. I keep looking, but with the new snow I’m not seeing it. I see another trail to the right (north) and take it, only to watch it smoothly merge into the southbound trail I’d just left. I turn the team around for the third time. The dogs give me a “Are you sure?” look..

Finally I’m way back on the Yentna and see the trail I should have taken – and the turn is well marked. Some yahoo driving the sled just wasn’t paying attention and was counting on his lead dogs too much. We won’t mention any names J.

We are back on then Susitna headed north to Willow, but the three turn arounds, my confusion, and the heat of the day have taken the spark out of the team. Sable, who lead for the first part of the race has had enough and quits. I make room in the sled, tying gear on the back, load her. I call “hike” and Soleil lies down. Ok, I’ll load Soleil also. We are moving down the trail, but the dogs are not really enjoying it. I start to get frustrated and realize my mistakes have added two hours to an already long run that is just too much to ask of this team – there are young dogs here on their first race. I need to keep it fun.

Enough is enough. I pull off to the side of this 50 foot wide trail, set up camp, and fix the team a nice hot meal. Dallas always brings his leaders back to the sled to rest to tell them they are off duty. As I lead Shelby (one of his main girls) back she is a three legged dog, not using her right rear leg. Shoot! Now I’ve injured one of Dallas’ main leaders and have three dogs haul. The old self-esteem meter drops into the basement and the fun meter follows quickly. The two teams that pass while we are resting don’t help that any. I had not intended to be competitive, but I was looking forward to finishing Sunday night and getting a good night’s sleep. Now it looks like Monday morning.

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

Willow-Tug 300 Pt 3

2011-03-01T16:31:00.000-09:00

Brrrr. It is 3:30 AM and it’s chilly outside. I laid down for 3 hours at Yentna, but didn’t sleep. But this is a race and it’s time to get ready to go. Pry myself off the foldout recliner bed (real luxury at a checkpoint), get dressed and venture into the night. The dog lot is a hot bed of activity as mushers come off their mandatory 6 hour rest and prepare to leave. The thermometer on my sled reads -20, so much for the forecast -10 for tonight! I finish booting the dogs and hear a shout. Lots of activity by the outgoing trail, but I can’t tell what is happening.

In this race we must check in and out of each checkpoint. There was a checker here a minute ago, but now I can’t find one. I walk down to the tent “checkpoint” and both checkers are holding a dog team without a musher in sight. So that was the excitement. Some poor guy hooking up had his team run off without him. Luckily they stopped it before it ran to Skwentna! One of the checkers comes back to sign me out and help me find a way around the other dog team without exciting them so they pull the hook again, while the musher waits out his mandatory rest. Of course that means threading our way through the other teams that are still resting here. Never a dull moment.

With the new snow, the trail up the river is still pretty much in a trench about 4 feet wide. Passing will still be an issue. Temperatures are holding at -20 with clear skies and too many stars to count. Every now and then the Northern Lights come out faintly on the horizon. The dogs quickly settle into a nice Iditarod trot and we cruise smoothly down the trail. Most of the way to Skwentna a freight train comes barreling out of the night and passes us head on – the lead team in the race. Later I found out it was Bob Bundtzen on his way to his first win – he sure looked good.

A few more passes and we reach Skwentna, go up the Yentna River, cut across past the roadhouse and airport and onto the Skwentna River in front of Joe and Norma Delia’s, then downriver and back to Yentna – the first time. I promised the dogs a nice rest at Skwentna, but can’t find a place to pull off the trail with the deep snow. We had got stick behind another tangle near the airport, and by the time they cleared it (two teams), my team had lost steam. About 30 minutes later I found a side snowmachine track, turned the team onto it, fired up the cooker, and settled into a the 3 hour rest I had promised them.

The trip back to Yentna was uneventful. But the snowmachine traffic going up river was incredible. It looked like they were making snowmachines in Anchorage and shipping the entire lot to Skwentna in one day. There were no passing problems; everyone was blasting through the fresh snow and having a ball. By the time I got back to Yentna, out 4 foot wide trail was more like 300 feet wide.

We parked in the same spot we had last night and had another bale of straw on top of the first one. For 12 dogs this was pure luxury. After caring for the dogs I went back to the lodge – this time sleeping (or unsuccessfully trying) on the floor. But it was warm. When I left home the forecast was to cloud up and warm up on Saturday. It stayed clear and beautiful, and now they tell us it will be colder than last night!

I’m up at 8:30 PM, but have trouble really getting motivated. It’s -20 and dropping down on the river so I dig out the foxtails and belly wraps to protect sensitive spots from frostbite. With all the putzing around I’m 45 minutes late getting out, but we are not trying to be competitive and that’s ok.

We move up the river and the night sky is more beautiful than even last night. The cold clear air shows more stars and the lights come and go in fascinating displays. The dogs seem to feel it and are pumped for this run. I keep slowing them down, but they insist on a fast, smooth 10 mph trot – very different from the previous run. Teams are like that. When they feel righteous, they are very impressive. We fly through the night and I wish for a couple of hills to run up to generate some warmth. In no time at all we are through Skwentna and headed back to Yentna. This time I only stop for 20 minutes to snack and let them blow off steam.

About 3 AM we hit the witching hour and my lack of sleep catches up with me. Every time I blink or yawn I fall asleep for a few seconds – the fear is that sleep may not be the only thing falling. Several times I jerk awake just as I start to slip off the sled. The dogs run fast, but time slows to a crawl. I check my watch and it’s 3:15 AM. Half an hour later I check again and it’s 3:20 AM. I’m torn between admiration for the dogs and exhaustion. Luckily we have several more head to head passes to help keep me awake. We pull in at 5:15 Sunday morning and this time I’m tired enough I do get an hour of sleep.

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Willow-Tug 300 pt 2

2011-02-21T15:34:00.001-09:00

One of the things I love about racing sled dog is that life gets real simple. It is arduous, but you only have to worry about getting to the next checkpoint with healthy, happy dogs. The mortgage, credit cards, health issues, and any family problems all go away for the duration of the race. The Willow-Tug was no different. I had run all these trails before and while I knew some better than others, there were no problem areas here. I quickly relaxed and the dogs settled into a nice pace. The trail ran gently through the trees in the Nancy Lake State Park down to Big Lake to the old Iditarod race trail. Four hours later we arrived at Flathorn Lake and pulled off for a planned three hour camp.

I had intended to stop on the other side of Flathorn, but this spot was sunny and I thought the dogs would enjoy it. Job one was to spread out straw and get the dogs resting, then take booties off and feed them a light meal using the hot water in the cooler. Then fix those darned chewed tug lines.

The Seavey double tree system has a spreader bar on the gangline that makes the tugs run straight back from the dogs harness. That means you can run shorter tug lines and shorten the entire gangline. To make that work you have a loop in the tug to fasten to the gangline, then pass it through a hole on the spreader bar, with a knot in the line on both sides to keep it from slipping too far, to another loop that connects to the harness. My tugs are longer with a loop in each end. That meant I had to undo one loop to get an end that would pass through the spreader bar hole, tie the two overhand knots and a knot or two to adjust the length, then make a loop at the end. Do this twice and check my watch to see how much longer to rest.

Just time for a snack for me, bootie the dogs and we were off again. It was 30 minutes later when I realized I had misread my watch and we only rested 2 hours instead of three. I apologized to the dogs, promised them more rest on the next loop, and vowed to double check any more time calculations!

Fifteen years ago on my first trip over this trail, the drop onto the Susitna River took me by surprise. It was almost 15 nearly vertical feet. My leader gleefully plunged over the side and by the time I saw it and got the sled stopped, she was standing on the river while my swing dogs and first team dogs were leaning against the wall mostly suspended by their harnesses. There was no cure but to plunge over the side and follow them. It was a lot like falling. I’ve done this drop many times since then, some better and some worse depending on how low the river was when it froze and how much snow the trailbreakers had to build a ramp, but that first memory was always there. This year was pretty mild.

Martin Buser was traveling the trail by snowmachine, mostly in the back of the pack, to mentor potential Iditarod rookies using this race as a qualifier. As we crossed the Susitna to go up the old Rabbit Lake trail (where Susan Butcher was stomped by a moose in 1985) Martin went past us pulling a large trailer sled. The ramp up off the river on the other side was a twin to the one we had just come down. Martin gunned the machine but it stalled half-way up. He tried to back down, but the trailer runners were designed to go forward and got stuck. He is completely blocking the trail, and apologized to me – got off the sled and tried to pull it sideways, he finally had to unhook it and I helped him pull it off to the side. As I went past him I smiled – I mean how often does a back of the pack musher like me, driving a dog team in a race, get to pass Martin Buser. Martin just laughed and said it probably wouldn’t be the last time in this race – and he was right! He is a great guy.

We had a heavy dump of snow the week before the race, resulting in deep unpacked snow and overflow at the planned half-way point. At the start they told us they couldn’t get there from here and were re-routing the trail. Rather than go to TalVista lodge (by back trails to make up the miles), we would loop from Yentna to Skwentna and back twice.

The Rabbit Lake Trail had about 5 feet of snow on the ground and was trenched deep enough that the dogs couldn’t see over the edge much of the way. Martin calls that “trench warfare” – it make passing extremely difficult and stopping for any reason is sure to build a traffic jam.

Sure enough about half-way to Eagle Song Lodge we hit a jam. Some poor driver up ahead was having problems and 4 teams were stuck behind him. Martin tried to swing around us and stuck the snowmachine and trailer again. When we finally got passed the lead team, we saw cupid had been the problem all along. There was a girl in heat, an unplanned mating and it took 30 minutes to clear – poor guy had his team off into the snow at the side of the trail and if God hadn’t made his legs meet in the middle he would still be sinking.

The rest of the run to Yentna was a beautiful trip under clear skies and dropping temperatures. The forecast before we left was a low of -10 F Friday night, warming up Saturday to +30 F with Saturday night getting down to +15. I debated my light bibs and parka in those warm temperatures, but at the last minute decided not to risk it and wore my heavy gear. Boy was I glad – it was pushing -20 F on the Yentna as I finished my chores and walked up to the lodge to find a place to sleep and wait out our mandatory 6 hour rest.

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Willow Tug 300 Part 1

2011-02-20T15:38:00.000-09:00

When I was in college, the night before final exams I would have nightmares about having registered for a class and forgotten all about it until that night. Sometime it was so real I would get up and check my schedule to reassure myself.

The 2011 Willow Tug 300 started much like that. I used to be able to put a 300 mile race together at the drop of a hat, but it had been two years and I had a definite feeling I was forgetting something essential – like dogs or a sled?

Dallas Seavey called me a week before the race and asked if I would run a team for him while he was doing the Yukon Quest. He had some dogs he wanted available for the Iditarod – dogs that could do 1 one thousand mile race, but not 2 – and some young dogs that needed race experience. Since he was paying the bills (and being broke was the only reason I wasn’t racing my team this year) I said sure. I asked Pat Schue, another Texas transplant, if she would help me get started and meet me at the finish line, and she was wonderful!

Pat and I drove up to Willow to get the dogs getting there in the dark. Jen had left our 12 dogs in three rows and I asked Pat to load them while I got the other stuff we needed. Ready to go, I count the dogs in the truck and come up with 11. Pat counts them, only 11 dogs. I look at the three lines of houses – no dogs. Check the truck – nobody is hiding. I walk down the line of houses – sure enough, Lucky, a female wheel dog, is lying in her house sound asleep (or faking it well). Convincing Lucky that she really does want to run, I load her and we are off. Is this an omen?

Race day dawned clear and cold, a beautiful day for running dogs. The race started at 10 AM, I was bib number 20. With 2 minutes between mushers I easily came up with a 10:18 start time (I do have a Ph. D. In Physics no less!). I packed the sled while Pat dropped dogs and started getting them ready. Watching time closely, I feared we were running just a little late and started to push. The team ahead of me was hooking up and we were not done booting. Push just a little bit harder and we had everybody in line ready to go a 10:15 – Whew.

But the 18th place team hadn’t left yet. Hmmm. Check my watch – it is 10:20 and they still hadn’t left. The starters must be running a little late. Watch the dogs closely and it dawns on me that 20 times 2 = 40, not 20 and my start time is 10:38! Oh, well – we are ready. Pat and I visit a little. At 10:30 I notice Soleil in swing, was on her neckline. The snap on her tug must have come loose – walk up there and Roadie had chewed through Soleil’s tug line. For some funny reason Dallas uses the Seavey double tree system where the tug goes through a spreader on the gangline and isn’t easily replaced. And I have no spares! Now what? Grab my conventional spare tug out of my sled, tie a knot in it to make it shorter and promise Soleil to fix it later. Then notice a chewed neckline. Replace that only to see another chewed tug line on Roadie. Oops! Run back to the truck, starting to sweat a little, and strip 4 tug lines off my gangline section. Replace Roadie’s tug with another straight tug with a knot to make the distance right and find two more chewed necklines. That is the last of my spare necklines from Jen, grab some of mine, run back to the sled and the timer says “go” – what an auspicious start to a three hundred mile race! :-)

Eric

On the trail again

2011-01-28T14:39:00.001-09:00

Dallas Seavey asked me to run some of the dogs he isn't taking to the quest in the new Willow-Tug race next weekend. We will be camping, not competitive because we will have a lot of young dogs, but it should be fun. I've still got my team but can't afford to race them, so I really appreciate this opportunity. You can follow us here

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Graveyard of Dreams part 2

2010-07-10T13:54:00.000-08:00

I finally got to read Carig Medred’s book and it has caused me to do lot of soul searching about my motives for running the race.

Craig is a friend of mine. His background is reporting and I believe that he honestly and sympathetically reported the stories the mushers involved told him. I get mentioned and he has all the important facts correct. So what is it about this basic “Graveyard of Dreams” idea that bothers me so?

Craig leads off with Lance Mackey’s story. A true “underdog overcomes tremendous obstacles to achieve incredible success” story if there ever was one. Danny Seavey was a rookie with Lance in 2001. He tells me that Lance’s skills and organization were so poor the other rookies voted Lance the musher “most likely to die on the trail”. Then he adds “look where Lance has gone since then.” Instead of killing Lance’s dream, his bout with cancer, the Iditarod, and his dogs honed him into a worldwide success story and inspiration to us all.

Look at Martin Buser. He is another musher that started on a shoestring and sacrificed much to continue to run Iditarod. It took Martin 9 races before he finally won. Now look at him. How about Dee Dee Jonrowe? She has run 28 races and never won. She scratched twice – the race video shows her in tears in 1999 when her team quit on the Yukon River. Yet Dee Dee is the one of the best known and most respected people in entire state of Alaska. Look at Karen Ramstead. Karen has never been competitive and never will be, but she in known and respected wherever mushers, Siberian fanciers, and Iditarod fans gather.

Jeff King said the Iditarod reveals your very soul. It forces you to look deep inside yourself and see what is truly important to you and what isn’t. St. Thomas Aquinas says “The magnanimous person has the courage to seek out what is great and become worthy of it.” I believe that Iditarod takes ordinary people, and tests them in fire. It forces them to look deep inside themselves and decide how much they are willing to sacrifice to achieve their goals. Those that are willing to keep trying and pay the price are transformed into heroes, inspirations, and role models to inspire the rest of us to chase our own dreams and goals.

Gold is tested in fire to burn off the dross and reveal the beauty underneath. That is not an easy or pleasant process to go through, but that is what I believe Iditarod does for those who love it.

Eric

Graveyard of Dreams by Craig Medred

2010-05-29T13:16:00.000-08:00

I have very mixed emotions about this book and am interested in what everyone else thinks. Of course, not having read it yet, I could be way off base - but the title bothers me and indicates an approach to life / attitude that I think is incorrect.

The Iditarod is an emotional roller coaster. You go from the highest highs to the lowest lows of your entire life. Life on the trail is very arduous, but very simple. Your only task is to get to the next checkpoint and repeat that process until you get to Nome. Sometimes things stop you - just like life gets in the way of plans you make in the outside world - but that doesn't kill the dream until you decide not to get up and try again. And even if you don't decide to come back to Iditarod, that doesn't mean the dream is dead, just that you have changed your priorities and will chase another dream instead. Something else is more important. But that is a choice we make internally, not something imposed upon us by external forces.

I have to admit, in my second race, halfway between Ophir and Iditarod, when I broke the second runner off my sled and sat there with an injured shoulder, a broken leg (not the weight bearing bone so I could still walk), a frostbit toe, and a badly broken sled, that I spent a very depressing few minutes feeling sorry for myself. But I had 15 dogs and myself to care for and a whole life to live. The priorities quickly became what to do next - how to take care of ourselves until help (the trail sweeps) arrived. Within the hour I was making plans to come back and run Iditarod again the next year.

I don't want to diminish those who choose not to come back. I got a Ph D intending to be a professor at a university. When I graduated there were not enough jobs and I decided it was more important to take care of my family than to chase that dream any longer. The dream never died, it just moved down the priority list because other things I dreamed (good life for wife and kids) were more important. I took my degree to industry and spent 11 wonderful years working for Shell Oil. That was not a loss imposed by outside circumstances, but a conscious decision based upon my values in response to conditions at that time. I never regretted that decision. It was true to my core beliefs.

I guess I feel that if finishing the Iditarod is really important to you, then get up, dust off your wounded pride and try again. Lot's of people do. If you decide that it isn't worth the effort (or that the cost - financial, social, and psychological - is too high), then thank God for the experience and growth in self-knowledge (what is really important to you and what isn't), discover what is at the top of your "to do" list and get after it. But please don't blame the Iditarod (or life) for decisions you should be making.

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Dealing with squirrels

2010-04-27T12:06:00.000-08:00

There were five houses of religion in a small town: A Presbyterian Church, A Baptist Church, A Methodist Church, A Catholic Church, and A Jewish Synagogue. Each was overrun with squirrels.

One day, the Presbyterian Church called a meeting to decide what to do about the squirrels. After much prayer and consideration they determined that the squirrels were pre-destined to be there and they shouldn't interfere with God's divine will.

In the Baptist Church the squirrels had taken up habitation in the baptistery. The deacons met and decided to put a cover on the baptistery and drown the squirrels in it. The squirrels escaped somehow and there were twice as many there the next week.

The Methodist Church got together and decided that they were not in a position to harm any of God's creatures. So, they humanely trapped the squirrels and set them free a few miles outside of town. Three days later, the squirrels were back.

The Catholic Church decided to baptize the squirrels and registered them as parishioners. Now they only see them on Christmas, and Easter.

But the Jewish Synagogue took the cake. It seems they took one squirrel, had a short service called circumcision, and they haven't seen a squirrel on the property since.

Lycos

2010-04-15T17:28:00.000-08:00

Lycos is a one of my main leaders. I had had him tethered just inside the gate from the back yard to the dog lot. That meant he was fed first, loaded first, and got attention every time I entered or left the dog lot.

Lycos injured his foot several weeks ago and is laid off until next fall. But being laid off, I had to move him to the puppy pen every time I ran the team to get the other dogs past him. After a week of that I finally moved him down between Dash and Ginger, into a bigger, more comfortable house with a post tether rather than a stump so it moves easier.

Last week I decided to move Lycos to the back yard to run loose with Java and Dijon (cousins) and to bring him into the house for company. He seemed to enjoy it and be settling in well.

A couple of nights ago we had a big windstorm. The next morning I open the back door to feed. Java and Dijon were right there as usual, but not Lycos. Now what? Put Java and Dijon in the kitchen. Call Lycos – nothing. Check the gate to the back yard – it’s closed. I pray he isn’t hurt or trapped somewhere. Walk out and call him again and he answers – from his old house!

The wind blew the gate from the back yard to the dog lot open and Lycos is standing on top of his old house looking at me. That silly dog would rather be tethered where he had lived for years rather than run loose in the back yard and come into the house – to the point where he didn’t even leave for breakfast.

My next thought, as I face foreclosure and possible bankruptcy, is that I might be doing the same thing. Clinging to the comfortable known where we have lived for 18 years, rather than take a chance that God has something better in store on the other side of this storm. Food for thought, eh?

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

foreclosure

2010-03-04T07:57:00.000-09:00

Sorry to have been so quiet. Our house is in active foreclosure with the sale at auction set for May 20th. We've been pretty busy looking for work, alternative ways to make money (sponsorships, etc) and training the dogs hoping for a miracle so I could run this year's Iditarod.

If you know of a cheap place to rent in Alaska where I can keep a dog team with power and running water please let me know. Kind thoughts and prayers are always appreciated.

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Another interesting day

2009-12-23T11:51:00.000-09:00

I’ve been running the dogs with my sled since December 1st. The trails were marginal and I split the team in two for safety. That means a 20 mile run for the dogs is a 40 mile run for the musher. We got a lot of snow the 15th and 16th and yesterday I decided it was safe to get my good sled out and run a single team. As long as we didn’t have a tree down across the trail I was good. Some day I’ll learn not to tempt fate.

Sixteen strong dogs that had not run over 34 miles for three weeks were loaded and ready for bear. Sure enough an hour into the run on the back side of the trail system where the snow had not been well packed yet there was a small tree down. The lead six dogs had crossed over it by the time I saw it. Set both snowhooks firmly and remover the tree with my trusty sven saw. As I walked back to the sled Mocha (in lead) decided she had waited long enough, gave a sharp tug and popped both hooks. I grabbed the sled as it went by and it rolled over. The dogs drug me and pulled the sled out of my hands. I watched one of the snowhooks catch on something and the line holding it to the gangline broke under the impact. There I stand with a snowhook in one hand and my saw in the other watching the team run merrily away.

This is a musher’s worst nightmare. It is like turning a group of five year olds loose in the woods. By the time you catch up with them there have been fights, tangles, dog being drug, slammed into trees, and heaven only knows. None of this is good and I feared for the safety of my dogs. We were outbound on a five mile loop and I walked through the woods to the inbound side and started walking to intercept them, trying to think positive thoughts. Thirty minutes later here they come, Platinum in lead (but he was three back we they left me) and a ball of dogs wheel. I caught the sled and rolled it again looking for the one remaining snowhook. It was caught upside down in the drag. The dogs drug me, then stopped. Try to free the hook with one hand and hold the sled with the other. The dogs drug me again. Repeat several times with language getting choicer each time. Finally get the bright idea to sit on the sled and use two hands– now the hook is free and set. Rig the second hook to the snub line and set it. Say a prayer they hold and start untangling dogs.

Worf is on his back with the gangline wrapped around a rear leg. I can’t get enough slack undo it. Walk up the team undoing tug lines. Platinum and Blaze are missing! Platinum’s neckline is broken – and his tug line loose – he must have kept going when I stopped the team. Blaze’s collar is there, but the tug is loose. No idea where she is. Deal with Worf first – still can’t get enough slack. Back to Mocha and Rosemary in lead, bring them back and tie off to a tree. Now I can get Worf loose – he seems ok. Frodo is also wrapped, but on his feet. Get him free. Undo the tangle; start hooking up dogs praying the hooks hold so I can look for Platinum. Just as I’m ready to leave, Platinum come walking back. Hook him in and look for Blaze – she is either fine and going back to the truck, or hurt along the trail and can’t join us. Still trying to think positive thoughts, I’m going to redo this 5 mile loop first just in case.

Almost back to where I caught the sled I see Blaze lying down in the trail with a pool of red under her. No! No, it is her red harness, but she isn’t moving as the lead dogs pass. Stop the steam, set the hooks firmly and say a prayer they hold and that Blaze is ok. As I walk up I call her and she gets up. Whew. She seems fine. Put her collar and harness back – she is moving ok, so I put her back in the team. By now I’m soaked in sweat and feel like I’ve been drug the 20 miles we done. Cut this one short and go home. No idea what happened, but Worf broke the line at the end of his harness, Platinum broke his neckline and his tug came loose, and Blaze shucked her collar, her tug came loose and she shucked her harness. At home I saw Throttle and a long tear on the side of her face. Staple her back together. A good stiff drink and a night’s sleep and we are off to do it again.

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Bass (think music not fish)

2009-12-18T18:54:00.002-09:00

Sled dogs are known for having great hearts. In my kennel Bass set the standard. He was a Susan Butcher bred dog out of her Granite lines. Jeff King bought a whole dog team in Nome just to get Bass and his brother Alto for to add to his bloodline. Jeff sold me Bass in Dec 2001 when I called looking for a leader to run my qualifying races. I’ve never made a better purchase. Bass was never a fast dog and like a kid he would test you to see what he could get away with. With a new musher he would go left when you called gee, stop on the hills to pee, and come back to flirt with all the girls in the team every time you stopped. But there was no quit anywhere in him, and if you explained that you knew what a good lead dog should do, and that you knew that he knew, he was great. If I had to take a rescue team into hell, Bass was the dog I’d chose to lead. The only question he would ask is what trail I wanted to take.

My rookie Iditarod Bass and Lycos lead me over Rainy Pass in the blizzard. When we got to Rohn that night they closed the trail behind us, holding the remaining mushers at Rainy until morning. On the Yukon River the other rookie teams I was traveling near said their teams stopped on the river and they were not sure they would get to the next checkpoint, let alone Nome. Bass just kept plugging away. When we left Unalakleet in strong cross winds and nobody would lead with him, Bass ran single lead the rest of the way to Nome. When the storm over Topkot was so bad I had to stop every 20 minutes and clear the snow and ice from his eyes so he could see, Bass kept going. When we stopped on top of a knoll and the wind blew the sled off the trail, Bass lead us around and back onto the trail. When a lesser dog would have just quit, Bass lowered his head and put one foot in front of the other. We might be slow, but by golly we were going to get there.

Bass died in my arms this afternoon. He had been in gradually failing health for over a week. He was my friend, my companion, my lead dog. RIP big guy.

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Snow

2009-12-16T14:04:00.003-09:00

Snow!

My intrepid lead dog, Platinum

Say What!

Throttle the hopeful

2009-12-12T14:03:00.007-09:00

Went out to pick up dog dishes after breakfast and Bowie's dish is missing. This isn't odd, "Bowie the bored", plays with her no tip dish and it slides downhill to 7 of 9. But not this time, check under 7's house - no joy. OK, keep going downhill and check under Throttle's house. No Joy, but wait. "Throttle the ever hopeful" has been looking for the magic dish that automatically refills. She picked up Bowie's no tip dish, carried it into her house and set it right side up in the corner. Now she is lying there watching and waiting for the miracle :-)

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Throttle

No Iditarod in 2010

2009-12-01T07:07:00.001-09:00

Iditarod entries closed last night and I am sorry to tell you that R Northbound Dogs will not be going to Nome this year. Finances do not permit it. I was hoping for a miracle like last year, but God must have something else in mind .

I have been applying for full time work with the Federal Government (they are less likely to tell me I'm too old), and have a job interview with Minerals Management Service (they are responsible for the Federal oil and gas lease sales) this Thursday. Please say a prayer for us.

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Sisco

2009-10-16T13:36:00.001-08:00

One of the hard things about owing dogs is that they live so much shorter than we do. Sisco was in the last litter born in my kennel on May 28th 2002. His father was Bass, my all time best leader, and his mother was Kira, my best small girl who is now living with Bonnie. Sisco was part of the team as I transitioned from recreation to Iditarod. He has run every race I've ever run. A strong honest wheel / team dog. He was a good companion, a true friend, and an honest dog.

Just before the 2009 Iditarod he came down with an auto-immune disease in his eyes. We got it under control, thanks to a great vet, and he finished that race with me (his second finish). Today, after a week long bout with increasing nausea and declining health, he was diagnosed with organ failure with no real chance of recovery. I had him put down at 12:30 Friday 10/16/09. I already miss him.

May he rest in God's peace.

Eric

Klinger

2009-09-29T18:35:00.002-08:00

Jeff King sold me Klinger last December because he was tired of dealing with his chewing. Klinger was a perfect gentleman last season, even running Iditarod without destroying anything. This season has been a different story. Two harnesses and a dozen necklines later I decided to get serious. I like a product called Bitter Apple – tastes terrible, is non-toxic and doesn’t stain. Spray it on something and most dogs won’t touch it. Most dogs…

Yesterday Klinger started on a neckline. I sprayed the Bitter Apple straight into his mouth to give him a good taste of the stuff and create a strong aversion to it in his head. Then I soaked the lines. Not a minute later he was chewing on the neckline again. Repeat – spray into mouth to create aversion - it works, he really doesn’t like this - then soak the neckline again. Not a minute later he is chewing the neckline again – with just the tips of his front teeth so he doesn’t get the stuff in his mouth.

To heck with “Who’s smarter than a fifth grader”, who is smarter than a sled dog!?!

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

Rosemary

2009-09-28T19:11:00.003-08:00

Rosemary got loose at the track the other day and ran down the trail. She didn’t even bat an eye when I called her name. I had 15 dogs out of a 19 dog team hooked to the quad. Finish hooking up the team and go after her, right? I grabbed Klinger and he had chewed through his harness. Find another harness; change them out, hook up Klinger. Grab the next dog, yell at Klinger. Hook up the next dog, yell at Klinger. Same process for the last two dogs (No I couldn’t leave them behind – they were my leaders…).

Start off down the two mile trail looking for Rosemary, who now had a 5 minute head start. After ½ hour Rosemary comes running up from behind us (we are doing laps on the 2 mile). She slides into position behind swing and runs with the team. I let them establish that pattern and after a few minutes call “whoa”. Rosemary slows, then runs between the leaders and continues down the trail. Call the team up and chase her, but running loose she easily outdistances us. I use the “gee-haw” trail to turn the team around and start running backwards on the trail. Almost an hour since she ran off, I see Rosemary coming down the trail towards us. Slam on the brakes. Jump off the quad. Grab Rosemary as she runs past. Hold her as she tries to keep going. Finally put her back into the team and finish the run.

Whew! Don’t you just love dogs.

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

Some days are just like that.

2009-09-24T14:53:00.000-08:00

The runs have gotten longer and it just doesn’t make sense to run two 10 dog teams any more. For the last week I’ve been running a single 20 dog string. The power is awesome! Wednesday dawned cool and damp – it was literally freezing when we got to the track. Everything was wet from the rain the night before. First time it’s been under 40 when we ran and the dogs were pumped, even after running Monday and Tuesday. They started screaming with 14 dogs on the line and by the time I had all 20 hooked up they were foaming at the mouth and throwing clods of dirt into the air. When I released the snub line it felt like I’d been kicked.

About a mile into the run the dogs had almost settled down when we came around a corner and there was a huge cow moose standing across the trail 50 feet in front of my leaders. I slammed on the brakes, locked up all 4 wheels and started to skid on the mud. The moose looked up at me and wondered off into the woods. Whoa. Whoa. I’m trying to stop the team and give the moose time to get away. The dogs pay me no more attention than they do the occasional spider web across the trail. I finally give up, get off the brake, call the team up and get out of there. On the way back I see 30 feet of skid marks. Thank heaven that was a nice moose.

Five miles later there is a branch down across the trail. I stop the team and get off to remove it. Just then they surge and start to pull the 4-wheeler with the brakes locked. They pull the quad part way up the side of the trail and it rolls over. I’m running up making unkind comments and begging for cooperation. Catch them and roll the quad back. Minor damage – the speedometer housing is broken and the throttle level sheared off. The bad news is it isn’t my quad, but one I borrow from a friend on the days she isn’t using it to train my team. Luckily she is a very good friend and very understanding. Now I’m looking for Yamaha parts.

Eric

Basil and the Rabbit

2009-09-21T20:32:00.001-08:00

The dogs in the back lot were fussing tonight. Something was out there. I looked, but couldn’t see anything. I grabbed the water bucket and started checking that all the dogs had water for the night. Basil was nervous, pacing around the north side of her circle, looking out towards the woods. Sure enough there was a very bedraggled small grey rabbit stuck in the fence barely within Basil’s reach – inside the dog lot. I couldn’t tell if Basil was curious or concerned. Back in the house to get a heavy coat and gloves (rabbits bite and claw), then back to the rabbit. I reached down and as soon as I touched it, the rabbit screamed and tried to run through the fence. It’s head was firmly trapped in the chicken wire mesh behind the farm wire fence. Basil came over to consult. The rabbit tried to push out with both hind feet. Yep, it’s head was truly caught. With me there to protect her, Basil came up for a closer look – sticking her head under my arm. Back in the house to get wire cutters. Outside, Basil was consulting again, crowding up for a closer look. I found the critical wire behind the rabbit’s head, carefully cut it and not the rabbit, which screamed and bounded off without so much as a thank you. Basil gave it one of those “that will show you” looks and settled down for a long fall nap.

New Dog Truck Signs

2009-08-20T17:01:00.003-08:00

A friend of mine (Louder than Words) made these signs for my dog truck to help promote my kennel and demo his business. Cool, eh?

First day of fall training

2009-08-14T16:59:00.002-08:00

I forgot what it was like to move 1,000 lbs of wild, crazy, squirming, frantic dog 4 times in the dark, rain, and mud. Ugh. Finally got to bed at 4 AM. Got to love the first day of fall training.

I’m grateful to even be training. I broke the frame on my quad last January – saved enough money to buy another used one and had to spend it to pay the mortgage (wives are funny about things like that). Bonnie Foster loaned me her machine until she needs it to train her own team – thank you Bonnie. Something will come together, it always does, but until then I’m so broke I can’t afford to pay attention. :-)

I’ve been feeding once a day in the morning, so the dogs didn’t get fed after the run last night because they had already eaten. I didn’t feed them this morning because I’ll feed after we run tonight. Normally they would be objecting telling me how I’m starving them, but at 5 PM they are curled up sleeping off last night’s exercise. One more run tonight and they’ll get two days off.

Stay tuned

Eric

Lost Dog is Found

2009-07-22T16:45:00.002-08:00

Keiko is a 7 yr old female, born in my kennel, who has run 3 Iditarods with me. She is a little skittish and can be a little shy with people she doesn’t know, but loves me. I placed her with a girl that wanted a dog and wanted to learn to mush. They are good people, but not really knowledgeable about dogs. The next day she slipped her collar and ran off. Of course they chased her trying to catch her and she just ran harder.

Keiko was seen the following day trying to cross a busy street. She looked frenzied, darting first one way and then the other. She tried to go back to the new house, but one of the younger children saw her, hollered “Keiko” and started after her. Off she went again. Then she wasn’t seen for three days. After that she was spotted several times, but always moving, and gone by the time I got there.

After 7 days on the loose, she was spotted bedded down under some trees, and was still there when I arrived. I gently called her name, clicked my tongue, coaxed and slowly walked up to her. At 10 feet I hit her discomfort zone. She sat up and I froze and dropped to squat on one knee. I gently called her again. She stood and looked around, then started to move away. I called one more and she paused, then walked off into the woods. I left my shirt with some liver treats near her nest hoping she would come back.

Four hours later I came back and she had returned. This time I stopped 20 feet out, dropped to a squat and called her. She stood, started towards me, and then backed away. I called again and tried to coax her in, but she was too nervous. I got the bag of liver treats and shook them. Her ears came up and she focused on the bag. Slowly she walked towards me, crawling the last bit and dropping in submission inches from my knee. I gently reached out to pet her and she almost climbed into my lap. I slipped a new collar on her, tightened it and gave her the liver treats. She was so hungry she almost ate the bag.

Eric

Evil Escapades in Eagle River

2009-07-02T11:05:00.004-08:00

Last Tuesday we (my dogs and sled) were invited to be part of an old time melodrama "Evil Escapades in Eagle River". You can check us out at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QGLaDXB4PM4 and http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NyR4mnjKI_s&NR=1

There is more information on the show at http://www.akfinearts.org/id12.html

Enjoy

Eric

The Dalton Highway

2009-05-28T17:15:00.019-08:00

Late May is a good time to drive the Dalton Highway. South of the Brooks Range it is spring, north of the range it is late winter to early spring. That means the bugs haven't are not there yet! The road is good by dirt road standards, and about 25% of it has been paved or chip sealed. There are some sections of road damage, both paved and not. Take it easy and you'll have no problems. Princess and Holland even run tour buses to Deadhorse.

It is 240 miles from Coldfoot to Deadhorse with no services in between. That is the longest run. Gas was $3.70 / gal, about $1 more than Anchorage. Carry your food for the whole trip with you. There is a store in Deadhorse, but it caters to the workers there. They all have access to cafeterias to eat, so there are no staples, only snack items.

Beautiful country, lots of critters (far more north of the Brooks Range than I had ever seen in the state before), and friendly people. We saw Moose, Caribou, Squirrles, Dall Sheep, Red Fox, Musk Ox, Snow Geese, Loons, Ducks (I think some Eiders), Tundra Swans, Trumpter Swans, an owl, a golden Eagle, Bald Eagles, Ptarmigan, and a Crane.

Only one adventure. The Subaru has two switches to turn on the parking lights. I bumped one that I didn't know about and left the parking lights on. With the midnight sun I never knew until we had a dead battery at Galbraith Lake. Luckily there was another camper there who gave us a jump.

I always thought the Arctic was a cool place. With clear skies the midnight sun was relentless, beating down on us 24 hours a day. We slept in the back of the Subaru and it was impossible to stay in bed past 7 AM. The poor car went from plesantly cool to ovcn. Guarenteed to wake even me.

I hope you enjoy the pictures.

Eric

Unimproved BLM campground just north of the Yukon River where we spent our first night. There is an outhouse just out of sight, but little else.

There is only one reason for a trash can like this. It is very furry and much larger than we are. I really wanted to see a bear on this trip, but preferred it to be from the car while we were driving :-)

This bridge over the Yukon River carries both the pipeline and the Dalton Highway.

Early bloom on Finger Mountain

Finger Rock on Finger Mountain is a famous landmark that points the way to Fairbanks. It was used by early bush pilots as well as nomadic hunters.

The Arctic Circle stop on the Dalton Hwy

Looking north from the stop on the Arctic Circle

Grayling Lake on the Dalton Hwy.

The post office at Wiseman Alaska.

Sukakpak Mountain, a landmark south of the Brooks Range seen from the south.

From the Brooks Range to Deadhorse, AK

2009-05-28T13:02:00.042-08:00

The Chandalar Shelf, the headwaters of the Chandalar River is mile long plain on the south side of Atigun Pass.

Glacial carved cirque near the top of Atigun Pass

Dall Sheep on Atigun Pass.

Overflow (water flowing over ice) on the West fork of the North fork of the Chandalar River flowing south down Atigun Pass.

One of the peaks that surround Atigun Pass on the Dalton Highway.

Red fox running across the tundra north of the Brooks Range.

The road to Galbraith Lake. That is a small stream flowing across the road. When we drove in the night before it was deeper :-)

The view from Galbraith Lake campground on the North side of the Brooks Range.

The north side of the Brooks Range catching the light from the "setting" midnight sun.

Hill north of the Brooks Range catching the light of the midnight sum.

Franklin Bluffs on the Sagavanirktok River south of Deadhorse

Caribou running on the tundra south of Deadhorse

Snow Geese on the tundra south of Deadhorse

Tundra Swans on a backwater of the Sagavanirktok River at Deadhorse

Sagavanirktok River at Deadhorse Alaska

Musk Ox grazing at Prudhoe Bay. Taken from inside the tour bus.

Frozen Prudhoe Bay (Arctic Ocean) looking north from East Dock. This is the end of the Prudhoe Bay tour.

White Mountain to Nome

2009-05-21T16:33:00.005-08:00

We got into White Mountain at 9:46 PM. I know this is a race, but I’ve already missed the goals I set for myself. Motivation to push to Nome is sorely lacking. This feels like a tough training run. Mike Suprenaut and Trent Herbst feel pretty much the same. As long as we don’t come in last, it is ok. Rather than leave at 5 AM we decide to get some sleep and get up at 5. Trent is efficient and leaves just after 7 AM. Even with all the extra rest we’ve had on the coast I’m just not there.

As I’m getting ready to leave I decide to drop Keiko and Pepper. They could finish, but they were starting to get tired coming into White Mountain. I had to slow the team to accommodate them (you are only as fast as your slowest dog). If I leave them here, they should have better memories of the trip for next year. At 8:47 Tim Hunt, the current red lantern, arrives in White Mountain to start his mandatory 8 hour rest. That finally get’s my attention. I shift into high gear and leave 20 minutes later.

The wind is still blowing, but after the last few days it is more a annoying than a real threat. We come off Fish River and cut across some low country with sparse vegetation. A flock of Ptarmigan flush out of the brush. This is the first time I’ve seen them anywhere besides Rainy Pass. Pretty cool. We cross a low spot where the brush is thick enough to break the wind. I stop for a short break and snack the dogs before going over on. The run over the Topkot is windy, but nothing like my rookie year where we got blown off the trail when I stopped. I don’t even pause at the shelter cabin at the base of the hills where we holed up in 2006.

The blowhole is alive and well, the wind coming strongly from right to left. I’m swapping Platinum and Blaze in lead as first one and then the other gets tired of fighting the wind. Finally Platinum breaks out and the worst is over. We run along the beach and pick up a road with mile markers about 30 miles from Nome. This is the first time I’ve done this part of the trail in the daylight and it’s nice to actually see the country. I’m almost to Safety when a red fox runs across the trail in front of the team. Amazing! This is the first wild mammal I’ve seen on the trail (except for a couple shrews) in four Iditarods. We pull in and out of Safety about 3:30 PM.

We go over Cape Nome about 10 miles out of town, the last climb of the race. I stop just before the crest to talk to the dogs. This has been a tough race, but I have mixed emotions about finishing it. It will be nice to finally get out of the wind, but I’m going to miss the time on the trail with the dogs. With my feet and hands feeling the effects of the cold, I probably will not recover in time to run them again this season. These are good dogs. They worked hard. It might not have been pretty, but we made it! I take some time to tell how much I appreciate what they have done.

WE come down off Cape Nome and shortly pick up the KNOM spotter car. As we get closer they sound the siren to announce our arrival. I remember my first race, telling Bass that siren was for him. This time it was a team effort. I sure missed Bass going into that wind on the Yukon.

It is about 6 PM, school is out and people are off work. There are families walking on the ice, kids sledding down the inclines. Everyone waves and shouts congratulations. This is my first daytime finish and it’s pretty neat. We come up off the ice, onto Front Street and pick up our police escort. I can see the arch in the distance. Platinum and Rosemary drive down the street like the veterans they are. The team looks good – like they are ready to keep going. Then I pass under the arch in 50th place and it’s all over.

Marti is still here, along with my sister Penny and nephew Adam. They were supposed to leave Sunday, but got caught when they cancelled flights for the volcano. This is a real treat. Ten hours later Tim Hunt crosses the finish line and Iditarod 2009 is history.

It is obvious the run from Grayling to Eagle Island was the turning point for my race. It might not be as evident, but it really changed when I spent Sunday night in Grayling because of the weather, rather than pressing on through the storm. Before then I was racing, after making that decision and giving 14 hours to my competitors, I never quite got back into race mode. In hindsight it was the right thing to do. My leaders stalled the next morning. I had to follow Tim and Rachael into Eagle Island. But for me it changed the race into an expedition. I tried to rejoin the race in Kaltag with the long run to Unalakleet, but blew it when I went out to dinner and took a long rest there. The wind going into Shaktoolik was the final straw, dehydrating the dogs and mandating longer rests on the coast to keep going.

The good news is that I learned a lot from this race. We were not that far from moving up into the 30’s. If I had strong storm leaders we would have pushed into Eagle Island Sunday night. That is a training issue. If I had worked harder to get the dogs to eat at the beginning of the race, rather than counting on their appetite to kick in later, they would have had more reserves on the coast and we would not have had to rest as long. I think that is all it would have taken. Next year I’ll find out if I’m right. :-)

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

Iditarod to Grayling

2009-05-13T10:10:00.005-08:00

Tumble out of bed and stumble outside. Brrrr. Baby it is cold out there. It was a clear starry sky when I went to bed and I know that means it will cool off, but I’m dropping things and the thought never entered my mind. The thermometer on the sled says -24, one of the volunteers say it was -32 earlier. I regret not putting coats on the dogs when I bedded them down last night. I could put the coats on now, but the day is will get much warmer as the sun comes up.

For years I’ve heard stories about the hills on this next section of trail. Words like “never ending” and “enough to drive a tired man insane” ring through my mind. Hills are not our forte, but this is the road to Nome and at 10:40 AM we hit the trail. The trail leaving Iditarod is hard, fast and worn down into the snow. It reminds me of a luge run as the sled bumps off one side and then the other. We come around a corner and the sled slides forward heading straight for a tree. At the last moment the wheel dogs hit the end of their tugs and jerk the sled around the corner, just missing the tree. It’s actually kind of fun.

As we left Iditarod I swapped Platinum and Mocha into lead to give Blaze and Thyme, who have done yeoman’s duty, a break. That lasts about ½ hour. I move Rosemary up for Mocha and we get another ½ hour. I don’t know what the problem is, but move Thyme back into lead and off we go. That girl is having a great race.

This is rolling country and swoon we start to hit the hills (actually a series of ridges). The bottoms are forested and the combination of green trees against the blue sky with the white snow underneath is absolutely beautiful. The first few are fairly steep, but the dogs do well. As we continue to Shageluk the ridges get broader and the sides are not as steep. I’m enjoying this run and I think the dogs are also.

A couple of ravens follow us. One lands in the trail in front of the dogs. He waits until Platinum’s nose almost touches him before he flies off to a tree beside the trail. I swear he laughs as we go past. Then he flies ahead to repeat the process. He does this a half dozen times before another raven comes by and they fly off to find new amusement.

At the driver’s meeting we were told that after the trail breakers put the trail into Iditarod it snowed 2 feet and they had to re-stake it. It must have made an impression because many of the trail lath on this section are placed in trees between 4 and 6 feet off the ground. It looks pretty silly and took me a while to figure out what was going on.

I’m spending a lot of time driving the sled, horsing it around corners and working on the downhills so I don’t lose control. I’m working up a pretty good sweat, even at -20. I break out my prescription hand cream and it’s frozen inside my pocket. Funny how one part is sweating and the other is cold. About halfway to Shageluk we cross the Big Yentna river – a broad flat valley. I enjoy the break, but miss the views from the ridge tops.

All good things must come to an end and just before 7 PM we pull into Shageluk. The dogs are feeling good and root through the remnants of straw from previous teams looking for something to eat. I quickly put two cups of dry kibble down for them to eat while I fix a hot meal. Platinum takes his nose and pushes straw over the kibble to bury it for later. He looks so silly I laugh, but skipping an opportunity to eat is a bad thing. I fix a hot broth with salmon, add kibble and everyone eats. This time I put coats on the dogs before settling in for the night.

Brrring! Brrring! What is that obnoxious sound! I’m trying to sleep here. It takes a while to realize that is my alarm. Maybe I’m not as sharp as I think I am… I get another good meal down the dogs and at 4:46 AM we leave for Anvik. I had wanted to be out by 3:00 AM, but fixing the dogs a meal and packing the sled takes a lot longer than it should.

I’d heard the trail to Anvik went through the swamps and was pretty boring. This is actually a nice run through the trees. Then we drop onto a river and it is cold! Brrrrr. I stop to dig out an extra layer. Dukat hasn’t been pulling since we left Iditarod. I thought the long rest in Shageluk would make the difference, but he just isn’t feeling well. I was going to drop him in Grayling, but as we go through Anvik I see no reason for him to run another 18 miles.

Anvik is bigger than I thought and we drive through the village for several minutes before reaching the checkpoint. Art Church, a friend of mine, is the race judge and has everything organized. He hands me my lithium batteries (specially delivered to Anvik and 3 other checkpoints because you cannot mail them), take Dukat and we are gone before most people even know we are there.

The Yukon River is large and flat. It can be a little intimidating, but the short run to Grayling is uneventful. There is no hint of the adventures to come.

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Takotna to Iditarod

2009-05-07T18:19:00.001-08:00

Timing is everything. I finished taking care of the dogs and got something to eat. With the crowd in the checkpoint, sleeping space (in the library) was at a premium. I was just about to wrap around a corner when Sebastian came in. Being one of the first to arrive, he had a primo spot half under a desk in the office. He was leaving and I got his place. Sweet.

During my 24 I got 12 hours of sleep, three good meals, and put 4 solid meals down the dogs. Before I left, we got word that Lance was in Iditarod having taken less than 10 hours from Ophir. So much for the concerns about a bad trail. Andy Anderson, the race judge in Takotna, looked at me and said, with a grin, that a couple of hundred mile runs would put me right in the thick of things. He said one year Doug Swingley ran from Takotna to Iditarod, then a shorter run to Shageluk, then ran all the way to Eagle Island. Wow!

It has been snowing lightly the whole time we are in Takotna, with the high right around 32 degrees. Everything got soaked with the wet snow, and now it’s all frozen – sled bag zippers, snaps, the works. It takes me an extra ½ hour to get ready to go. We leave the warm bed and hospitality with reluctance, but the dogs and I are eager to get back on the trail. We sign out at 1:22 AM (14 minutes late). It is a shame to run this beautiful trail at night. You leave on a road that climbs past gorgeous summer homes with sweeping panoramic views of the Kuskoquim valley. It looks more like the Anchorage hillside, than the middle of bush Alaska. We drop down the back side and run mining roads into Ophir. It’s funny to see bridges out here with weight limit signs. I tell Throttle to step lightly or I’ll have to put her on a diet J.

We pull into Ophir at 4:30 AM. I grab my bags, load the entire freeze bag (with dog and people snacks) on the back of the sled, then pull some extra kibble out of my number one bag and throw it in the sled just in case the trail doesn’t hold up to the traffic ahead of me and is slower than I expect. I can’t forget that in 2007 it took the last group of mushers 38 hours to go from Ophir to Iditarod. At 4:51 we are back on the trail, Blaze and Thyme still in lead.

The trail is in great shape. We run through the hills at night and get to Beaver Flats just at sunrise. I find the creek crossing were I got my feet wet in 2007, but can’t be sure I’ve got the place where I broke my leg. We arrive at Don’s Cabin at 10:15 AM and I settle into the routine of fixing the dogs (and me) a meal. I promised Will Peterson (who led the trail sweeps 2 years ago) that I wouldn’t go into the cabin. He remembers the night we shared that cabin as one of the coldest he’s spent. The cabin looks a little the worse for another 2 years wear anyway. The plywood over one window is missing and was replaced with a couple of 2x4’s. I sleep outside with the dogs and do fine. Just before I doze off, the insider folks come by and interview me .

I’m still doing equal run rest (I’m planning on that until Kaltag, then cutting rest to move up), so we leave after 9 hours at 5:50 PM. I’m estimating Iditarod at 1 AM. There is supposed to be a water hazard 10 miles up the trail, so I don’t bootie the dogs leaving Don’s. When we get there, it is a creek crossing that I recognize from 2007, somewhat interesting, but well frozen and covered in snow.

With good snow pack, the trail to Iditarod is pretty routine. Just before we get there we drop onto another stream. The trail obviously goes right (downstream), but both Blaze and Thyme turn left. “Gee”. Blaze turns right, but Thyme (and Platinum in swing) pulls her back to the left. Strange! I think I see tracks going upstream. Maybe they are following someone else that went that way. I have to bring Thyme around by hand, but when she sees the other trail she agrees to go downstream.

We get into Iditarod at 40 minutes after midnight. In the dark I can’t see much of the old ghost town. They park us on the river and I ask if there is a hole to get water. Nope, the water here isn’t safe due to all the mining. We will need to melt snow. I’m planning to leave at 7 AM, deciding to cut rest a little since we are so slow, but the vets say the dogs are thin and suggest I give them extra rest. Everyone eats, but I wish they ate a little more. Kevin, the race judge comes out to coach me a little and tells me to go through the trash pile and see if I can find something the dogs will eat. I spend a couple of hours tempting them with one treat after another and get most of the dogs to eat a little extra.

The Iditarod Official Finishers Club built a heated cabin here for the mushers to sleep in. Pretty sweet. I wonder in, claim a bunk (just 2x4s and plywood but it’s off the wet floor), and look around. There is a race update tacked to the wall – this is service with a smile. I check it and Lance is in Elim. Wait a minute, he was less than 24 hours ahead of me in Takotna. How could he be in Elim already? My head is starting to spin when I notice the update is from the 2007 raceJ.

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Nikolai to Takotna

2009-04-30T13:13:00.001-08:00

I like Nikolai. The people that live there go all out. They bring you your straw and drop bags. They have a big barrel of hot water for the dogs. They keep a full set of tools at the checkpoint and have rebuilt more sleds (damaged crossing the Alaska Range), than I can count (the previous two years, mine was one of them). They open the school with a warm, quiet, dark, dry room to sleep in, a dryer for your soaked gear, running water, flush toilets, a microwave, a big coffee pot, a big Tang cooler and during the day they open the kitchen and cook for you. Life hasn’t been this good since we left home Sunday morning J .

I get breakfast, a nap, and lunch and head back to the dogs. This is the first time I’ve cut rest, running 10:53 to get here from Rohn and only resting 8:53. My plan is to run through to Takotna and take my 24 to make it up.

It has been warm enough I take my fleece top off and get ready to go in my t-shirt and thermal top. The dogs eat a nice breakfast. Their stools look good. Rosemary even gets up off the straw so I can bootie her. The team is coming together and I’m feeling good. At 2:18 PM we are back on the trail. I’ve still got Blaze and Thyme in lead and they are doing well.

The trail from Nikolai to McGrath is like a vacation. We are portaging across swamps and wooded areas as we cut off loops on the South Fork of the Kuskoquim River. The trail is heavily traveled by the local people. It is well established with a good base. The top of the trail is a little soft and keeps the speed down. I can almost take a nap.

At the driver’s meeting we were warned about a record number of moose in the area, but I see no wildlife. I’m grateful because with the deep snow, many moose will not get off the trail. We do pass an Idita-sport walker and then a biker (and people think we are strange to do the trail by dog team). Dukat isn’t feeling well and hasn’t been pulling since we left Nikolai. I guess it is intestinal and give him some metronidazole. Within an hour he is back to work.

About an hour out of McGrath there are two snowmachines pulling sleds stuck hard in overflow. There is about 3 feet of snow on the frozen river. The bottom ½ is saturated with water with good snow on top. If you don’t stop you can go through the bad section and never know it is there. For some reason they stopped and sank into the saturated layer and now the water is freezing around the snowmachines. Not a nice situation. There is no warning until you start to sink into it. The dogs go around the stuck machines and we are fine. When I get to McGrath I tell the officials about the snowmachines – they captured that on insider.

I shipped my extra supplies to 24 to McGrath, figuring I could haul them to Takotna if I changed my mind. This way I could 24 at either location. Takotna wins the debate. The volunteers lead me and the team around the back to my drop bags, I grab everything I need (I packed with that in mind) and strap it on the back of the sled. For three years we have taken our 24 in McGrath. I wonder how the dogs will adapt to leaving without a rest. No problem. We swing around the building and drop onto the river without a second thought. We may not be fast, but this really is a nice team. I stop, tell the dogs how proud I am, and reward them with frozen beef from the drop bags.

Another short, easy scenic run and we pull into Takotna just before 1 AM. I am the 34^th musher to arrive and the 32^nd to 24 here. It is so crowded we have to park in the overflow area. Martin Buser and Jim Lanier have gone on to Ophir but that is it. Nobody wants to break trail to Iditarod. At the drivers meeting we heard horror stories about the trail breakers taking over 3 days on snowmachine. There was talk about needing snowshoes to break out the trail through the deep snow. No one is looking forward to that.

From my perspective it’s pretty cool. All the front runners are here – Sebastian comes over to congratulate me. Jeff King says “hi” as he walks by. Ramey Smyth comes by. I’m parked next to Dee Dee, and I see Lance in the checkpoint. I’ve never seen the front of the pack on the trail before. Then it hits me. If I kept going just 25 more miles to Ophir to 24 I would be in 3^rd place! It’s not real, just an artifact of run/rest schedules, but I would frame that update sheet and hang it on the wall ;-). Reality sets in, the dogs have run far enough and deserve their rest, and Takotna has better amenities than Ophir, but man oh man…

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Rohn to Nikolai

2009-04-25T17:04:00.000-08:00

Rohn is a small BLM cabin set in one of the prettiest locations on the trail. There was supposed to be a heated sleeping tent for the mushers this year, but it didn’t make the trip. Trying to sleep in one of the four bunks in the only cabin while the vets, checkers, communications guys, and the race judge take care of business is an exercise in insomnia. But it is warm and dry and my gear, hung from the rafters, dries a little more. It took us 5 hours to get to Rohn, and I give the dogs a full 6 hours of rest, pulling the hook at 6:33 PM so I can get through the gnarly sections of the trail in the daylight.

A couple of minutes through the trees and we drop onto the South Fork of the Kuskoquim River. We travel on bare ice, cross a gravel bar, a little snow, more ice, some dirt and we’ve made it to the other side. Four years ago the crossing was a big event, now it is just a typical day on the trail.

I pass Laura Daugereau and Tom Thurston when they stop for something and they follow me for a while. Then we hit the Post River Glacier. It’s normally just frozen seeps climbing a hill with a large rock on the right, but this year the whole side is glaciated and it’s a major obstacle. Blaze and Thyme try to go around it to the right (where the trail went last year), but this year’s trail crosses to the left side and goes up there. Laura and Tom pass as I lead Blaze and Thyme back to the trail. We climb up the side, following them.

We hit the higher ground and all the snow has been blown off the unprotected sections. The brake is useless and the drag only a little better. The sled pulls easily on the frozen ground. Tom and Laura are out of sight, but the dogs can smell them and are in full chase mode, running hard. Here comes the 4 foot tall dirt mound that gave everyone trouble last year. The wind is blowing the sled off the trail and we hit it at an angle, running flat out. This is going to hurt! I’m flying through the air praying hard and fast, land on the runners and stay upright. Thank You! We continue down the trail faster than ever “easy. e a s y”. The dogs run harder – they must have a sense of humor.

The wind is blowing hard from the left. We cross a large stream on glare ice and the sled weather vanes about 45 degrees to the dogs, pulling the wheel dogs to the right. Here comes the steam bank, just a 6 inch lip, but we’re moving sideways. Bang! We go up and over and land on the runners again. Hans Gatt builds a good sled. In Nikolai Mike Suprenaut tells me he hit this just like I did, went airborne, landed on his hip and the sled landed on top of him. His hip really hurt. Bjornar Andersen got hurt bad enough in this section he scratched in Takotna.

There is snow in the trees, taming the downhills and the sharp corners. I get the team back under control, none the worse for wear. Press on. We come to a stream with a large horseshoe bend. The ice must be bad because the trail goes upstream some distance, then swings across, and comes on the other side. Blaze misses the turn completely and keeps going upstream. Nothing I can do until she runs out of river at the top of the horseshoe and pulls the sled onto the snow. She wraps the team in the brush before she stops. Hmmm….

I can tell the dogs are getting tired. They are tangling more, which seldom happens when they feel good. Sisco throws up, then Dukat. The heat and hard pulling where there is snow is getting to them. I’m sure the fast chase didn’t help either.

We drop down to Farewell Lake and are officially across the Alaska Range. The lake is glare ice and the wind blows the sled off the trail again. Half the team is pulled right. The dogs strive mightily to keep us on track. With a sigh of relief we make it across the lake and back to snow. We are in rolling country with good snow covering the trail. I’m pretty beat and realize I’ve been horsing the sled around sharp corners, up and down hills, around obstacles and generally trying to avoid crashing since we left the Old Skwentna Roadhouse. There hasn’t been a lot of time to sit down and relax. I snack the dogs and look forward to easier trails.

Bison Camp is halfway between Rohn and Nikolai, sheltered from the wind in the last “hollow” before we hit the flats. John Runkle uses it as a spike camp when he guides Bison hunters, but opens it to all travelers during Iditarod. He isn’t there, but left tents and a supply of firewood. We get in just before midnight. There are 4 teams parked on the left of the trail (the camp side) but room on the right. I’m debating camping, but the dogs have recovered and look pretty good. The alternatives are to camp at Sullivan Creek, where there is a bridge over the open water, or the Salmon River fish camp, a favorite of Martin’s. Or we could go all the way to Nikolai, about another 5 ½ hours. While I’m debating, the dogs surge into their harnesses and we are off again.

At 2 AM we cross the bridge over Sullivan Creek. I’ve emptied my drink cooler and stop to get some cold water from the creek – good stuff! Add some tang to the cooler and off we go. We blow through the fish camp and the dogs seem to be getting stronger with every mile. Finally we are back on the Kuskoquim River and the dogs lope into Nikolai at 5:30 AM. Even the checker is impressed – “You were really moving out there”. I don’t know what it is, but my team always comes into Nikolai like that.

I’ve had one 4 ½ hour nap in the last three days. Guess what I’m looking forward to :-).

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Finger Lake to Rohn

2009-04-22T14:58:00.002-08:00

We are into Finger Lake at 5:41PM and I stay just long enough for the vets to check Pepper after his close encounter with the tree (he is fine). We leave at 5:53 PM and I’m proud of the way the dogs go through the third checkpoint in a row.

This is where the trail starts to get interesting. We are climbing into the Alaska Range, from 980 feet at Finger Lake we will climb to 3160 feet as we crest Rainy Pass. This is deep snow country and it looks like there is 15 feet or so on the ground. As we come around corners or go down hills there are ruts cut into the trail by the teams ahead of us. It is about 10 miles from Finger Lake to the Steps and I can’t help getting a little anxious as we drive north. I haven’t slept since we got up Sunday morning and that doesn’t help. At least I’m not running a fresh team leaving the checkpoint.

Rosemary and Thyme in lead drop down and disappear. I’m on the brake in anticipation. Big drop, maybe 20 feet, nearly vertical – over 60 degrees. It’s pretty chewed up and the dogs are struggling to run down the hill. I can’t control the sled. Too steep. Can’t slow down. The brush bow is inches from Sisco and Dukat in wheel. I roll the sled on its side in the soft snow so I don’t hit my wheel dogs. Whew! What a mess. I’ve only had to do that once before in 15 year driving dogs. Catch my breath, check the dogs – everyone is ok – straighten the sled and we are off to the next challenge (the steps are still ahead).

Not a mile down the trail we hit another big drop, this one is only 15 feet, but I’m still shaky from the last one and I can’t stay upright. Man!

I dodge trees and stumps for another mile and there is the entrance to the infamous steps. The trail turns sharply left around a large tree and the whole world drops away. A long steep run, hanging on for all I’m worth, trying to stay calm “easy… easy” so the dogs don’t take that as the command to run flat out. We make the flat platform at the end of the first step, 180 degree horseshoe turn to the right and down we go again. It levels a little in the middle (this is where the disaster cams set up and catch the sleds barrel rolling into the tree – I did that in 2006), climbs a small rise and drops completely out from under you (the trench shots from the 2008 video were taken here), then eases some, makes about a 120 degree sharp left turn and drops onto Happy River. Yes! We made it! I stop to catch my breath and record my thoughts. My voice is shaky. Whew.

We go down Happy River to the Skwentna River, run up the Skwentna a little, turn up a small drainage and climb back up. The first 10 feet or so are nearly vertical as we climb up the bank of the river. A camera crew set up here and captures us. The dogs scramble up, pause as the sled (and I) hit the steep part, and then pull us over the top on command. I am so proud of them – they show the dogs on the 2^nd Versus episode.

The run to Finnbear Lake is interesting, but doesn’t compare with what we did to get here. I planned to camp at the hospitality stop here, but I’m soaked from perspiration and snow (it is still snowing lightly) and just beat from the trail and lack of sleep. The dogs are doing OK. There is a cabin (Ok, a shack) with heat and bunk beds (Ok, wooden platforms) for the mushers at Rainy Pass. It means a longer run for the dogs – I’m estimating 8 hours – but I think they are up to it (and I get a warm dry place to sleep).

We pull into Rainy at 10:28 PM after 8 ½ hours. It was a tough trail through the trees after Finnbear. It took a lot out of the dogs. They look pretty beat and don’t eat well. Maybe I made a mistake, or maybe they are echoing my feelings. Either way I’ll give them a good 8 to 9 hour rest. I get 4 ½ hours sleep in the heated shack and feel like a new man. My gear didn’t have time to completely dry, but it is better than nothing. My parka sleeves freeze while I care for the dogs and I can hardly get my hands into them. At 8:47 AM we pull the hook and head for Rainy Pass and The Dalzell Gorge.

It is snowing as we go over the pass, but for the first time in four years the wind isn’t blowing. Very nice by comparison. They told us it took about 3 days to put in the trail from Rohn to the pass. As we come down the backside I can see why. We are in thick brush, about 2” diameter stuff coming at us from all sides. Where the trail has worn into the snow, it even comes up from underneath. The dogs are dodging the big stuff, but getting smacked by the smaller branches. This isn’t fun for anyone. The weather is warm and the sugar snow is like walking in beach sand. There are wallows from previous teams and the dogs work hard to make any progress. There is a long downhill run and the dogs can’t go faster than a walk the whole way down.

We run through the trees and brush in the middle section, then drop into the gorge itself. The disaster cam set up to catch teams going over a narrow ice bridge with great ice formation on the canyon wall behind us. The dogs shy at the cameras and I have to stop and untangle them, but we make it over fine. The 2^nd Versus episode shows us crossing the bridge in a nice shot.

The rest of the George is interesting, taking corners on glare ice, dodging open water, crossing over on snow / ice / log bridges, but it can’t compare to what we’ve already done. We drop out of the gorge onto the Tatina River. In 2006 and 2008 the Tatina was glare ice, in 1007 it was snow covered and sweet. This year, after all the talk of deep snow, it is a mix, but the trail breakers managed to put the trail on the little bits of snow that were there.

Tuesday at 12:15 PM we pull into Rohn for a well deserved rest. The dogs are tired and go to sleep in the ½ hour it takes me to get a meal fixed. Nobody wants to get up and eat. I come back at 2:15 and offer it again, but nobody eats enough. I’ve got to find a solution to this problem.

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Anchorage to Finger Lake

2009-04-20T12:40:00.001-08:00

The Anchorage start is just plain fun. It is all for the fans, and Barnum and Bailey couldn’t put on a better show. My Idita-rider was Dorothy Hamill, a friend of Susan Butcher who Dave Monson brought up for the dedication ceremonies that weekend. Iditarod chose me to give her a ride, pretty cool, eh? We were mobbed by the media, and Dorothy had to leave us early to be at the Providence ceremony at 1PM, but we had some time to visit and get a couple of photos. She is a very gracious lady. We dropped her off as we crossed Lake Otis, about a half hour into the ride. Dorothy missed Bonnie rolling the tag sled into the crowd by the Native Hospital (it made the Sunday paper though). What a trip. It was a little different starting so far back. We still had to be on the Avenue before 8:30, but didn’t start until almost noon. When we finally got home, I missed those two hours to do chores before mass Saturday afternoon. But it all worked out.

The re-start in Willow is different. This one counts. Dorothy’s commitments were over and she made a point of looking us up and visiting for a while. Starting 60^th, I enjoyed having the extra time to get everything ready. I’ve done this enough now, that it was just running through the routine. I can’t believe how relaxed I am (or at least I think I am J ). Before I knew it, we are in the chute and leaving for Nome. Just me, the dogs, a thousand miles of beautiful country, and a week and a half of adventure. Life gets very simple on the trail and I’m looking forward to it.

The early part of the trail is filled with blazing bonfires and people cheering us on. Last year one group offered me a beer, but I was the designated driver and had to turn them down. I pass one slow moving team fairly early and then it gets quiet. There are large crowds at the major points on the trail, like the entrance to Kroto Slough and where we leave the slough for the Yentna River, but it is getting late and some of the folks in between have left for home. At some camps, only the bonfire remains. The last three years there was a steady string of faster teams passing us, but now there are times when I can’t see another team. We have the whole river to ourselves, just like a training run. I can feel the dogs relaxing and settling into a rhythm. There is an inch of unpacked snow on the trail making it slower and harder pulling for the dogs, but I want them to go slower at the start, and all is good.

We go through Yentna at 7:51PM, and even Yentna is quieter than usual. Most teams have already gone through. I hand off my bib, sign some posters, grab a half bale of straw and 7 minutes later am back on the trail. My plan is to go another hour before we stop. This back of the pack start begins to appeal to me.

You are supposed to get off the trail to camp, but I’m post holing in the deep soft snow everytime I try. The trail is about 50 feet wide and I pull as far to the right side as I can, thinking it will be enough (The trail is marked down the middle of the river). We stop at 9:05 PM, right on schedule. Just as we settle in to sleep, teams that rested in Yentna start to pass and everyone is running of the far right side of the river – right where I camped. I feel bad about being in their way and don’t get any sleep. Pepper is playing Dr Destructo, so I took his harness and the tug lines in front of him off when we stopped. Good idea – he chewed on the gangline (cable reinforced). Frodo decided it looked like fun so he ate through the tug on his harness. I tie it back together and at 2AM, still on schedule, we are off again.

Two hours later we are in Skwentna. I grab food and gear from my drop bags for two camps (no drop bags at Finger Lake), straw and heat (fuel for the cooker) and we are gone at 4:33 AM. Blaze has some trouble with the outgoing trail and tries to park the team, then swings clear around to go back to Willow. A volunteer leads her to the correct trail (Thanks!) and we are off. It is warm (20?) and snowing lightly. I’m not wearing all my gear, but I’m still sweating heavily from even this little bit of exercise.

The trail goes down the Skwentna River and shortly leaves to run through the swamps. This is our first exposure to the “road less traveled”. The soft snow is deep enough the runners drop and my feet ride on the snow. I almost lose my balance. Interesting.

Just over an hour later we cross the Skwentna river at the old Skwentna Roadhouse and start to climb. We were here three weeks ago and this trail wasn’t in yet. I can see the difference immediately. We are wallowing through deep snow with craters as we climb through the trees. Everyone is working hard when Pepper catches his harness on a small stump, breaks his neckline and is drug backwards. Jump on the brake. Stop the team. Pepper’s tugline is stretched tight, but all the tension is in line and the harness, not the dog. I stopped just in time. Pepper has a dazed look, the harness is ruined – the whole breastplate is blown apart. It is quite a chore to get the harness loose, particularly with Pepper in it and the rest of the team screaming to go, but I eventually I manage. Pepper seems fine. Because he chews so much I’m carrying two spare harnesses in his size.

The trail continues to be slow going in the soft snow. As we pull onto One Stone Lake there is a hospitality stop. Someone set up a heated tent and packed a parking spot for the dogs, but I’m thinking to slow and by the time I recognize it in the early morning light we are past. The dogs are getting tired and at 8:15 AM I pull off the trail onto a side snowmachine track and camp. The dogs settle in to sleep before I get a meal fixed and don’t eat well. Last year it was Nikolai when they really started to eat, so I’m not happy, but not as concerned as I might be. It is still snowing and everything is getting wet. I give them team a full 6 ½ hour rest. I can’t get to sleep. At 2:41 PM we leave for an uneventful run to Finger Lake.

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

Elim to White Mountain

2009-04-10T12:48:00.002-08:00

Normally we leave Elim on the sea ice, paralleling the shore until we leave to climb over Little McKinley. This year, just like my rookie year, bad ice on Norton Sound required us to take the overland route. It’s longer and hilly, but big tree country and very pretty.

I told Mike Suprenaut in Elim I would wait for him if he wanted to travel with me. I was ready first and didn’t want the dogs to wait in the checkpoint harnessed and bootied, so I’m lollygagging down the trail enjoying the scenery and being sheltered from the wind. We climb above tree line and bam, the wind hits us from the right like a hammer blow. The trail is drifted over. Thank heaven the trail markers are still there. Blaze and Rosemary put their heads down and drive into the crosswind. The trail drops back into the trees. Ww are protected again. I stop to wait for Mike and he catches me quickly.

We are going into and out of the wind, coming off a bald knob when Blaze and Rosemary loose the trail. I can see it off to our left - “Haw” - but they ignore me. I set both snowhooks in the soft snow, walk up to lead my front end left to the trail and Mike comes by – with a sharp “Haw” his leaders go down the correct trail. My team pulls both snowhooks and starts to race Mike parallel to, but off the trail.

You never run to catch the sled because that makes the velocity differential worse, you wait for the sled to come to you – my right arm is out and snags the drive bow. OUCH! There is a sharp blow to the sole of my right foot. The snowhook came through the side of the boot, through the liner and hit right in the middle of the arch. Dang that hurts. It popped right out again, so I didn’t get dragged. I don’t think it punctured the foot (I can stand on it), but it is -15 or so with a 15 to 20 mph wind blowing. There is no way I’m taking the boot off here to find out, and not much I could do if I did. I don’t think the boot is filling with blood, but I stand putting pressure on the arch to try to stop any bleeding that might be there. We are three or four hours out of White Mountain and everyone on the trail is ahead of me. Time to suck it up and keep going.

We come over the next rise into a world of featureless white. I’ve been in ground blizzards where you can’t see your dogs, but this is different. I can see the team, but in this flat light I can’t tell where the ground stops and the sky begins. Thank heaven I can see some markers, because I can’t see the ground. If it wasn’t for gravity, I could just as easily be upside down looking at the sky. I bounce from unseen bump to unseen side hill. This is strange… and a little spooky. Except for the dogs and a few stakes there are no visual references of any kind. So this is what a real white out looks like. I trust my leaders. There is no way I can see to drive in this.

Several minutes later we are out of it. Blaze and Rosemary loose the trail again. “Haw”. No response. I try to set the hook, but it won’t hold – I’m a little leery of walking (limping) down to my leaders without a good set. We go a little further and I try again. Finally the third time we hit hard windswept snow and the hooks hold. Blaze is telling me she has had enough and I move Platinum up with Rosemary. “Haw.” Platinum swings left and continues until he turns the team back on itself. “No!” He stops with his nose level with the sled. Grab his harness and lead him over towards the trail. Untangle some dogs, lead Platinum over more. Untangle more dogs, lead Platinum over more, finally he sees the trail and lines out. Finish untangling the team and we are off. Luckily this is the long drop off Little McKinley and we are done with the hills – for this run anyway.

The trip through Golovin was uneventful. I stopped in the shelter of the village to snack the dogs, then back into a headwind across Golovin Bay. Finally we are in White Mountain, the dogs are cared for and I pull my right boot off. There is no blood in the boot, none on the sock. The skin is broken like a bad bruise – contusion the vet says. The foot is sore, but good to go. We will get to finish this silly race after all.

Just before we bed down for the night we get the word – Redoubt has erupted. All flights to Anchorage are canceled until further notice. Never a dull moment on the Iditarod Trail.

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

Eagle Island to Elim

2009-04-08T17:19:00.001-08:00

We got into Eagle Is land at 4:40 PM after about a 6 hour run from our camp. Equal run / rest would have us leaving at 11 PM that night. After the tough trip we had going to Eagle Island we (Tim, Rachael, and I)thought the dogs needed more rest, and we were still worried about finding the trail in the dark. We would leave at first light. While there I got to close to the heater and melted the back of my insulator jacket (worn under my parka while running. When I got up to leave Pepper had eaten the breastplate of his harness – luckily I had a spare, but obviously he had enough rest.

I pulled the hook just before 8 AM headed for Kaltag. This was a much different run. The winds died down to about 10 mph headwind. It was barely enough to blow the loose snow over the ground. As we proceeded upriver, the trail became better defined, wider and more packed. All in all, it was a pretty nice respite after the last two days. I arrived in Kaltag at 5:17 PM for a 9 hour and 20 minute run – not fast, but a whole lot better than the Eagle River run. My beaver mitts were still frozen – I had three handwarmers in each one trying to dry them out. Luckily it was warmer.

The vets commented on how good my dogs looked, they were thin but eating and drinking well. Actually they said the dogs looked much better than I did, but a good meal and a nap helped me too. The dogs weathered the storm fine and the extra rest in Eagle Island had helped. I wasn’t competitive anymore, but still wanted to get to Nome before the banquet Sunday. Marti (my wife), Penny and Adam (my sister and nephew), and Bonnie and Leslie (my good friends) were there and I wanted to see them. I was going to give the team 8 hours of rest and run all the way to Unalakleet, but my checkpoint routine completely fell apart. Finally at 3:50 AM, 2 ½ hours late, we left Kaltag.

It was a pretty uneventful run to Unalakleet. The dogs were dipping snow like mad as we left, telling me I hadn’t quite given them enough to drink. I was pretty fried and kept micro-sleeping (falling asleep on the sled only to wake up as I started to fall off). We had a light tailwind and, after the sun came up, I woke up and had a pleasant trip. I was a little worried about going past Old Woman, because we always stopped there before, but no problem. I stopped at the turn to think about it and the dogs were banging their harnesses to go.

Unalakleet was a time disaster for me. I had planned an 8 hour rest, but found out Ed Iten and Melissa Owens had scratched in Elim. The best guess was the storm took enough out of their dogs that the teams quit. This was a real warning flag for me – give the dogs some extra rest. I also heard that Shaktoolik got so crowded with the front-of-the-pack mushers waiting out the storm that they filled their small semi-protected parking space and had to park teams in the street.

A friend of a friend offered to buy me dinner at Peace-on Earth Pizza (some of he best I’ve ever had) and I let him. Big mistake – I should have slept. So I moved my out time back and then slept through my alarm. By the time we finally left at 4:40 AM we had been there 12 ½ hours.

With all the talk about deep snow, we left Unalakleet in glare ice. That should have raised warning flags because the dogs couldn’t dip snow that wasn’t there, but I was focused on getting to Nome Sunday and never thought about it. We had a nice trip over the blueberry hills, even watching the lights of Shaktoolik from the hill tops. Then we dropped to the flats and hit the wind. Again! I could watch the dogs deflate before my eyes. I thought a good meal and short rest would fix them, but the vets told me all the dogs were dehydrated and I couldn’t leave until I fixed that. The vets were right and I’m grateful they were watching my back, because I wasn’t quite there. With three good wet meals and one hour of sleep for me, we left Shaktoolik 8 hours later and once more headed into the wind going across Norton Sound to Koyuk.

Luckily my beaver mitts finally dried out because it was COLD. The teams ahead of me said the winds died down after lonely rock (just as you cross onto the ice), but it didn’t happen. I had my face mask on, my beaver mitts with liner gloves and handwarmers, and I was still cold. I had Blaze and Rosemary in lead, but after the Yukon Blaze said no more into-the-wind stuff for her. I finally put Klinger in lead with Rosemary. We went forward for a while then they started leaving the trail and tangling the team – telling me they had enough too. I had to take my mitts off to untangle the dogs and frosted my hands again. I kept working with Rosemary and Klinger and after several tangles we made it to Koyuk. I was pretty beat. My little finger on the right hand had a pretty good blister – definite sign of frostbite – and my fingers were swollen from the cold. I wasn’t in trouble out there, but I easily could have been.

I had lots of time to think during that trip. The team had never come together. We had done much better last year. What went wrong? Finally I realized that I got wrapped up in trying to race and forgot to make it fun for either me or the dogs. I am proud that we finished (there were several times that wasn’t a sure thing), and I let the dogs know that, but I never made it fun. Time to work on my attitude.

The vets in Koyuk said ½ the team looked good, but the other ½ was dehydrated. Another long stop to get more rest and liquid into the dogs. They needed it.

The run from Kouyk to Elim was another windy trip, but at least it was a crosswind instead of a headwind. The first part of the run is somewhat sheltered, but near the end we cross the Kwik River delta for about 15 miles, very exposed and windy enough there is a shelter cabin at one end and Moses Point at the other.

At Elim they told me Platinum was very dehydrated and thin. I had arrived at 6 PM and planned to leave at midnight. One of the vets asked if I would consider waiting until morning. OK, I could do that. The dogs had had another hard run and could use the rest. Then the other vet asked if I would consider dropping two dogs. I knew one was Platinum. He was my best go-into-the-wind leader in 2008, and Blaze wasn’t too excited about the wind (not that I could blame her). I’d rather not, if I could stay longer and get him back it would be worth it. Pump three large wet meals into him – he ate double portions of all three. The fourth meal, a rich fish soup, was pretty much ignored, but I left the fish there and everyone ate it latter.

The winds were blowing right down the dog lot in Elim. The volunteers worked hard to use all the extra straw bags to form a wind break, but there was only so much they could do. The dogs were exposed to the wind and that compromised the quality of their rest. Unfortunately there was no better place to park them. About noon Mark Nordman called, more as a friend than as the race marshal, to see what the problem was. I explained “thin dogs” and he understood, but recommended we get out of dodge. If you wait too long the hot worm of scratching starts to eat at you.

I asked the vets about Platinum – “bring him in where we can take his coat off and get a good look at him”. His hydration was good, but he was very thin. The vet decided he was close but OK and cleared him to go. Thank heavens. They couldn’t identify the second dog, even after rechecking the entire team, so I guess the rest and wet sloppy meals worked.

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

The Frost Fiend – Grayling to Eagle Island

2009-04-02T11:51:00.000-08:00

I got into Grayling at 11:33 AM Sunday, 3/15, very much in race mode. The dogs looked good and I thought a 6 hour rest would keep them that way. Immediately I’m told how bad the winds were last night, how two good mushers left only to come back saying it was stupid to try. Fourteen mushers had spent the night, leaving Grayling between first light (as the winds died down) and 1230. I was getting ready to leave at 5:00 PM when Mike Suprenaut came in with an email – National Weather Service Wind Chill Advisory until noon Monday - expect temperatures to -30, winds to 15 mph, wind chill to -50 – ITC says to expect 12 hour runs. I wasn’t sure my dogs would break trail into the wind for that long and didn’t want to go alone. We decided as a group to leave at first light and try to catch the same break in the wind the folks here had Sunday morning.

At 8:42 Monday, after 21 hours of rest, I pull the hook and go onto the river and into the wind. Everyone else was up, but nobody was getting ready to go. It is supposed to be a race and the storm was supposed to be easing, maybe I’ll get a jump on them. I have Platinum in lead – my best go into the wind leader last year.

That wind is cold! I tighten my ruff down against my face and thank God for my heavy beaver mitts. For two hours we go straight into a stiffening headwind, there is no sign of easing. The trail is alternating between being swept clean and being drifted over with 3 to 4 inches of soft snow. Pretty tough pulling. Platinum starts telling me he has had enough, dropping back with a slack tug. Move Blaze and Rosemary into lead and we continue into the storm. Blaze is either loosing the trail or getting tired and ducking off the trail seeking relief. I gee or haw her back and she responds. We are doing pretty well. I can see far enough ahead in the daylight to tell Blaze where the trail will come out. Thank heaven we didn’t try this at night. The wind is blowing loose snow several inches over the ground, quickly covering our tracks.

We turn a small corner and the wind becomes a steady 25 mph straight into our face. We go OK for a while. Then Blaze and Rosemary mutiny and come back into the team. “No!” “ Stop!” Now my 2^nd set of team dogs are in lead and I have a tangle like I have not seen for years. Pull off the heavy beaver mitts, lay them on the sled so they don’t’ swing on the idiot strings and spook the dogs. Start on the tangle in my thin liner gloves. Cold Hands – stick them down my bibs to warm. Continue. Repeat. Fifteen minutes or so later we are straight.

Within 10 minutes they do it again. Dang! Same process. Same cold hands inside bibs. We are finally straight and I move Platinum up with Blaze, wipe the snow from their eyes and off we go again. Within 20 minutes they stop, but this time I stop the team before they come back. Move Rosemary up with Platinum. Off we go. They stop. Move Blaze up with Rosemary. At hike the team moves, but Rosemary and Blaze just sit there. Walk up and lead them to line out. At hike they still sit there, while the team moves. This is bad. Dee Dee scratched here in a storm just like this in 1999. Line out the dogs and talk to Blaze and Rosemary – they are not happy. Lie down in the snow to block the wind for them a little. Now what?

The blowing snow has stuck to my liner gloves and melted, now the liner gloves are starting to freeze on my hands. Pull them off and stick the gloves down my bibs to thaw. Put my bare hands back into my beaver mitts, but the storm has blown spindrift (fine loose snow) into the mitts. I pull out what I can, but the damage is done, the mitts are damp and starting to stiffen as they freeze. This is not good. Put three handwarmers in each mitt. My hands are ok, but the mitts are not drying out – I’m just staying even. It is 12:30 PM. We cannot stay here exposed to this vicious wind. Turn the team back and look for shelter against the bank. I think we have something and stop to check it out; it is just a lull in the wind, which soon picks up and drives us on. Try again, same result. At 1:30PM I stop to snack the team – I might have to go all the way back to Grayling to get out of the storm. There is a team coming. Tom Thurston passes, then Tim Osmar. Tim looks at me facing the wrong way “Are you going to chuck it in, or turn around and follow us?” It is just the kick in the pants I need. I finish snacking, turn the team and follow Jeff Holt, the 4^th and last musher in line. I learned later that Mike Suprenaut left with them, but went back to Grayling to wait out the storm. Tom is faster and pulls away. I’m faster than Jeff and pass him to follow Rachael. Blaze and Rosemary do a good job of chasing, but I don’t trust them to try to take the lead again.

It is a tough run – if Tim gets too far ahead, Rachael’s leaders lose sight of him and start to leave the trail. Blaze and Rosemary are only too happy to follow Rachael. I try to run between Tim and Rachael, but Rachael’s leaders are used to following Tim, not me. I let her pass me and off we go again. If I am more than 30 seconds behind Rachael, all sign of her passage is obliterated in the drifting snow.

I talk to Tim – he is planning to stop at Blackburn (a fish camp about 22 miles out of Eagle Island) for 3 or 4 hours, then push into Eagle Island for a real rest. At 1010 PM after nearly 14 hours on the trail for me, Tim pulls off the trail onto a gentle slope and stops. This is where we will camp for the night. It is exposed, but no worse than anywhere else we have seen. We haven’t seen Blackburn yet, but we can’t find the trail in the dark and have to wait for daylight to continue. Jeff Holt catches up and pulls in beside me.

Fix a hot meal for the dogs. Jeff has dug a trench to sleep in. Great idea and I quickly do the same. The snow is packed so tight here I need the axe to break it up and then scoop it out with my 1 qt scoop. We all tip our sleds over to break the wind, which is quickly drifting snow over the dogs (which should protect them) and hunker down behind the sleds. I sit in my trench behind my sled eating a warm meal – not too bad. Climb into my bag and try to go to sleep. The wind is blowing snow into the trench, but I think it will be ok.

My feet are cold. My socks are damp so I pull them off (inside the mummy bag – no small feat) and stuff them down my drawers to dry for morning. The bottom of the bag feels damp and my feet won’t warm up. Curl up into a fetal position as much as the mummy bag will allow so I can conserve warmth. Still no good. There are dry socks in a ziplock bag in the sled. Open the bag – everything is scattered because it’s sideways. Find the socks. My hands are cold, stuff them down my drawers to warm against my groin. Close the sledbag and put on the socks. My feet are still cold. This is bad. Finally realize the wind is blowing spindrift through the zipper into the sleeping bag.

This is not working. If I don’t get warm soon, I’ll be in real trouble. Get up and get fully dressed (hard because I’m already chilled) and start walking to generate body warmth. Check on the dogs – all I see are muzzles sticking out of mounds of snow. After a couple of hours I’m finally warm. Check on the dogs again and I can’t see Throttle’s muzzle anymore. Is she still breathing!?! I call her name – then tap the snow and her head comes up. Whew. Get my tarp and lie down in the lee of the sled (the trench is half full of snow) with the tarp as a wind break.

I’ve got to relieve myself and the tarp blows away. Walk to warm up again. Finally about 6 AM I lie down fully dressed and wrap my sleeping bag around me in the lee of the sled and drift off to sleep. At 7:30 Tim calls “Get up, it’s time to get moving” daylight is here.

Tired and miserable, I fix the dogs a hot meal. As I rouse them from their beds they look as cold and miserable as I do. There are blocks of snow about 2 inches on a side sticking to their coats. The dogs eat poorly, many preferring to just sit there and feel bad. The snow over Thyme is crusted so hard she can’t get up – I have to kick it apart, then she stands and cries, moves over and pees enough to start a minor flood. Poor girl.

Jeff Holt has had it. He is dug in, his dogs are dug in. He decides to stay and asks us to send help (rescue) when we get to Eagle Island. Tim and Rachael get ready faster than I do. I dug out my spare liner gloves, but my hands are stiff from the cold and booting the dogs takes longer than I figured. Will Blaze and Rosemary still follow the trail after 20 minutes? They take off and we work it out together. When they drift off, I call them back and they correct. We pass Blackburn about 15 minutes after we leave camp. A native gentleman snowshoes out and asks me to ask Eagle Island to call Grayling and tell them he got his snowmachine stuck.

I’m starting to regain my confidence in my leaders. The dogs seem to be warming up and feeling better as we move down the trail. A couple hours out we catch Rachael and follow her again.

The wind finally starts to ease. The snow is no longer blowing across the trail and it is not as drifted over as before. Finally at 4:40 PM Tuesday afternoon, after almost 32 hours on the trail and the most miserable night I can remember, we pull into Eagle Island. Jim Galley has moved the dog lot into the slew and we are out of the wind at last. Whew!

I delivered my messages and the Iditarod Air Force flew out in the dying storm and rescued Jeff and his dogs and the native gentleman whose snowmachine had fallen through the ice (I guess that’s stuck).

What an education. I met the Frost Fiend up close and personal that night. And it was only 25 to 30 mph winds at -25. It could have been 50 to 70 mph winds at -35! I had one more layer to put on, but if it was like that I’d have gone back to Grayling and waited. I got a real appreciation for what the old timers went through 100 years ago – there was no rescue then. If you guessed wrong and underdressed or didn’t carry enough food, you froze. You could feel it coming – you got cold and could not get warm. Scary.

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

--
Keep 'em Northbound

Eric O. Rogers
R Northbound Dogs

Eagle River, AK

eorogers@gci.net

http://www.rnorthbounddogs.com   (website)
http://rnorthbounddogs.blogspot.com  (blog)
http://www.dogster.com/dogs/797003  (Bass on dogster)
http://www.dogster.com/dogs/797276  (Dijon on dogster)

http://www.cafepress.com/rnorthbounddogs (Cafe Press)

I'm Baaack

2009-03-30T17:25:00.000-08:00

What a trip! With the ash related airline problems I finally got the dogs back to Anchorage Wednesday 3/25 (actually might have been Thursday it was that late – Great thanks to my patient, understanding friends that met them). Then I got in Thursday night, and spent Friday, Sunday and Monday nursing the Nome crud. This is a lingering “now you feel ok”, “now you really don’t” type of thing. I heard Mike Suprenaut looked terrible coming off the airplane – white as a sheet and high fever. Not fun stuff.

This was a very arduous race. We started slow, pushing through 3 inches of soft snow. The dogs worked hard and didn’t eat well – their common start to a race (I’ve got to solve that!) About 10 miles past Skwentna we started to hit the potholes – up to 3 or 4 feet deep and almost as wide as the trail. Throw in a few trenches for variety and it was hard work. The drops seemed steeper this year with the deep snow (or maybe I just got a better look at them J ). The Steps evoked some fast, very devote prayers, and we rolled out onto Happy River in one piece. The Dalzell wasn’t as bad as normal, tamed by the snow, but with all the concern over deep snow, much of the country leaving Rohn had been blown bare. Some very exciting sections there - a couple where I was sure I was going to get hurt – but we came through fine. Other mushers were not as lucky.

Once we crossed the range the run to Takotna for my 24 was pretty uneventful (OK two snowmachiners caught in overflow outside McGrath – that’s the insider interview there). It was fun being in Takotna with all the front runners – only Martin and Jim Lanier went further (Ophir) to 24 – but it sure was crowded. I was the 32^nd team to 24 there.

The trail to Iditarod and Shageluk was much better than we expected. The dogs were still not eating like they should and getting pretty thin. I’m in race mode, running in the high 40’s and planning to make a move in Kaltag. Then at Grayling we hit the storm. As soon as I got there Sunday everyone told me how Chad Lindner and Robert Nelson left the night before and came back because the winds were so bad. I’m getting ready to leave Sunday afternoon when an email came in from ITC – weather service advisory for wind chill – temps to -30 winds 15 to 20, wind chill to -50 (or more) from 9 AM Sunday until noon Monday – expect 12 hours on the trail to Eagle Island. Sunday morning the winds had abated and several people snuck out. We expect that same thing Monday morning. That’s a real monkey wrench in my race plans, but my dogs are thin with few reserves. Discretion is the better part of valor, and I unpacked to spend the night and leave at first light as the winds eased.

That was the start of my descent from race mode to survival mode, and it is probably the wisest decision I made that race. You know what they say about assumptions? The wind seemed like it might ease, I left, and it only got stronger. I met the frost fiend up close and personal between Grayling and Eagle Island. I’ll tell that whole story later, but we spend a pretty miserable 32 hours on the trail (12 of them in an exposed camp) following Tim and Rachael while Blaze and Rosemary got used to the idea of running into the wind forever. Thank heaven Jim Galley was at Eagle Island – he moved the dog lot from the exposed river to a sheltered slough as soon as the storm hit.

At Kaltag the dogs looked great (thin, but doing very well), coming into Shaktoolik we were back into the wind and it was like someone took a knife and cut the body fat off them. That was where we started staying extra to get more food, rest and water into the dogs. We did that the entire coast – the vets watched us very closely, and I am grateful for their caution. In the end it worked well – watch the insider video of our finish and you would never guess we had cross winds (sometime more than other) almost the entire way from White Mountain. The dogs looked great – I made the right decision. But the problem started on day one when they didn’t eat well.

Lot’s of adventures on the coast – my first true whiteout (I could clearly see the dogs and sometimes the stakes, but there was no horizon reference – I had just a little vertigo). Then team got off the trail and pulled the hooks through the soft snow. As I caught the sled the snowhook went through the side of my new boots and hit the sole of my foot. No puncture wound, but it is still sore. And the wind!

I dropped Dukat in Anvik because he wasn’t having fun (good decision), and Keiko and Pepper in White Mountain at the last minute because they were starting to get tired. They worked hard and could have finished, but it only mattered to me, not to them. They were tired enough neither dog objected.

Platinum has a little frostnip on his nose, everyone else is regaining their weight and wondering why we are not running. I have minor frostbite on both big toes and some cold injuries (I don’t think it is frostbite – more like heavy calluses) on most of my finger tips. I’ve got a Dr appt Thursday for a medical opinion.

My immediate challenge is to find either, a major corporate sponsor, a way to make money with the dogs, or an honest job to pay the bills.

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

Where has all the time gone

2009-03-08T08:25:00.003-08:00

Isn't it amazing? You build a plan with lots of slack and great intentions and the next thing you know the deadline is here and half the things you promised to do are not done. I had intended to write about our adventures camping early in February (two 200 mile trips), the perils of food drop (what did I forget this year?), the incredibly organized group of volunteers that handle food drop at the ITC end, and all the interesting diversions that life throws at you in the mean time. Oh, well. I leave in 20 minutes for Willow and the next time I see my computer will be after the race.

The heavy snow looks like it is continuing - there are great trail condition reports on the Bering Sea School District IditaProject Forum. It should be an interesting race.

Lycos strained his wrist in the last camping trip three weeks ago. He had two weeks off, then 4 easy runs, but the wrist is swollen again. At vet check last Wednesday they said I could probably take him if I was agressive about treatment, but I run the risk of this becoming chronic - I had to retire Jewels early for wrist problems and don't want to do that to Lycos, so as good a leader as he is, he will stay home and I'll start with 15 dogs (poor Lycos is whining "why can't I go with the team?" as we load).

We had a great time at the start - our Idit-a-rider was Dorothy Hamill - cool, eh?

The dogs on the team will be Platinum, Keiko, Pepper, Frodo, Basil, Dukat, Sisco, Blaze, Ginger, Dash, Rosemary, Throttle, Klinger, Thyme, and Mocha. You can see photos and descriptions of them on the website.

I feel real good about this dog team - they have come together nicely. We won't be contending for the win, but I expect to substantially improve our previous best finish (68th) - I left lot's of room to do that. ;-)

Keep us in your prayers and

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Names to Nome

2009-03-08T08:24:00.001-08:00

The current list of Names to Nome is:

Marti Rogers, Eagle River, AK
Daily's Web Design - Theresa Daily
The Northern Restaurant Group
Trish & Dale Keefe
Raven Electric, Anchorage, AK
Karen Lederhos, Anchorage, AK
The Sorvoja family, Eagle River, AK
Pat Schue, N Richland Hills, TX
Mary & Irving Horowitz - Princeton, NJ
Dennis, Penny, & Adam Sputh,
Denver, CO
Jim & Bonnie Foster, Chugiak, AK
Leslie & Matt Gillis
Andi Rogers, Eagle River, AK
Lexi Hill, Chugiak, AK
Cheryl Eldridge, Eagle River, AK
Chuck & Kitty Jackson, Elk Grove, CA
Gerald & Barbara Lake, Hampton, TN
Little Bear and Blackie
Paulette Jones, Edgewood, MD
Ted & Sandy Rogers, Los Angeles, CA
One Eighteen Advertising,
Los Angeles, CA
Diane Douglass, Los Angeles, CA
Emily Denis, Los Angeles, CA
Claudia & Lee Nowak,
Traverse City, MI
Marcia W. Claesson, Lincoln, NE
Grzegorz Janczewski,
Warszawa, Poland
Diane Fisher, Coos Bay, Ore
Jerry & Barbara Lake, Hampton, TN
Richard Gallea, Eden Prairie, MN
Cynthia Lackey, San Angelo, TX
Jim Rogers, Ft Collins, CO
Patricia Shideler, Bradenton, FL
Karen & Ken Fletcher, Olalla, WA
Tom & Carolyn Drake, Clemson, SC
Karen Tria, Bridgewater, NJ
William Krisak
The Sorvoja Family, Eagle River, AK
Otto & Marietta Schumpf, Aloha, OR
Curves of Eagle River,
Peg Saam Owner, Eagle River, AK
Brent and Dawn Garvin, Columbia, SC
Aidan, Bailey, and Cameron Garvin,
High Point NC
Tammy Taylor, Silver Spring, MD
Mary Atkinson, Aumsville, OR
S & L Braig, Denver, CO
MGF Brian, Fergus Falls, MN
Pat Brighton, Brimley, MI
Steve Walker, Truckee, CA
Penny, Dennis, and Adam Sputh
Denver, CO
Karen & Ken Fletcher, Olalla, WA
Candy Smith, Cedar Park, TX
Ann Dimond, Erdenheim, PA
Vera Barber, Isle of Man, UK
St. John’s Orthodox Christian School,
Eagle River, Ak
Gail Somerville, Anchorage, AK
Garrett Harding, Maryland
Shawn McCullough, Maryland
Zack Tolson, Maryland
Christopher Hubbard, Maryland
Ruben Thompson, Maryland
Jerod Thomas, Maryland
Ethan Sanders, Maryland
Charlie and Derek Johnson, Maryland
Adriane Pollmeier, Maryland
Beth Drozdick, Eagle River, AK
Lauren Christenson, Alaska
Tessa Tiefan Waskin, Skillman, NJ
Jorah Barber, Anchorage, Ak
Kysa Barber, Anchorage, Ak
Micah Barber, Anchorage, Ak
Kaitlyn Conley, Anchorage, Ak
Kalea Gregg, Anchorage, Ak
Kaitlin Kirsch, Anchorage, Ak
Abigail Roth, Anchorage, Ak
David Toves, Anchorage, Ak
Harmony Toves, Anchorage, Ak
Peter Toves , Anchorage, Ak
Hannah Utic, Anchorage, Ak
Beth Drozdick, Eagle River, AK
Val & Lou Petkus, Batavia, Il
RD & Adam Prewitt, Eaqle River, AK
Ed Sundeen, AK
Libby & Othmar Grueninger,
Indianapolis, IN
Amy Maher, Worden, IL
The Bearden Family, Eagle River, AK
Chugach Chiropractic Clinic,
Eagle River, AK

The 2009 Serum Run Pulls Plug

2009-03-02T19:50:00.001-09:00

I am always interested in the conditions trail users like Iron Dog and Serum Run that precede Iditarod find. The 2009 Serum Run pulled the plug in Ruby due to deep snow on the trail. You can read about it at http://www.serumrun.org/.

The Bering Sea IditaProject Forum reports deep snow http://mushing.bssd.org/forum/viewtopic.php?f=3&t=742 .

This could be the year the Kotzbue guys (Ed Iten and John Baker) do really well.

I look for an interesting race - anyone know where I can get self powered snowshoes :-)

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Dead Quad

2009-02-09T13:42:00.007-09:00

The life of an Iditarod musher is never boring. January started with a cold snap (minus 50 on the Knik 200), then warmed into the plus 50's and melted all our trails. After 6 days it finally cooled off enough to refreeze the trails, but the snow was gone. Back to quads. Disappointing, but not terminal.

My poor quad is an '87 Honda that was hard used when I bought it 7 years ago. Since then the dogs have pulled it close to 6000 miles, mostly against the engine compression, sometimes over obstacles that made me cringe, bouncing off rocks, trees, and stumps. I've become good friends with the local salvage yard mechanic who has kept us moving down the trail time and again, but this time...

We were 4 miles back bouncing over the frozen tussocks in the swamp for about 2 miles. The trail crossed a large frozen puddle and the quad broke through. About an inch of ice over 8 inches of cold water. The dogs pulled mightily while I gunned the engine. After a bit we broke out the rest of the ice and popped out, but the steering wasn't right. Handlebar cocked full left, wheels turned right. I could almost go straight, or turn right - there was no going left. Do you have any idea how many left turns there were to get back to the parking lot?

Thank heaven I only had 8 dogs instead of 16 or we would still be out there discussing matters :-). The solution was to run down the trail a bit, stop the team, pull the front of the quad left, and run back down the trail until we ran off the right side again. Repeat the process until we got to the truck. If I hadn't been worried about setting a bad example I'd have bought some hot dogs and had a BBQ right there!

Bonnie Foster loaned me her machine and we ran the second team. We got home a little later than planned, but except for loss of sleep and general wear and tear on nerves and body it is just another story. Four long runs on Bonnie's machine (sweet beast - heated hand grips, odometer and speedometer, the works) later we are back on sleds.

My quad is a good news / bad news story. The good news is the mechanic can fix the broken support arms, assuming he can get the parts for a machine that old. The bad news is the estimate is $1000 - which is what the machine is worth.

I think this quad will get a good christian burial, but can't you hear my dogs talking to their grandkids. "Back in my day we had to pull the quad, not ride on it. Fifty miles at a time, uphill all the way..."

Eric

Dog Update

2009-01-22T11:00:00.000-09:00

For those following the dogs, I retired Jewels a month ago. He has some arthritis in his wrists. He managed fine until we got to 50 mile runs but then they started to bother him. He retrained to be a house dog with Lexi Hill, and is now in tryout stage at another home. I understand that after three days my shy, quiet, British Butler of a dog is sleeping on the bed. :-)

Strider has not been able to get into shape. I was hauling him in a crate on the 4-wheeler for part of almost every run. When we switched to the sled he finally did some 50 mile runs, a back-to-back pair of 50’s with 4 hours rest in between (he was asleep in his box in the truck before I finished loading the other dogs), and 60 miles out of 70. Then he wore out at 20 miles and again at 30 miles. I demoted him and he is now living with Leslie and Matt Gillis. I don’t think anyone is sure if this is permanent or just for the rest of the season.

That leaves me with 16 dogs to train for Iditarod. Keiko is a real question mark, but is hanging in there so far. We will have to see. Pepper seems to have turned the corner and be making the team, but I’m having trouble keeping weight on him. Sisco is recovering from a sore wrist, and Basil a sore shoulder.

Keep thinking good thoughts our way and this just might come together ;-).

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Major Meltdown

2009-01-20T10:00:00.002-09:00

The weather has been a topic of conversation since the earliest days of mankind. I can picture Og and Ug sitting in a cave “Some weather, huh? Cold! Build fire.”

Ten thousand years ago grandpa would be sitting around the campfire wrapped tight in his skins:“Cold! This is nothing. When I was your age I was so cold the words froze coming out of your mouth. You had to carry them to the person you were talking to and they would hold them over the fire to thaw them out so they could hear them. One year it got so cold the fire froze and we couldn’t talk for months. When it warmed up in the spring, the fire thawed and burned down half the forest.”

Well now it’s my turn. :-) Our house is 300 feet above Eagle River on the side on the mountains. Cold air is denser than warm settles in the low spots. On a cold day in we can easily be 20 degrees warmer town (and the trails where we train). Combine that with the warming trend in recent years (a few years back Anchorage went over 400 days without breaking zero) and we seldom see sub-zero temperatures at the house. December 30 that changed. The thermometer dropped, bounced around -15, and we didn’t see zero again for 10 days.

The GinGin 200 mile sled dog race (Dec 27th) ran in Paxson, AK. Stories came back about sub-zero temperatures with 50 mph winds blowing across ice covered pavement (the race follows the Denali Hwy to McLaren lodge), then it got cold. Minus 50! Stories of wind, cold, frostbite, and bent / broken sleds came back. The old fun meter bottomed out. A week later the Knik 200 left the Knik bar (in Knik, AK) for Skwentna, AK. Minus 30 at the start. Passing Yentna roadhouse it was -50 at the lodge up on the bank, probably 10 degrees colder on the river. January 9th the Daily News ran a story about a photo of a thermometer in Tok, AK reading -80 (the official temperature was -58 – in the mayor’s office J ) http://www.adn.com/newsreader/story/647951.html . January 10th the Copper Basin 300 started at Wolverine lodge on Lake Louise in -50 degree weather. We were having a good old fashioned Alaskan winter. But not everyone appreciated it. Be careful what you pray for.

Saturday the 10th the high was +1 in Eagle River and we welcomed zero like a long lost friend. Sunday the high was +6, Monday +20, just about normal, and the low was only +5. Tuesday night I was running the team 50 miles on 2 inches of fresh snow and all was well with the world. Then it started to snow, turned to sleet, to freezing rain, and finally to rain… When I got home about mid-night the Chinook winds picked up and all heck broke loose. We get a thaw like this every January – little did I know this would be one for the books.

The Daily News tells it well http://www.adn.com/news/alaska/anchorage/story/654637.html, http://www.adn.com/news/alaska/story/653547.html, http://www.adn.com/news/alaska/story/656019.html, and http://www.adn.com/news/alaska/story/656003.html.

The foot and a half of snow we had on the roof is gone, and grass is visible in the yard. Friday the 16th we got ¾ of an inch of rain on the remaining snow. With the frozen ground the water had to run off. We had water backed up against the garage door. There was a river coming underneath the door to the drain in the floor. I tried to take it down with the shop vacuum and sent Marti out to buy a sump pump. She said they were selling like hotcakes and she got the next to last. An hour later we had moved over 500 gallons, but finally caught up with the storm. Saturday morning we got a break, but Saturday evening the next storm in line caught us. Luckily (or not) most of the snow had melted from the first and we only had the wind and rain to deal with.

This isn’t just Anchorage, the better part of the state has been affected. The Kuskoquim 300 in Bethel was postponed two days. The Klondike 300 out of Big Lake has been postponed a week (and may be cancelled). The Tustamena 200 on the Kenai is postponed a week. The Eagle River Classic is postponed indefinitely. The trails statewide took a major hit. Our local trails have been closed until they freeze to minimize damage while they are thawed. There is little snow in the forecast.

The word from Skwentna is that a creek upriver opened and the Skwentna River in Skwentna has water over the ice from bank to bank. The Yentna and Susitna Rivers have overflow due to the added weight of all the rain. Trails in Willow are soft to icy. The lakes in Eagle River have standing water over the ice. Statewide mushers are evaluating their options. Every day you miss training reduces the dogs conditioning. But training on icy trails risks injuries to you and the dogs. They have good snow at Paxson (a 7 hour drive) and Eureka lodge on the Glenn Hwy (a 3 hour drive), but Lake Louise (in between) is bad. Those with handlers (to care for the dogs left behind) and money to rent a place to stay can chase snow, everyone else copes the best they can.

In 2003 conditions were so bad there was no way to cross the Alaska Range and Iditarod moved the restart to Fairbanks. Hmmm…

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

Connections

2009-01-19T12:39:00.002-09:00

I’ve been meaning to update this for some time, but things get a little hectic around here this time of year. Barnum and Bailey interviewed me for ringmaster, but compared to this, the job was so quiet and peaceful I fell asleep :-)

January 1st my brother, who writes the Biking In LA blog, wrote a blog post about chasing dreams and mentioned my being a particle physicist. Tona Kunz, a writer for Fermi Labs "Symmetery" magazine was searching the web for Particle Physics news and found my brothers blog post. She likes to show that Physicist can have real lives so she featured me in the "Symmetry Breaking" blog. The Anchorage Daily News caught her post and referenced it in their "Alaska Newsreader" section about 1/3 of the way down. They also brought up the reference for the story from last March where I broke my leg running the 2007 Iditarod. I told my brother that he inspired a post on a particle physics blog and he had to talk about that. All is all it was a lot of fun - I hope you enjoy reading it. It just shows that you never know where something will lead :-)

I promise in the next post I'll tell you about the major meltdown we are having here (weather, not mental :-)

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Unguided Missiles

2009-01-03T12:52:00.001-09:00

Martin Buser said that one of the nice things about running dogs is that you can pretend you are in control. With the holiday season we have missed a couple of runs. Combine that with below zero for a week (the dogs really love to run at -10) and the dogs are pumped. Our club has outgoing and incoming trails so we don’t have head-to-head passes during races. Normally I park lined up with the outgoing trail, but last night there was a gentle breeze carrying exhaust from a running truck in that direction. No problem, I just moved to the other side.

I’ve got Rosemary and Ginger in lead and when I pull the hook they have a bad case of the “I’ve got to run”s and take off like their tails were on fire. I call “gee” to the outgoing trail. Heads flicker right, but they run straight to the incoming side. Platinum tries to go right from behind swing, but is quickly over ruled and goes along as a matter of survival. I’m on the brake for all I’m worth, but the dogs don’t even notice. “Whoa!” “Whoa, you mangy curs!” I might as well be telling the earth to move over under their feet. They charge on with great glee, running the trail backwards. Not really a problem, unless you meet some poor novice. Imagine cruising the trail with your 6 dog team, minding your own business when a 16 dog freight train comes at you head on at a dead run…

Three miles down the trail there is a cross over that I use – luckily the dogs listen this time and take the turn. Now we are running the normal direction, but control is a fragile illusion. I ride the drag the entire 20 miles. Going up the steep hills it almost works. This is a fun ride, but if it was the Iditarod start we would have burned energy we would really want when we got to the coast.

But it is way too convenient having the Beach Lake Trails in my backyard (well almost – it’s only 5 miles away). This is a nice trail system, but a little short for long runs (only 25 miles at best) and after 15 years you start naming the trees. It isn’t too bad until Fred the birch at the 6 mile turn asks to say “hi” to Steve the Spruce up at 8 mile. At some point you have got to travel and see new stuff.

The Willow community maintains a multi-use trail system that the Iditarod uses for the restart (http://www.willowdogmushers.com/files/West_Gateway_Trails.pdf). It is a marvelous way to get to the Susitna River and from there to the Yentna. Great for long trips. The Willow restart is at the red dot in the upper right. Follow the trail across Willow Lake, through the swamp, down Long Lake to Crystal Lake across the road to Vera Lake to the Willow Swamp Trail, around to Corral Hill Trail and down to the Susitna for the restart route. On Crystal Lake there is another red circle, which is a parking lot for snow machines and dog teams to access the trails. About 3 weeks ago I took as 12 dog team to check out the trails – magnificent! The best early season snow we’ve had for a long time. Monday I loaded all 16 dogs; put Lycos in lead (he hadn’t run here since last year) with Dash who had run Saturday. There is a back door out of the parking lot to Crystal Lake, but the angle is wrong for a 16 dog team so I just run down the road and hang a right where the trail crosses it. There isn’t much traffic and little risk.

I’m stuffing the snub line in the sled bag when Dash tries to turn right, Lycos looks at the plowed road and insists we go straight, my belated “gee” notwithstanding. Now what!?! There is no way to stop – my brake just bounces off the hard frozen plowed dirt road. I see a right turn and take it hoping to either find a loop back or a trail to the Swamp Loop. Luckily a car came by with a nice understanding driver who helped me turn the team around (actually he stood on the brake while turned the team, untangled them, and prayed they didn’t take him to Nome instead of me). I love living in Alaska! The driver was very great, but can you imagine what he thought?

A week later I’m back for more. It is snowing and I can’t seem to get here for a daylight start. Ok, the short days and the 1 ½ hour drive helps, but even so… Lycos is in lead again, takes the gee onto Vera Lake just fine, and off we go. In the snow I can’t really see the trail and trust his instincts to find it in the failing light. Next thing I know there are houses just off to my right. The trail goes down the middle of the lake, not the shore, so I haw Lycos over. We find a trail and off he goes.

Wait a minute, this doesn’t look quite right. I’m puzzling over the narrow trail through the trees when a road crossing comes up. Wrong trail! Turn the 16 dog team around, praying the snow hook holds. Undo the tangle and pray some more as the untangled dogs slam their harnesses frustration at sitting so long this early in the run. Once more we avoid disaster, run back to the lake, find the desired trail, and proceed into the storm. Wow! So much for Lycos good sense of direction and trail memory – I’ll remember that for Iditarod.

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

Klinger

2008-12-22T08:10:00.003-09:00

At the end of November, I had 13 strong dogs on the team. Three solid “go to” leaders: Platinum (the star of last year’s race), Blaze (the consultant with five 1000 mile races under her belt), and Lycos (dropped in Skwentna last year with a sore back, but looking good so far this year).

Six strong supporting leaders: Rosemary (who got best supporting leader last year), Mocha (Rosemary’s sister – a fast leader under good conditions), Thyme (Rosemary’s other sister - easy going, but driven to run), Dash (Rosemary’s aunt, her gait isn’t as smooth as some, but she drives hard), Basil (Dash’s half sister, another good trail leader), and Ginger (my squirrel girl – fast and hard driving, but still immature at 2).

Four solid team dogs: Frodo (a very athletic 2 yr old, but immature - when the team is running flat out he is playing with the dog next to him, never missing a step), Dukat (solid and hard working wheel dog), Sisco (Dukat’s brother and running mate, another solid wheel dog), and Throttle (the sweetest dog on the team, and a solid performer).

Three question marks: Keiko (Dukat’s sister, she was dropped in Skwentna in 2007 and didn’t make the 2008 team. A sweet, hard working girl, but I’m not convinced she can keep up with this team when we get to long runs.), Strider (another immature 2 yr old. He tore a pad in Oct 2007 and never got in shape to make the team last year), and Pepper (Basil’s brother. Pepper joined the team in late September and has had trouble catching up in training).

I don’t mind starting Iditarod with 14 dogs, I did it my rookie year, but 13 is cutting things thin, and there is no room for injuries to even have 13. I could really use another good dog, but this had to be a dog off a team already in training for Iditarod – already doing 50 miles runs.

A quick email to Jeff King (I really like Jeff’s dogs – half my team is out of his kennel). Jeff had Klinger, a 2 yr old neutered male, he thought I would like. Jeff is a very busy man, and on a good day my schedule resembles Barnum and Bailey. Jeff is passing through Palmer in route to the Sheep Mountain 150. Leslie Gillis works in Palmer. I’m on a 50 mile training run at Beach Lake.
The dog fairy blessed me. When I got back to the truck there was a new dog (ok, a slightly used dog :-) ) resting in one of the boxes. I was a little concerned that Klinger might insist in wearing a pink harness, but he seems like a regular guy :-).

Jeff warned me that Klinger is a chewer. Jeff doesn’t use necklines, so Klinger chews on the gangline, which in Jeff’s system is a heavy duty rope. Not good. Jeff’s handler was running the second team and got tired of dealing with the chewing, so he moved Klinger up into lead where there is nothing to chew – he ran 50 miles there chasing the lead team that Jeff was driving. Silly boy.

Jeff must have had a long talk with Klinger, because he hasn’t chewed anything here yet. Of course he has only been in the kennel 10 days so far. He is definitely a keeper. He is a thinker, which can be good and bad, and a little intimidated by the new conditions - but very stoic about it. He is affectionate, like attention, works hard and moves well. He hasn’t let anything slow him down. In 9 days since he arrived we have done three 50 mile runs, a 8 mile fun run, and a 70 mile run. We go out for two more 50’s today.

Since I got Klinger, Pepper and Strider are making strong gains and may make the team after all. That would make a good 16 dog team. Keep thinking good thoughts – this is going to be fun!

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

Time sure is fun!

2008-12-14T15:45:00.004-09:00

There were two frogs sitting on the lily pad. One turned to the other "Time sure is fun when you are having flies." I must be having a bunch of flies :-).

The week before Thanksgiving the team was looking great, running 50 miles and back-to-back 40's (run 40 miles, rest 3 hours, run 40 more). Then I took sick - gnarly head cold and lost Monday and Tuesday. Wednesday I'm feeling better, load the dogs and quad, drive to the track and as I pull in there is a terrible metal-on-metal grinding noise. Oops! I try to identify the noise and it just gets worse. Three PM Thanksgiving eve. Drive home, unload the dogs, call the shop. With the weather and holiday they are not busy and can take it immediately. Turns out the heat shield on the catalytic converter caught on the drive shaft. An hour later some plumbers tape wrapped it back. The drive shaft is compromised. It could last a month, or it could last the life of the truck - I'll keep an eye on it.

Friday I finally get the dogs out for the first run in a week. A week off isn't bad and I build a schedule to train from here. Sunday I sign up for my 4th Iditarod, literally at the last minute (see DEc 1st post) and I am pumped. Monday we run a fast (easy lope) 20 miles planning on a long run Tuesday and a back-to-back 50 on Thursday. God must have a sense of humor. I load the dogs and quad, drive to the gas station and the driver behind me points out that my trailer wheel is wobbling side to side. The trailer carries the quad. This is not good. It looks like the whole hub assemble is broke. Drive home, unload quad, call shop - this time they are busy, but bring it in and leave it.

Drive back home. The dogs are still loaded in the truck to run. We have snow, but it is rough - just maybe I can run two 8 dog teams instead of one 16 dog team. Load the sled, transfer lines, snowhooks, snub line, spare tugs, spare necklines, etc. Two hours later I'm at the track. Harnessing 8 dogs is a snap and we are off. I had forgotten how nice it was to be on the sled. Instead of the 60 mile run I'd planned, I do two teams for 14 miles and we flat have a ball.

While very doable with an 8 dog team, it just isn't safe to run more. That means every run is doubled, but Wednesday we manage a pair of 28 miles runs. That means the musher has gone from 5 hours of sitting on the quad to 5 hours of standing on the runners. I'm good and tired at the end, but there is a big smile on my face.

Thursday I'm down again - stomach bug this time. Monday I'm finally well enough to run, but now the dogs have only run 4 times in two weeks - I need to back up to the last good week (before Thanksgiving) and start from there. I'm still running two teams so it takes twice as long - we make a 14 and then 28 mile run, but I've got to run 50 miles - two 50's /day for 2 days would kill me. But we got more snow. Divide the team into thirds, A, B, C. Run AB the first day, BC the second day, and CA the third day. Training 16 dogs, every dog runs twice in three days, but only 10 or 11 at a time. Great for the dogs, but no time off for the musher.

Thursday and Friday work fine, Saturday we have races at the track where I train, but I can drive to Willow (1 1/2 hours), and follow the Iditarod race trail down the Susitna and up the Yentna for 25 miles, then come back. This is another blessing in disguise. The snow is wonderful, the skies clear. It is cold and I'm under dressed (three handwarmers in each glove), but the dogs run well. We are treated to a gorgous sunset, spectacular moon rise, and all the glory of running a well trained team. Wow!

It's Sunday afternoon, I am tired and so far behind on house chores I may never get caught up, but I've got a big warm cheshire cat grin and tomorrow we'll get to do it all over again.

We've had a visit from the dog fairy, and loosing three weeks (plus finances) puts the Knik in doubt. But those stories will have to wait until I have more time.

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Iditarod 2009

2008-12-01T15:13:00.000-09:00

I've been praying hard about this years Iditarod, particularly for the last two days since entries closed at midnight last night. Saturday I had a feeling that I should go the the bank and get the musher release notarized. I wrote that off to my "never say die" attitude. At Mass Saturday night I got a feeling that I should sign up, but it went away after church. Sunday I let go and prayed hard that God's will be done. That He show me the way. During dinner, Marti said I should go for it and sign up. I've tried to find a "real job", and not even gotten an interview. Looking for sponsors, I'm worth more as a participant than as a veteran. My dream is to get someone to sponsor me to talk to school kids and civic groups in their name. I was afraid that Marti just wanted the stress to end, and I wanted this so bad it was clouding our judgment. I prayed again for guidance.

By 8:30 Sunday night I had pretty much written off this years race and was getting ready for bed. Marti was on the phone talking to a friend who asked what was involved in sponsorship. The friend said she would cover the second half of my entry fee if I would sign up. Lightening struck and even I couldn't miss that message. Print off the forms. My printer died. Use Marti's - it ran out of black ink - silly us, we had no more. Get Andi to print off the forms on her computer. The entry must be postmarked by midnight Sunday. The airport post office is open from 6 AM to 11:58 PM - I had a plan. The musher release form must be notarized. Call another friend who calls a friend who drives to her office, gets her stuff, meets me in a grocery store parking lot in Anchorage and just after 10 PM notarizes my form. I thank heaven for plastic money, and drive to the post office. At 11PM, literally the 11th hour, I hand the clerk the letter and watch him put a Nov 30th cancel on the stamps.

I'm In!

Now the had part begins. I need to redouble my efforts to raise funds to run the race, feed the family and dogs, and now pay the mortgage. But I got the message. The rest is just hard work.

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Conditioning

2008-11-22T17:05:00.000-09:00

Shhh… Be very quiet. Can you hear it? That is the sound of a tired , happy dog team. They just ran 80 miles in the last 12 hours.

At noon I started preparations, fixing lunch and dinner for myself. Getting the kibble and hot water for the dog’s meals. Loading harness, quad, gas, dogs, meals, water, handwarmers, arctic gear, headlamp, and everything else we would need for the runs. We got to the trail at 2 PM, unloaded, hooked up, and started the first run at 3. Four hours and twenty minutes later we had bounced and bumped our way over 42 miles of trail to arrive back at the truck. Feed the dogs, myself and settle in for a 3 hour rest. At 10:30 PM it’s back on the trail to bounce our way through another 42 miles. At 3 AM, 4 ½ hours later, the dogs are tired, but feeling good about a job well done. I take the time to tell each dog how proud I am, feed them again, and load them into the truck. By the time I get home Strider is sound asleep in his box. Unload all the dogs – Strider climbs into his house and is back asleep before I get the next dog unloaded. Dash isn’t tired and runs around the backyard checking out the morning smells before coming to be tethered. I rejoice in my life with these wonderful companions, and at 5:30 AM fall into bed for my own nap, knowing I will not get to bed this early, after a back-to-back run, again this season.

So what does it take to condition the dogs to run Iditarod? The conventional building block for a mid- to long-distance race is the back-to-back 50. Run 50 miles, rest 6 hours, and run 50 more. Repeat until finished. If you can do this for 2 weeks you will finish Iditarod.

This year I started in early September with four 7 mile runs per week and 10 to 20 short rest stops during each run for the dogs to cool off and catch their breath. It was a cool September and we ran mid-mornings, a nice change from getting up at 3 AM to beat the heat. Figure 4 to 5 hours overhead (loading, setting up, driving, taking down, unloading and putting away) plus an hour fifteen for each run and we are working 24 hours / week (not counting 1 hour of chores to take care of the dogs each day).

By October 1st the dogs are getting into shape and we mix 10 mile short fast runs with 20 mile long slow runs. The dogs actually ran for 9 hours the first week, with a solid 20 hours of overhead (driving to different trails), for a 36 hour week (counting chores). By November 1st the short fast runs are 15 miles (at higher speed with fewer rests), and the long slow runs are 30. We started back-to-back runs (where we run, rest short, and run again) October 23 with a 40 mile run with 4 hours of rest in the middle. I also started feeding twice a day, so chores go to 1 ½ hours / day. The typical week runs 40 hours with the dogs.

By December 1st the plan is short fast 30 miles runs, long slow 60 mile runs, and 50 mile back-to-back (190 miles total), achieving the conventional building block. Last year I thought that was what the dogs were capable of, and spent the rest of the training season refining it. The team had run 2,500 miles by the start of last year’s Iditarod. But after the 114 mile run to finish the Taiga 300 last April (http://www.rnorthbounddogs.com/PDF/Taiga3002008.pdf), I know better.

Our planned race season starts January 3rd with the Knik 200. To be competitive in that race you have to run from Knik to Skwentna (about 92 miles) in 8 to 9 hours, rest 6 hours, and 8 to 9 back for a 22 to 24 hour total. I really need to do at least one back to back 100 (200 miles total) with 6 hours of rest before January to simulate that race. This is new ground for me and I don’t know exactly how I’ll get there from back to back 50’s next week. But you can count on it being exciting, and getting to bed by 5 AM will be a fond memory.

My mother used to warn me about people who came home when decent people were getting up to go to work. Like most kids I never listened. ;-)

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

The dogs make me laugh

2008-11-15T17:14:00.002-09:00

This has been an interesting week. Monday was supposed to be a short fast run. We tried a new trail and there were at least three trees down blocking it. I cut the first two, the third was too big for my hand saw. Turn around and go back. So much for short and fast ;-). The photo shows a branch stuck in the chains.

Tuesday was supposed to be a 50 mile run. The moose changed that. Thursday was supposed to be a 40 mile run, a 5 hour rest, and another 40 mile run getting me home between 6 and 8 AM Friday.

I haven’t had any more luck making money to support the family, mortgage, and dogs than I’ve had running this week. A marine survey company called Wednesday to interview me on Friday for job and I jumped at the chance. But I needed to be coherent, not a sleep deprived musher. No problem. Single runs on Thursday and Saturday will work fine. The dogs need an easy week once in a while and this fits.

It’s Friday, life happened  and the company never called me back to confirm time for the interview. Ok, run Friday to leave the trails open for those that can’t run during the week. About 9 miles into the run, I’m debating the merits of 20 vs 25 miles when it struck me the dogs were running like a fine swiss watch. Everything was great – let’s end the week on a positive note – I turned them for home. A mile out we climb heartbreak hill. The dogs attack the hill like a troop of marines. My heart swells with pride.

Pepper is having trouble keeping up and dropping back behind Worf (they are two up from wheel). Slow the team a little and Pepper catches back up. Then he pulls ahead of Worf. Befuddled, I watch as Pepper slows moves up until the pair of dogs ahead of Worf becomes three dogs wide. What?… Pepper keeps moving up the team like a long distance runner. Now he is two pair up. Light dawns. His tug line is loose (he doesn’t wear a neckline). Stop the team and Pepper stops with the others. Get off the quad and walk up the team. Pepper walks up as I do. He stops beside the leader with a quizzical “Now what?” look on his face. “Pepper”, “Pepper”. He looks back bemused and walks down the team to me. I hook him back up beside Worf and he starts slamming his harness and screaming to run. Funny dog .

We finish the run strong. Strider starts to trash talk Dukat and I move him to the truck to keep the peace. I lay out the dishes on the ground in two groups and fill them with kibble. When they are done I add water and give to the dogs. Setting out the second set, Blaze and Thyme in lead start complaining. Strider has gotten lose and is eating from the first 8 dishes I set out and filled. Typically he eats with great vim and vigor (I’ve got to use those names!), but he looks confused, taking a bite from this dish, then a bite from that one. He is kind of randomly working his way through the set. Silly dog.

Now I remember why I do this. Therapy! The dogs make me laugh.

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric