Mike Dillingham - Alaska Dogs and Iditarod Mushers - The Adventures of Balto, Back of the Pack, Honor Bound, Rivers

“Sometimes, Christmas, it is better to think with your heart and not with your head.” I said. “Sometimes our heads do not let us see the purity of the issue that our hearts know is there.”

In a very soft and gentle voice, Christmas asked me, “Do you believe that you have a Guardian Angel Dog?”

I answered, “What I believe should not matter to you. What I believe should not affect whether you believe the dream was a dream or real, as your babies say it is. However, I will tell you that I believe Sandy is in a place where if I am in trouble she will help me.”

When I stopped talking, Christmas started to speak. Her voice was relaxed and she sounded relieved. I bet she had made her decision. “Uncle Rivers, you make a lot of sense. Thank you.” Then I heard her turn to her pups and say, “Time to go and clean up the doghouses.”

As I heard them scamper off, I smiled to myself as I remembered that Sandy used to say the same words to Christmas when she was a puppy!

Mike is not a racer. He mushes us for fun. Nevertheless, he knows that since we are all retired racers, and experienced the thrill of racing, we never lost the desire to race. So, we hoped that when racing season came around, Mike would consider racing us. Nitro reminded us that Mike had said he was getting another dog or two to fill out the team for the racing season. Yes, the summer was a long season of anticipation for snow and the race season.

I bet you can imagine how excited we were when Mike told us he was going to race us in the Sourdough 120. Well, I was excited. Nitro was ecstatic! While this race is not as long as we were used to, it is a race and that was all that counted.

The Sourdough 120 was a race done in two segments: 60 miles one way, an overnight stop at the checkpoint and then the 60 miles back to the start. It was a novice or beginners’ race since there was a lot of supervision on the trail. It was an open class race, which meant that there was no age limit. You only needed at least ten dogs, a sled, some gear, and the desire to have some fun.

Some experienced racers used the Sourdough as a tune-up for bigger races. Others used it to check out their dogs. Some mushers used the race to decide if they really wanted to be racers. And then there were mushers like Mike, who would do this race for their dogs. Yep, Mike was giving us what might be our final chance to compete, and the only time he might race with us. Wow, this was going to be special.

Wait a minute. We only had seven dogs: my five teammates, Christmas, and me. So you can bet that I was relieved when Mike told us that he planned to run Sky, Tundra and Storm. Sure, the pups were young, but they had six very experienced uncles who would not only train them but also take care of them on the trail. While Christmas had never raced, she had proved herself on the trails. Yes, this was going to be a fun run, a family fun run. While only the pups and Christmas were related, we considered ourselves a family. Besides, you know what they say, “The family that runs the trails together has fun together!”

So now we had our team, the ten dogs we needed to enter the Sourdough. We had our sled, the new one that Mark at the Grateful Sled had hand made for us. In addition, Mike owned all of the equipment we needed to run this race.

I must admit that I was surprised to see how determined Mike was to get us ready for this race. Each day we ran farther and farther on the trail until we were doing very long runs. Then Mike took us to train on the actual race trail. We all took our turn running lead and became familiar with the race trail. Sometimes we did overnight trips to get used to being out and getting our break-camp routine down pat.

The pups, Tundra, Storm and Sky were doing very well. Lakota told me that you could see the pride in Christmas’ face. She knew her babies were growing up to be fine sled dogs.

Doc told me that the pups looked exceptionally strong and ran very well. Yes, they made us proud. Too bad they were a bit too young to realize that they were a true credit to their Husky heritage.

And my buddies, Nitro, Doc, Lakota, Brownie and Ugly, were running like young dogs, excited to race and compete, listening for and obeying Mike’s commands, perfectly. Yes, I was proud of my buddies. We were a team! A good team. A team that would not let Mike down.

Many times Randy came with us. Mike would run the team out and Randy would run us back home. Mike did this so that we would not become solely dependent on him, but rather on each other, thus functioning better as a team.

Randy was young and becoming a very good musher. He loved to mush and took very good care of us on the trail. Randy gained more and more confidence with each run. Moreover, that confidence was not just limited to his mushing, but also affected his schoolwork and writing. His stories improved with each one he wrote. Many times when we camped out, he would read his stories to us. Randy was becoming very much like Mike when it came to us. He talked to us and gave us great ear rubs. He cared for us and he was our buddy. We all liked him. We hoped that someday Mike would let Randy race us. As it turned out, that day came sooner than we would ever have imagined.

The day was perfect for training. We were in our team positions with Doc and Christmas in lead. Sky and Stormy were in the swing position. Lakota and I were in the wheel position. Nitro, Brownie, Ugly, and Tundra were team dogs. Mike loaded the sled with all of the equipment and food needed for an overnight trip. He told us we were going far up the trail, past the planned race checkpoint. We would camp overnight, and then head on back. This would be a good tune-up for the race, which was only a few weeks away.

Mike was on the runners and Randy was in the basket. We were comfortable in our stride. We were working together as one, an extension of Mike running the team. Lakota was telling me all about the trail. He said that the trail was becoming narrower.

I smelled it just as Mike yelled, “Team Stop!” We stopped as Mike said, “Randy, get out of the basket and stand behind the sled.” Then I heard Mike unzip the sled bag.

Bear is what I smelled. Lakota told me that a huge bear was blocking the trail. It was eating and we had disturbed it. Nitro added that the bear was very upset that we were in its territory, especially when it was eating. Nitro also mentioned that there was no way to get around the bear, and he was approaching us.

Lakota told me that Mike had his gun and was in front of the lead dogs. I heard him fire one shot. Lakota told that the shot hit the ground between the bear’s legs. A warning shot. It did not work. Doc said that it only served to aggravate the bear. It kept on coming towards us.

“Randy,” Mike said. “Cut the dogs loose and head them back down the trail.”

“But Mister Mike.”

“No buts, Randy. Just do it.”

I heard Randy cut the main gang line and call Doc, Christmas and the pups to him, I felt the gang line pull taut as the dogs made a U turn and headed back down the trail.

“I’m not going. It was Nitro. “Me too.” That was Brownie. Doc and Ugly joined in and so did Lakota. I would stand with Mike also.

“Team. Go.” Mike said. No, we stayed. Lakota told me that Randy was confused but cut the gang line again by Doc and moved Christmas with her pups behind the sled.

The bear kept coming down the trail toward us. We started to bark, but it kept on coming. Then I heard Mike’s gun. Bam, Bam. But the bear kept coming. Bam. Bam. Lakota told me that Mike shot the bear four times but the bear kept coming and was almost on top of Mike. Bam, another shot. I heard the bear fall down.

Ugly said that the bear clobbered Mike and knocked him down before Mike got off the last shot.