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

I heard Randy crawl into his sleeping bag, and then both Nitro and Lakota lay down near Randy, probably curled up to him.

It was a peaceful dream. I was lying on fresh straw with a gentle breeze keeping the mosquitoes from bothering me. That is, it was peaceful until Tundra’s barking woke me. I stood up, as did every other dog in the team. I heard footsteps. They stopped. Ugly told me that first Tundra and then Doc were barking in the direction of the woods across the trail from us. There was someone or something out there. Let me rephrase that… someone.

“Who is out there?” a voice yelled. No, it was not Randy’s voice; he was being very quiet. There was no answer. I heard the footsteps get softer as they faded away into the night. I told the team that whoever it was had left our area.

“Tunny.” It was Doc. “You did very good job young lady, warning us about the stranger in the woods. I bet you saved us.”

“You okay Tundra?” It was her mother, Christmas. “Oh yes, Momma, I heard someone or something walking towards us. I did not recognize the scent, so I knew it was not Musher Stan or Musher GB. So I started to bark.”

“As Uncle Doc said, you did a very good job. Now settle down Tundra, and get some rest. Tomorrow will be a big day.”

“Yes Momma, good night,” Tundra said. You knew she was just beaming with pride that her Uncle Doc and her mother told her she did a good thing.

The rest of the night was uneventful and I figured it was first light when Randy got up, fixed us some hot chow, and got the team and gear ready for the run home. We heard other teams talk about a dog and some equipment that were missing. I wondered if Tundra’s barking saved us from an unexpected and unwanted visitor. I bet Randy’s circle not only protected him and us, but also confused the visitor. The intruder would expect a stung-out dog team, not a circle of dogs.

We broke camp and started back down the trail. We now entered our racing mode. The trail was fast and we raced along at a good pace. The hours and miles melted away. None of us was tiring. We actually were getting stronger, anticipating the finish of this race.

Lakota told me that the trail was wide enough for two dog teams to pass each other. So when another team came up behind us, I was not surprised that Randy did not move over to let them pass. What did surprise me was that the musher stayed behind us and yelling insults at Randy.

Why would a musher not want to pass us, and continue to insult Randy? Dylan!! It had to be him. Wanting to cause trouble, and try to steal our equipment. Maybe even steal one of us.

This was becoming scary.

Randy slowed us down a bit to let the other team pass. Randy probably thought the other musher just wanted to pass. Randy did not know what Dylan looked like.

Doc told us that the trail narrowed about a quarter mile up the trail, and we had about 2 miles to the finish line. Either this team had to pass us now or else one of teams would be run off the trail.

I heard the other team pick up speed and Lakota told me that the team was coming up even with us. Lakota told me that the dogs on the other team were in bad shape. I heard the anger in his voice. He did not have to say it, but I knew they were abused.

Doc told us that the musher had a jiggle stick with a strap on it and he was swinging it at Randy! He missed, but took another swipe at Randy’s head.

Doc told us that the strap wrapped around Randy’s arm. Randy held on to the strap as he yelled, “Banshee”. We took off and the sudden jerk of our team pulled the other musher off his sled. Doc told us the trail was narrowing, but soon we were way ahead of the other team. Randy started to slow us down and I thought he was going to stop us so that he could help the other team’s dogs. But we heard Musher Stan’s voice yell to Randy. “Finish the race. I saw what happened and will take care of Dylan, his team and the missing dog.” Fin told us that Musher Stan was driving his team up behind us. He was following us down the trail

Fin and Christmas were doing a fine job of leading. Ugly was telling jokes to the pups and Nitro said, to no dog in particular, “Did you see what Randy did? Now that was a smart move.” Yes, it was a very smart move. Randy must have known that the strap would not hurt him since his storm suit would protect him from it. Randy held onto the strap and started to pull on it as he yelled for us to take off down the trail. The sudden forward movement, plus the fact that Dylan was probably off balance on his sled runners, caused Dylan to fall off of his sled.

We entered the finish chute and I heard Mike come up beside the team. “Whoa,” Randy called out, telling us to stop. We did, and Fin told me that Mike grabbed the neckline between Fin and Christmas and guided us to our staging spot. I smelled the scent of our truck; it was there waiting to take us home. After the race officials checked out our equipment, I knew Mike or Randy would gave us a snack and some water, before loading us into the dog box to go home.

There was a lot of commotion and I heard that Musher Stan came in with Dylan in his basket and Dylan’s sled in tow. Musher Stan talked to Musher GB and told him what had happened on the trail. Musher Stan said that the missing dog was tied into Dylan’s team and the missing equipment was in Dylan’s sled basket. All of the missing equipment had the owner’s name on it.

“Hmmm,” said Musher GB, “I think we need the troopers. Sounds like we have a thief. And it looks like he beat these dogs again.”

Good, the missing dog was found and the stolen equipment would be retuned to its owner. I was sure that the troopers would take care of Dylan.

After we got our snacks and water, we rested a bit while Randy told Mike about the race. Mike kept telling Randy how smart he was for using the circle, and glad that the magic word helped. Mike told Randy that the dogs looked great after the race and even Doc looked good. “I am glad you pulled him, Randy, I was concerned about him.” Mike said.

Then Mike said, “Okay, Let’s get these critters back into the dog box and head on home. We have all had enough excitement for a while.”

Now, we have a routine for this. Mike or Randy takes off our harnesses and allows us to wander back to the truck. That is, all but me. I walk with Mike, right by his side. He gives me commands so I do not bump into anything. I knew Randy would let Nitro and Lakota go next. Remember, we have a routine.

“Where is that punk that pulled my boy off his sled? I want to teach him a lesson,” a voice yelled.

We all stopped. Lakota told me that a very big human was blocking Mike’s way to the truck. Nitro told Lakota to stay with him beside Randy, in case this human wanted to harm Randy.

Christmas told me that the man had a knife, and to be careful.

Mike nudged me with his knee as he moved back a step or two. This was trouble.

“Who are you?” Mike asked with a lot of calmness in his voice.

“I am Rufus Crawford, Dylan’s dad, and I want to teach that punk a lesson.”

“Mister Crawford,” Mike said, “I do not believe you are going to teach anyone a lesson right now, especially that boy you keep referring to as a punk. I heard that your boy stole a dog and some equipment and was beating his dogs on the trail. Dylan attacked the boy by my sled and that boy only protected himself. I also understand that your boy is a lot bigger and older than the boy by my sled.”

“Lies, lies,” Mister Crawford said as he pushed Mike down. I jumped up to protect Mike and felt the knife slash me. I went down.

“Rivers!” Mike yelled as I heard Nitro and Lakota charge Mister Crawford. Christmas told me as I was laying in the snow that Nitro grabbed the hand with the knife in it so, Mister Crawford could not slash out with it, and Lakota knocked Mister Crawford down into the snow. Christmas told me that Lakota then put one of his big paws by Mister Crawford’s throat and growled at the human. I could picture this in my mind. The human looking up into the face of a very big, growling and sneering dog who was very upset. I guess that is why the human stopped moving. Of course, having another very big, powerful and upset dog clamped down on your wrist does not leave you too much choice, does it?