Broken Trails

Standing on the brakes seemed to help. At least her first wheel dogs did not appear to be in danger of imminent crushing. It did not slow her enough, however, and she screwed her eyes nearly closed as she approached the jury-rigged barrier at breakneck speed. At the proper moment, she leapt to her left runner, pulling with all her might to compensate for the whiplash effect. Then she was on the next section of trail. She felt a fleeting moment of relief before jumping back onto the brake bar. Fifty yards ahead, another dead end appeared. This one seemed a little less dangerous if the sparser amount of caution tape was any indication, but Lainey knew from her notes that the cliff on the other side was still a fifty foot drop. Her leaders arrived at the turn.

“Gee!”

They took the turn with smooth precision, and she felt a burble of pleasure at their elegance before preparing for her part of the journey. She hopped onto the right runner and pulled. The sled tipped left, despite her counter balance, and she felt a moment of sheer terror as the runner she stood on lifted off the trail.

She was through the turn and the sled thumped back to the ground. Heart in her throat, she swore a blue streak for the next fifty yards. The next bend came and she ordered the turn, easily negotiating it until she came onto a somewhat level surface.

“Whoa!” she called, seeing Scotch ahead waiting for her. As soon as her dogs came to a halt, Lainey gratefully set the snow hook. She took two steps away from her sled, her knees trembling from a combination of exertion and adrenaline, and flopped into a snow bank.

Scotch laughed and whooped. She trotted up to Lainey and grabbed her hands, forcing her back to her feet. “You did it! I told you!”

Lainey’s fear faded, replaced with a flush of pride and exhilaration as Scotch hugged her. “I almost lost it on the second turn,” she admitted. She looked back up the side of the canyon, awed by the height she had just traversed at breakneck speeds. “My runner left the trail completely. I thought for sure I was going to tip over.”

Cuffing Lainey’s shoulder, Scotch released her. “You didn’t balance the load when you packed it, did you?”

No matter how hard she tried, Lainey could not feel chagrin at her mistake. She had taken on the Happy River descent and survived! Her grin was cheeky as she said, “Nope. But it’s a lesson learned!”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.” Scotch stepped back. “Let’s snack the dogs and get out of here. Someone could be right behind us, and there’s no room to get off the trail until Puntilla Lake.”

“Yes, coach.”

The dogs were still well rested from their break. As Lainey fed them moose liver, they frisked in the snow, picking up her excitement as she showered them with praise. She paused only long enough to get her camera out and take a few pictures of the canyon wall. Then they were ready to go.

They mushed along, following the Yentna River. The river had not frozen solid here, and Lainey could see standing water on the ice as well as running water through occasional gaps. She wondered if anyone had fallen in, but saw no sled tracks near the holes. She supposed it happened sometimes, though not so far today. Lainey shivered in sympathy with anyone suffering such a fate.

The trail began to climb again, the hill to her right steepening until they traversed a narrow ridge. Ahead she saw Scotch apparently leaning on her right runner as they went around a corner, and she followed suit. The path tilted down to Lainey’s left, rising above open water on the river, and she compensated for the angle. Regardless, she felt a faint tremor of movement sideways and she called frantically to her team, “Let’s go! Let’s go!”

Her team put on a burst of speed, loping across what Lainey now realized was a twenty foot ridge of ice. Before her sled could slide off the path, the dogs had her past the danger. For second time in an hour, she gripped her handlebars in an effort to remain standing. Good God, what would the Farewell Burn be like?

Lainey drew herself back to the task at hand, seeing the trail incline sharply. In reaction to the extreme climb, her team slowed, and she forced her shaking legs from the runners. The exercise helped burn off the excess adrenaline, and soon her legs were steady as she pushed the sled up Happy Hill. It was with great relief that they reached the peak and came onto a level path.

She breathed a sigh as the trail broke into a meadow for a short bit. It seemed she had been running forever, but the trail between checkpoints was only thirty miles distant. Before Lainey could become too complacent, however, she watched Scotch disappear into another steep descent.

More caution signs met her gaze as she dipped down. The trail twisted back and forth, but no switchbacks were forthcoming. She easily held the sled back on the sharp slope, her dogs running easy and heeding her commands as they went. At the bottom of the descent, she came out along Puntilla Lake.

The wide expanse of level ground elated Lainey. The worst of this leg was over. It was smooth sailing to Rainy Pass Lodge from here. To celebrate, Scotch had pulled off the well-marked trail to snack her dogs.

When Lainey stopped, Scotch walked back to her, a wide grin on her face. “Take off your cap,” she said.

“What?” Lainey removed her musher’s cap. “Why?”

“This is from Mom.” Scotch held up a knit stocking hat of bright green. On it was a huge yellow smiley face wearing its own musher’s cap, the flaps dangling on either side. The words written beside the face proudly proclaimed ‘I Survived Happy River.’ Scotch pulled it onto Lainey’s head until it covered her ears.

Lainey laughed, dragging it off her head to get a better look. “That’s priceless! Where did she get it?”

Scotch shrugged. “Don’t know. But she wanted me to put it in my food drop so I could give it to you after you made it through.”

She put the hat back on, and stuck her musher cap into her personal bag. “Thanks.”

This time they snacked themselves as well as the dogs, filling up on trail mix, crackers, and buttered pumpkin bread. Lainey finished the last of her now lukewarm coffee and drank a thawed Gatorade. She grimaced as she watched Scotch eat a half stick of butter right from the package.

“Yuck.”

Scotch wrapped the second half in its paper. “Says you. At least I won’t be freezing my butt off like you.”

Lainey grimaced in answer. She heard noises and looked back at the trail behind them. “Sounds like somebody else is coming.”

Standing, Scotch squinted up the hillside looking for the trail. “They’re coming mighty fast. Wonder if it’s a rookie.”

In answer a team of dogs burst through onto the level trail. It took a few moments for Lainey to realize that there was no musher on the sled. She stood up, mouth open, not certain what she should do as the team headed toward their position.

“Whoa!” Scotch called, stepping out into the trail. “Whoa! Lainey! See if you can get onto the sled as it passes.”

Lainey dropped the detritus of her snacks onto her sled bag, adrenaline once again pumping through her system.

The new team heeded Scotch’s command and slowed down as they neared, but did not stop. Frisky and excited, they trotted toward Scotch, making the sled an easy enough target for Lainey to board. She ordered them to halt, firmly stepping onto the brake to further impede their progress. By the time Scotch got hold of the leaders’ collars, they had come to a full stop and were rolling in the snow to cool off.

“Now what?”

Scotch looked around their immediate area. “Let’s get them over there,” she said, indicating a stand of sturdy trees. “We can tie them there until their musher shows up.”