Broken Trails

Their response was lukewarm at best. Only Chibee and Meshindi glanced over their shoulders. Everyone else continued to pull, flicking ears behind them to listen for further commands.

They moved at a fairly decent clip, but Lainey forced herself from the runners to trot with them. Every time they looked to get too far ahead, she jumped back aboard to catch her breath. The on again / off again weight probably did not help the dogs, but it kept her going a few more miles without falling apart.

The trail moved into open tundra broken by the occasional stretch of ragged trees. Here the wind began to blow harder, and Lainey was forced to put her face mask back on or risk frostbite. At least the exercise succeeded at waking her. Eventually, she remained on the sled long enough to dig out her warm pizza and eat. The added fuel forced drowsiness further away which was just as well. The trail meandered along crossing over flows and glaciers from the creek beds and river she paralleled.

Though the way appeared easier, her team began to slow. Lainey checked her watch. They were coming up on the nine hour mark, a good time to stop and take a breather. She called the dogs to a halt and went up the line with snacks, booties, and ointment.

Now stopped, she realized exactly how hard the wind was blowing. It was something they would all have to get used to, unfortunately. Coming out of the interior and onto the coast meant a lot more of the same. As she reached the front of her team, she noticed the trail had blown over in some places, drifts of snow impeding her leaders. No wonder they were slowing down. If thing continued this way, she would have to lead them herself to break the trail.

Her dogs were tired, evidenced by several of them promptly settling down for a nap. Even with hand warmers in her latex gloves, her fingers immediately numbed with the cold. She worked fast and efficient, rubbing ointment into their paws, checking for snow balls under their toes, and replacing wet booties with dry ones. Speaking to each animal, she teased and loved them, urging them to stay awake until they reached Unalakleet, which was only a couple of hours away.

“Ready.”

Trace stood and shook himself off, looking back at her in weariness.

“Ready, boy,” Lainey repeated. “We’re almost there.”

He yawned and took his place, tugging the other dogs into line. All but one followed his lead.

Grimacing, Lainey strode up the line. Taking Sholo’s collar, she pulled him to his feet and forced him into position next to Trace. He sat down, ears back and an expression of sorrow on his canine face. A gust of wind pushed past them, and he winced away from it, closing his liquid brown eyes.

“Come on, Sholo. Ready’” she urged. “Only a little longer and you can take a nap.”

Her leader was having none of it, ducking his head in shame. Whatever reserves of strength he had used to get this far were gone. She could tell he wanted to obey her, wanted to continue on, but the wind and cold and exhaustion had taken a toll on his confidence.

Lainey sighed in frustration and looked back down the line at the rest of the team. They sat or stood in place, watching to see what she would do. Bonaparte seemed to be smiling at her, his mocking grin indicating his thoughts of joining the mutiny. She petted Sholo, reminding herself that this was his first Iditarod. Regardless of how well he had done up to this point, he had never been on the trail for such an extended time. Being in the lead put special pressures on an animal, making it much more stressful than the other dogs on her team in a similar situation. If she didn’t do this right, she could break Sholo’s spirit, and that was unthinkable.

He looked so forlorn. “It’s okay, Sholo. Good boy,” she murmured, scratching his head. She quickly released him from the tug line, pausing only long enough to bring Montana up beside Trace. Then she walked Sholo back to the sled.

Soon he was wrapped in blankets, his neck line attached to one of the ribs of the sled, and Lainey tried again.

“Ready.”

Montana took his place with Trace, the other dogs rising from their resting places. Bonaparte stared speculatively at Lainey before standing as well, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t know if there would be room for two dogs in the sled.

“Let’s go.”

The team started forward.

They made slower time than she had hoped. Wind blew snow drifts into the trail at various intervals, forcing her dogs to slog through the mess. In a couple of places, Lainey strapped on her snow shoes and broke the trail anew for them. She had hoped for a ten hour run with the good weather, but it took more than twelve to arrive at the Covenant School gymnasium where the checkpoint was located. The last couple of miles were spent skating over glare ice and she could see her dogs’ collective relief as they arrived at civilization.

Lainey was covered in frost from the weather, and she peeled her face mask off to speak to the checker. “I’m taking an eight hour break here.”

He frowned, looking at her race statistics. “You’ve already taken your mandatory?” he asked.

“Yeah, but we didn’t stop between here and Kaltag. We’ll need the extra rest.”

Marking her time in on his sheet, he glanced at her listless team. “Looks like it. But, don’t worry. They’ll bounce back pretty quick.” He grinned at her. “Quicker than you most likely.”

Her chuckle was more hysteria than humor. “You’re probably right.”

The checker was replaced by the vets. While two examined the dogs on her tug line, one cornered her at her sled to check Sholo for injuries. The team was tired and Aegis, one of Lainey’s wheel dogs, appeared to have a slight strain in her left shoulder. She was told to double check Aegis before leaving.

“Nothing a nap won’t fix,” the vet said of Sholo. “And a good meal.”

“Are you sure? I’ve never had a dog balk on me like that.” At least not from exhaustion. Bonaparte’s foibles were a known hurdle.

“Yeah. He’s not hurt, just tired. Maybe the wind messed with him, too.” The vet glanced over Sholo’s paperwork. “Some dogs can’t make the transition from mountains and trees to the coast. Has he ever been over here before?”

“Not that I’m aware of, and he’s only run mid level races.”

The vet nodded and handed the paperwork back to Lainey. “It’ll be your call then. If he’s the type to freak at his surroundings, you might want to drop him here.”

“Thanks.”

Lainey followed her guides toward the parking area behind the school. She had been told that the checkpoint supplied hot water. Rather than break out the cookers, she gave her dogs a double dose of white fish, knowing they probably would not remain awake long enough for her to cook a proper meal. After their snack, she distributed straw and blankets, and removed booties, massaging tired paws. Once they were asleep, she grabbed her pots and her child’s sled.

Time to locate hot water and her food drops.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

IT WAS PAST midnight when Lainey entered the checkpoint. Despite the hour, several people loitered at the tables in the room, nursing coffee and eyeing the statistics board by the volunteer tables. Signs indicated where the boiler room, showers and sleeping room were located. The thought of a shower intrigued Lainey almost as much as the thought of Scotch laying naked in her bed. Snorting at how far she had fallen, she retrieved hot water for her dogs.

Back outside, her face no longer burning from the heat of the gym, she trudged back to her team. The wind was brisk and she realized upon her arrival that she would still need to break out the cookers. Her hot water had already cooled considerably, making it too cold to thaw the meat for her team.