Broken Trails

Grumbling, she forced herself through the process. Her dogs did not even move an ear at the familiar sounds and smells of dinner. She grinned ruefully at them, wishing she could simply drop into their straw and sleep as well.

The first batch went into their cooler, and she started another. Opening her cooler, she saw her last two thawed juice packs. As much as she wanted to chuck them into a snow bank, she forced herself to drink them. Why had she ever thought these juices tasted good? After days and days of nothing else, she vowed to never drink the stuff again.

When the second batch of food finished cooking, she fed her team. She was reluctant to disturb their sleep, but they needed the nourishment to keep warm. At each one, she prodded and petted until they were awake enough to eat. Only Samson and Aegis refused, giving her bleary looks. As much as she wanted to, Lainey did not push the issue. Both of them were wheel dogs and had an extra amount of work to do during a run. Hopefully they would eat when they woke later.

She collected their bowls and ate a delicious meal of meatloaf and fried potatoes. It was the first decent meal she had had since the last checkpoint, and it was heavenly. She polished off another slice of pizza and three banana breads, as well.

Sated and becoming more groggy as time passed, she trudged back to the checkpoint with her wet gear and sleeping bag. Soon her things hung in the overly warm boiler room and she bedded down in the sleeping area.

Lainey’s alarm beeped in her ear and she groaned in frustration. She had just gotten to sleep! It could not be time to get up yet!

She shut the damned thing off and peered closely at the numerals. Crap. It was time to get up. It took a monstrous effort of will to drag herself out of the sleeping bag, but she succeeded. Gathering her things and collecting two more pots of water, she staggered out into the cold morning and toward her dogs.

The break had done them a world of good, just as the veterinarian had said. Only Aegis remained sluggish and distant. Samson eagerly demolished his breakfast, as did the rest of them, and inhaled his second watering. Sholo was somewhat subdued, but he seemed to have gotten over whatever moodiness had transpired against him on the trail. Their lifted spirits eased Lainey’s trepidations and she gave them all extra lovings.

According to the ratings inside the checkpoint, she was doing fairly well. She currently led the rookies at nineteenth place, an almost unheard of lead for someone with so little training and experience. She was sure the only reason Roman Spencer was not in the lead was because of whatever befell him on the trail to Ruby. Of course, she still had two hundred seventy-five miles to go before Nome. Anything could happen between here and there.

Scotch sat at sixth place and en route to White Mountain. It looked like she was riding in a pack of eight mushers, veterans all, with barely five or ten minutes difference between their times out of Golovin. Once at White Mountain, she would take her second mandatory eight hour break and then make the push for Nome.

She sent a silent cheer to her favorite musher.

Food and caffeine had revived her, too, and she unloaded her food drop into her sled. Discarded items went into shipping envelopes for return to the kennel, perishables to the donations pile near the checkpoint, and trash to its designated section of the parking area. Lainey frisked with the dogs, getting them excited for the next leg of the journey. If they could keep up this pace, she could be in Nome as early as two days from now.

Aegis refused to be cheered from her inactivity. While even Sholo wagged his tail, she sprawled on her share of straw. Lainey fussed over the dog, her mood rapidly sinking. With much coaxing, she finally got Aegis to stand, but the dog grunted with the effort and sat as soon as Lainey stepped away. A careful massage of her shoulder caused a slight whimper and Lainey understood the problem. Whatever damage was done to the muscle, the cold wind had made it worse.

With a sigh, she disconnected Aegis from the tug line and attached a drop cable to her collar. They would all miss her sweet demeanor, but running her into the ground would not them closer to Nome. It was with heavy heart that Lainey gave the dog and the necessary paperwork over to the checkpoint volunteers.

Lainey mushed her team to the trail to check out.

“Watch out. The wind’s are pretty bad,” the checker said, offering her his clipboard to sign.

“Yeah?” she asked, glancing at Sholo who was back in the lead. His ears were back, but he remained on his feet, pulling the team into line with Trace.

“Yup. Wind chill’s pretty low, too. It was minus twelve at midnight.”

Lainey had gotten in just before midnight and she shivered in memory. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“You bet! Hang in there, you’re almost done.”

“Ready? Let’s go.”

The team started at a walk but made it less than twenty feet before Sholo sat down.

Lainey sighed. “Sholo, ready.” He stood. “Let’s go.”

Another twenty feet, and he stopped again.

She slumped. Obviously he had not gotten over his aversion to the wind blowing up his snout.

Lainey set her snow hook and walked up the trail to her leader. She could tell he knew of her disappointment by the way he lowered to his belly by the time she reached him. “It’s okay, boy, it’s not your fault. You’ve done a great job until now.” She scratched behind his ears and released him from the tug line. On her way back to the checkpoint, she stopped at the sled for a dropped dog cable.

As the sun began to brighten the gray skies, she and her team followed the trail to Shaktoolik minus two dogs instead of one.

The next few miles of trail paralleled the coastal road but did not ride upon it. Snow plows kept the gravel surface clear of snow and ice. It looked to Lainey that the ride across those rocks would slice up her runners far worse than the bald spots that had messed up Roman Spencer.

With a fresh leader in front, the team picked up speed again. They traveled at an easy gait - not too fast and not tediously slow. Montana swaggered next to Trace, occasionally looking over his shoulder at his team mates as if to say, “Look at me! I’m running this show now!” Lainey thought Trace showed remarkable restraint regarding his new partner’s expanding ego. She hoped Montana could make it the rest of the way in that position. These two were her last leaders and Montana had never been in front for longer than a few hours. None of the other dogs had the aptitude, that special talent needed to keep the team on the proper trail.

Markers guided the team further inland on an ascent. She dug out her notes for this section, swearing as she realized she had not done so before leaving Unalakleet. Not mentally preparing for what they lay ahead of them was as stupid as falling asleep on the trail. Muttering under her breath she found the proper passage and read along. Three hills to climb before they passed over the Blueberry Hills, and the third was one of the most difficult in the second half of this race. She wondered what the first one was. Had she already passed it without knowing? Would this be as anti climatic as the Farewell Burn?

They only rose to about three hundred feet before following an easy descent back to sea level. Knowing Scotch’s idea of serious trail issues, Lainey doubted that had been one of the three hills mentioned. The trail took them closer to the coast and through a fishing camp huddled against the brisk wind. There they crossed a creek with some overflow and turned back inland.

A steep incline loomed before the team, and Lainey reckoned this was the true first of the three hills. Despite the sheer slope, it was only another three hundred foot in height. Her dogs took it at a run and easily reached the top with her pushing from behind.