Broken Trails

The wind buffeted them as they remained on the ridge for a mile or more. Then they dropped back onto the coastal side and past another creek. A little further on, the trail turned into a sheltered valley where stunted trees grew. Protected from the wind, Lainey sighed in relief, having not realized how tense she had been until its absence. Her face tingled with false warmth, but she did not remove her mask. Being out of the wind chill was nice, but the temperature was still at or just below zero.

Lainey was almost to the halfway point of this leg. It was only about forty miles long, a vacation compared to the trip to Unalakleet. She called her team to a halt and snacked them. Better to do it now while they were leeward.

The next climb was almost as steep as the last, and twice the distance. Her dogs did her proud, clambering to the top with little trouble. Again they dropped down the other side, losing all the altitude they had gained to skate past another frozen creek. Lainey was beginning to get irritated. It would be far easier to deal with the wind on the coast than this constant up and down. If that was the second hill, she still had the mother of all hills in front of her.

The third loomed before her and she began the ascent. The climb was steady but uneven. In various areas of the lower half it seemed near vertical; in others the gradual slant gave her and the team a breather. Trees scattered here and there where the wind was less, but the higher they went, the fewer pockets of calm were available.

In a spot bare of vegetation, the incline dramatically steepened. When Lainey’s feet hit the trail to help get the sled up, she sank ankle deep in drifted snow.

“Crap!” She urged the dogs on until they slogged through the mess, and she realized that Montana and Trace were chest deep in some places.

Once they were through the worst of it and they found a somewhat level place to halt, Lainey put on her snow shoes and worked her way up the line. She gave each dog attention, encouragement, and a chunk of moose liver before finally taking the lead. Since drifts only threatened the trail in the bald spots, it meant going slower over the protected snow pack, but she would rather be in the lead than have to run up and down the line the next couple of hours. It was time to break trail to the summit of this damned hill.

There were two more steep climbs, both badly drifted. Lainey was glad she had made the decision to be in front. In some cases, the snow might have buried her smaller team dogs. For every step they took, she took three, stomping back and forth across the trail to make it firm. Despite the wind chill, she felt sweat beading on her forehead from the exertion. Not wanting to court hypothermia on top of her fatigue, she shed her parka and tied the arms of it around her waist.

When they crested what appeared to be the summit, Lainey’s elation was dashed. The trail dropped into a steep ravine and rose again beyond. “God damn it!” she yelled. “Does this thing never end?”

She turned to look at her dogs, Trace and Montana flinching away from her anger, and she slumped.

“Sorry, guys,” she apologized, easing forward to calm them. “It’s not you I’m mad at.” She petted and scratched, studying the rest of the team. They all sat where they stopped, conserving energy. At least they did not appear demoralized like Sholo had been before she dropped him.

“All right. Ready?”

Pleased with her attention, her leaders stood and chivvied their mates into position. The others stood up and shook themselves off.

“Let’s go.”

Lainey led them down into the short ravine. She had to run to keep ahead of the dogs, an awkward shuffle since she wore snow shoes. Her wheel dogs had a sled riding their asses, and the team needed to stay far enough ahead to keep them from being run over.

On the other side, the last bit of trail shot skyward and she tried to retain their speed as they climbed. That was impossible, of course, but they got several feet along before being forced to slow again.

At the summit, Lainey laughed aloud. They made it! The ever present wind plucked at her clothes, forcing her parka to billow from her waist. As much as she wanted to stop to congratulate her team and maybe get a photograph of the spectacular view, she knew they needed to get down.

“The worst is over, guys,” she said, walking back toward the sled. “A little further along and you’ll be chowing down on lunch.”

She put her parka back on and stashed her snow shoes. There would still be bits of trail that were over blown, but it was all downhill from here. “Let’s go!”

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

THE DESCENT WAS fast and icy, a dangerous combination. Trees lined the trail in several places, and Lainey had to stand on the brake and pad to keep from over running her dogs or losing control of the sled. The trail curved back and forth on top of it, creating a constant threat of tipping over or running into what trees were there. They hit the bottom hard and climbed a hundred foot ridge almost before they lost any speed.

On the other side of the ridge was the coast, the trail paralleling snow covered dunes. Somewhat level and with a fresh leader, her team picked up some speed. In a few places Lainey saw where other mushers had climbed out of the slough to ride on top of the dunes. The marked trail was visibly blown over in some places, and she decided to follow her predecessors’ more experienced lead, directing Trace and Montana to climb onto the crest of the dune.

Here the ride was smoother, but the wind was a constant irritant. According to her notes, it actually had less force than what it would be in a few hours. Apparently, the wind had a tendency to die down just after dawn and pick up in the late afternoons. Lainey dug out her watch. It was coming up on noon now. Without even trying she had chosen the perfect time to travel this way. She certainly hoped it would not pick up too much. Sometimes the gusts were so bad, mushers could not leave out of the next checkpoint.

In the distance, she saw buildings and grinned. Almost there! As her team neared the abandoned town of Shaktoolik, she sluggishly estimated her time on the trail. It had been four, maybe four and a half hours since they left Unalakleet. The next section of trail was to Koyuk, about sixty miles away. After the exhausting twelve hour stretch she had run the day before, she did not think it would be a good idea to forge past this checkpoint regardless of the threat of being forced to remain longer than planned. At the very least, the dogs needed a full meal in their bellies and a short nap. Lainey could only hope the winds would not gust too strongly in the afternoon.

She studied her team, searching for failing moods and energy levels. They all ran steady and strong. Montana still swaggered and Chibee loped along, snatching mouthfuls of snow to quench his thirst. All in all, they looked damned good, and Lainey felt tears stinging her eyes as her fatigue released control of her emotions. She laughed aloud at her maudlin feelings. Who needed to get drunk with liquor? Exhaustion created the same sensations, it appeared, hallucinations included.

They passed the old town and more buildings became visible ahead. New Shaktoolik beckoned.

Lainey checked in at the National Guard Armory. Her team was guided around to the south side of the building, where the wind was less of a bother. She immediately fed the dogs and prepared them for sleep. The winds would be picking up when she planned to leave, but they really needed to rest a bit before the next section. She only planned on remaining for about four hours, hardly time for her to get any sleep at all.

Cold water was available, and she set about cooking up the next batch of food for her team and herself. She thawed the buttered rolls from Galena, fondly remembering Harris and the others who had donated butter and oil to her. It had lasted a lot longer than she had expected and was a welcome additive with this frigid wind. As much as she had wanted to get more, she had left Unalakleet before the stores opened. With some regret, she cut the last stick of donated butter into the dog chow along with the additives she had in her food drop. She still had a half gallon of cooking oil, but that would only last her another couple of stops.