Broken Trails

Putting her notes away, she checked her watch as they headed back into a valley. Two hours had passed. Conceivably, she was nearing the halfway point of this stretch. Her dogs looked healthy and strong as they loped down the trail. Originally she had planned to take another six hour break at Elim, but she began to wonder if she could push through to Golovin instead, only another twenty-six miles beyond. She took her notes back out to study.

The wind picked up some more as they descended, becoming more fierce than when she had started. Weather reports had not indicated gusts of this strength. She realized they ran into a small river valley and that it was a natural wind tunnel. The trail ahead was blown out in some places, and her dogs began to slow as they forged their way through.

Her visibility was still good, regardless of the wind plucking at her parka and gear. It was strong enough in some places that she felt the sled shudder, the wind coming from her right rather than from behind. Stopping was not suggested in her notes. Besides she had no idea if the wind would die down or not. She could be waiting quite some time before it mellowed enough to make her run easy. There was a cabin indicated on the other side of the river she crossed and she considered stopping.

No. They were nearly at the halfway point and any delay would take a bite out of her standings. That rookie was still back there and she knew that a couple of other mushers had gotten the jump on her at the last checkpoint. Another scan of her dogs showed them strong and solid. They would push on through.

The Kwik River lay before them, and the team crossed with ease. Within a mile or two, the trail turned so that the wind blew more up their back than crossways, and Lainey breathed a sigh. Even her dogs seemed happier, their tails wagging a bit more as they no longer fought every step of the way. They dropped back onto sea ice. The Moses Point beacon blinked ahead of her and her team pressed forward on the smooth and straight trail. Even the false menace of cracking sea ice did not faze Lainey now, pleased to be out of the wind tunnel. Soon even that threat to her equilibrium was gone as they climbed back onto shore.

Old Elim was ahead, abandoned for whatever reasons and converted into a fishing camp. They passed old buildings boarded up for winter, but in the darkness of dawn, Lainey thought she saw a light shining in one of the cabins. Did people come out here for the race? The wind nipped at her heels and her team continued on, leaving the near ghost village to whatever brave soul preferred the solitude.

More buildings ahead, the Moses Point station, also abandoned. As the sky lightened toward dawn, Lainey could make out towers in the distance. The one beacon blinked on and on. Once she passed the last of them, the trail turned onto a road.

The wind had blown the road bare in spots. Lainey was glad the gravel here was not as devastating to her runners as the one outside the Unalakleet checkpoint. Still, the ride was a rough one, and she directed the dogs to the shoulder where at least some snow remained.

Flat lands gave way to a steady climb. The snow here was packed and she jumped off the runners to run along with the dogs until they reached the summit. It was not as difficult as the three step series of the Blueberry Hills to Shaktoolik, but this was a tough climb nonetheless. As they struggled, Lainey realized that coming through before dawn was the perfect time. She shed her parka to keep from sweating. She did not envy the others coming behind her who arrived in the heat of the afternoon; their dogs would suffer the consequences by overheating.

At the summit, she hopped back aboard the sled and they began a leisurely descent. She saw the lights of Elim and checked her watch. It was after eight in the morning; they had been on this stretch of trail for just over five hours. The leg to Golovin was only twenty-eight miles. Should she snack the dogs and blow through, or take the six hour break she was scheduled? Had she come through in the afternoon, waiting for nightfall would have been the plan to give the dogs a chance to cool down. Such was not the case and her team looked ready for bear.

The checkpoint was a state run maintenance garage. Lainey pulled up and signed in.

“Staying?”

“Nope. Blowing through.”

The checker nodded and made a notation. “Had a good run then?”

“Better than some,” Lainey said.

Once the vet checked her dogs, she picked up her food drop. That would see her through to White Mountain. It seemed silly to have a food drop at Golovin which was such a short distance away. Between Elim and White Mountain was the one small checkpoint and only fifty miles so she had not sent anything to the Golovin checkpoint.

After the drop was packed, she went up the line with treats, booties and ointment, moving on automatic as she greeted each animal with affection and food. She ascertained the health of each dog, heaping praise upon their furry heads. Even Bonaparte, who did the totally unexpected and licked her face. Lainey blinked at him in shock but didn’t press the issue, not wanting to get his back up. He must be as tired as she was to have allowed his regal manner to slip.

She brought the team back to the checkpoint.

“Lainey Hughes!”

A volunteer skidded forward, holding a white envelope, and Lainey smiled.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Lainey,

Remember our twenty-four in McGrath? When I woke up, I was wrapped around you and couldn’t help myself. I’ve dreamed of holding you like that for months. I can’t wait for you to meet me in Nome.

Our room is tucked into the back of Beth’s house. I’m looking forward to sharing the bed with you. No parents, no little brothers or sisters, no dogs, no race to prepare for. Just you and me in our private hideaway.

I don’t plan on stopping next time.

Hurry!

Scotch

SWALLOWING HARD, LAINEY gripped the handlebars of her sled. Her knees felt weak from the rush of arousal pulsing through her system. No matter how tired she was when she arrived, she vowed to get a shower and brush her teeth before going to bed. There was no way she would have the will power to interrupt Scotch waking her again.

She carefully put Scotch’s latest note with the others and stomped upon her rampaging libido. Now was not the time to be sidetracked. With some effort, she forced herself to pay attention to the trail.

They promptly headed back out onto sea ice. Even with the deep booming crack she heard, Lainey did not falter. She had more important things to consider, like getting to Nome and jumping Scotch Fuller’s bones at her first opportunity.

“Stop that!” she said aloud, smirking. Samson grinned at her from his position, used to her occasional outbursts after so long on the trail. She smiled back at him.

After only a couple of miles, the trail pushed inland and upward. The climb was a gradual one at first and the added forest helped cut the wind. In fact, as they mushed along, Lainey could almost imagine they were back at home on one of the trails she was familiar with. Protected from wind, the trail was not drifted over and they made good time. Two miles further on they pulled out of the treeline and reached the top of a ridge.

Lainey’s notes specified ‘Great View,’ sharply underlined. Since they were on level ground, she called the dogs to a halt. Granted, they had not really gone far, but she gave them a small snack anyway. She was already considering blowing through Golovin, too, and pushing through to White Mountain. Better to give the team frequent rest breaks now than exhaust them before the end of this run.

As they snapped up the white fish, she looked out over the scenery, glad it was daylight with good visibility. The sky held a hefty dose of cloud cover, but there were occasional bald spots of blue. Scotch was right; it was a good view. In fact, Lainey thought she could see a musher on the ice in the distance. She got out her camera and took a photograph, then caught one of her dogs resting and watching her. Putting it away, she pulled the snow hook.