Last weekend we competed in our first race of the season, the Sheep Mountain 150 (Allen, Aliy, and Bridgett raced. I handled). After months of training and preparation, the racing season has finally arrived. This is what we’ve been waiting for. The many hours on the back of a sled in below zero temperatures, the shovel full after shovel full of dog poop, the sorting and resorting of gear, the frustration of nothing working at forty below--- has all come down to this: Racing. Some folks might ask, “Why do you enjoy racing sled dogs?” But this is a question best left unanalyzed. No good will come of pondering why you paid money to drive a dog team at 3:00 in the morning after sleeping two hours when it’s -20 degrees and you can’t feel you fingers. The fact is we race because we want to. I’ll admit I don’t enjoy every second of a race, but something about working with dogs and overcoming the challenges Mother Nature can dish out makes racing surprisingly rewarding. And with maybe five people waiting at the finish line, it better not be for the glory.
At this particular race, I was handling for Allen, Aliy, and Bridgett. For those unfamiliar with sled dog racing, a handler is a person who assists the musher during a race by taking dropped dogs and helping manage run/rest times. Ironically, the term ‘handler’ could not be farther from the truth in a race setting. I do no ‘handling.’ I can’t even touch the dogs. I’m like a pit crew at Talladega that can’t touch the car, but instead says, “Hey Dale, it looks like you need to change your tires. You might want to do that.” The inactivity can be slightly frustrating when all I want to do is start rubbing down the dogs or help booty the team. Rather than “handler,” I should be called an “observer.”
Even as an “observer” I thoroughly enjoyed the Sheep Mountain 150. I had the chance to watch 40 dog teams in action and compare the checkpoint routines of some of the top distance mushers. Combine that with the breathtaking beauty of the surrounding mountains, and the Sheep Mountain 150 is one of the best.
I put together a short video of the race:
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Thursday, December 9, 2010
It's 40 Below What?
Talk about extremes: currently my older brother, Nick, is working for Runa, an entrepreneurship based in the Amazon of Ecuador (where it rarely gets below 60 degrees). After every few blog entries (http://www.guayusagoodtome.blogspot.com/), he ends with a compare and contrast of our two lifestyles. It makes for a very funny read!
Oscar Wilde was quoted to say, “Conversation about the weather is the last refuge of the unimaginative.” Oh, how I beg to differ. Fairbanks weather is most certainly conversation-worthy. We have hit the days of an average 20 below, with lows dipping to a frigid -40 degrees Fahrenheit/Celsius. (Yes it’s so cold out, you know longer have to specify if it’s Fahrenheit or Celsius, it’s just plain cold). Rather than lose interest when the grocer says, “This week, it’s supposed to be a little colder,” I snap to attention. How cold? Will the cars start? Will it burn when you touch metal with your bare hands? Should I cover every inch of skin when I go outside? And before I moved into my own cabin with indoor plumbing, do I really need to use the restroom tonight? That first day of -40, something about me must have screamed amateur because everyone I met kindly smiled and said, “Is it your first winter here in Fairbanks? Don’t worry, soon 20 below will feel warm.” Perhaps it was the huge parka I wore or how slow and stiff I was doing chores. Or maybe my shining red nose. Luckily, I consider myself a quick learner, and I’ve already picked up on a few tricks of the trade.
1. A parka ruff is a necessity. If don’t want your face to peel away, you have to get used to the idea of surrounding your face with wolf and wolverine fur.
2. Hand and toe warmers are no longer for the wimpy and sensitive.
3. Cold metal burns, then sticks. As Li’l Debbie demonstrated, licking metal is a bad idea.
4. Nothing works in the cold. Everything will take longer.
Anyway, I’ve made my point. It’s cold, and we talk about it.
So you may ask, when it’s that cold, how do the dogs handle it? The answer is, they’re made for cold weather. If it’s below -20 during a run, we’ll put dog jackets (complete with pee protectors) on the boys and short-coated girls, but that’s it. Right now, it’s 30 below, and the dogs are spinning around, playing with their neighbor, and causing raucous. The fact is these Alaskan Huskies are just tougher than we are. Right now, our dogs are getting ready for their first race, the Sheep Mountain 150. It consists of three consecutive 50-mile runs. To prepare, we’ve been taking the dogs on 45-60 mile runs in an effort to get them comfortable with cruising at a steady 10-11 mph pace for 50+ miles. I doubt there is a human athlete that could run 50 miles at an 11 mph pace, much less do it comfortably. This weekend, we’re traveling again to the White Mountains for a 50-mile run, campout, 50-mile run. And we’re still at the beginning of the season! As the saying goes, “These athletes eat raw meat, run naked, and sleep in the snow.”
Oscar Wilde was quoted to say, “Conversation about the weather is the last refuge of the unimaginative.” Oh, how I beg to differ. Fairbanks weather is most certainly conversation-worthy. We have hit the days of an average 20 below, with lows dipping to a frigid -40 degrees Fahrenheit/Celsius. (Yes it’s so cold out, you know longer have to specify if it’s Fahrenheit or Celsius, it’s just plain cold). Rather than lose interest when the grocer says, “This week, it’s supposed to be a little colder,” I snap to attention. How cold? Will the cars start? Will it burn when you touch metal with your bare hands? Should I cover every inch of skin when I go outside? And before I moved into my own cabin with indoor plumbing, do I really need to use the restroom tonight? That first day of -40, something about me must have screamed amateur because everyone I met kindly smiled and said, “Is it your first winter here in Fairbanks? Don’t worry, soon 20 below will feel warm.” Perhaps it was the huge parka I wore or how slow and stiff I was doing chores. Or maybe my shining red nose. Luckily, I consider myself a quick learner, and I’ve already picked up on a few tricks of the trade.
1. A parka ruff is a necessity. If don’t want your face to peel away, you have to get used to the idea of surrounding your face with wolf and wolverine fur.
2. Hand and toe warmers are no longer for the wimpy and sensitive.
3. Cold metal burns, then sticks. As Li’l Debbie demonstrated, licking metal is a bad idea.
4. Nothing works in the cold. Everything will take longer.
Anyway, I’ve made my point. It’s cold, and we talk about it.
So you may ask, when it’s that cold, how do the dogs handle it? The answer is, they’re made for cold weather. If it’s below -20 during a run, we’ll put dog jackets (complete with pee protectors) on the boys and short-coated girls, but that’s it. Right now, it’s 30 below, and the dogs are spinning around, playing with their neighbor, and causing raucous. The fact is these Alaskan Huskies are just tougher than we are. Right now, our dogs are getting ready for their first race, the Sheep Mountain 150. It consists of three consecutive 50-mile runs. To prepare, we’ve been taking the dogs on 45-60 mile runs in an effort to get them comfortable with cruising at a steady 10-11 mph pace for 50+ miles. I doubt there is a human athlete that could run 50 miles at an 11 mph pace, much less do it comfortably. This weekend, we’re traveling again to the White Mountains for a 50-mile run, campout, 50-mile run. And we’re still at the beginning of the season! As the saying goes, “These athletes eat raw meat, run naked, and sleep in the snow.”
A short clip taken in the White Mountains.
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