Ah yes, Spring is in the air.
Unfortunately, the arrival of Spring also means that areas once isolated by snow and cold are now accessible to droves of fair-weather outdoorsman and once-frozen heavy machinery, which means…plowed roads. With high berms and little to no snow in which to secure a snowhook, plowed roads are not the ideal mushing trail. Recognizing the lack of control, your calm trotting dog team can turn into an energetic sprint team with no comprehension of the word Whoa! Or if plowed down to gravel, the exact opposite happens with the dog team grinding to a halt on the abrasive rock. Either way, not ideal. Especially when we needed a team of dogs to run 400 miles for Dr. Mike Davis’s treadmill study.
As I had mentioned in my previous blog post, Dr. Mike Davis conducts a number of different studies on sled dogs testing their stamina and trying to better understand their physiology. For the current study, Dr. Davis needed biopsies from three groups of dogs, one of which just completed a 400-mile run and then trotted on the treadmill for 25 minutes. In addition to SPK dogs, Jake Berkowitz’s dogs were involved in the study.
Originally, the plan had been for me to race the Taiga 300, add a few more miles on after the race, and then run four of the dogs on the treadmill. However, the race was canceled, so we moved on to plan B. With Aliy and Allen leading their Adventure Trips on the Denali Highway, it seemed like the perfect opportunity for me to take the team from Cantwell to Paxson and back. In the winter, the Denali Highway is an unmaintained road known for its beauty and remoteness, making it a favorite for mushers and snowmachines alike. Along the way, Maclaren Lodge and Alpine Lodge provide nice breaks between Cantwell and Paxson. Aliy and Allen were going to leave drop bags at the lodges to resupply me along the way. But as is always with mushing, you have to be flexible. First, have a plan. Make sure to have a Plan B. And more often than not, and Plan C and D are good ideas too.
Sure enough, the day I was going to leave for Cantwell, Jake Berkowitz called and informed me that the Department of Defense had plowed the first 60 miles of the Denali Highway down to gravel. Back in November, a jet crashed just off the Highway, so the DOD was bringing in enormous machinery to collect all the pieces of the plane in case a Russian spy or avid firearms collector scoured the crash site first. I can understand their reasoning, but it sure throws a wrench in our plans. A memo or “heads up we’re driving machines the size of two-story houses down the Highway” would have been much appreciated. But secretive as always, the DOD didn’t even communicate with the Department of Transportation about their plans! So… Plan C?
Since we still had decent trails in Two Rivers, Jake decided to join me for the remainder of his 400 miles (he’d already completed 180 miles), and then I’d assess my options for the rest of my 400 miles. He arrived that evening, and we left the kennel at 9:00 PM for a long run on the Two Rivers training trails. Even with the warm weather, the trails were still in good condition until we reached our furthest turnaround. During the season, we regularly ran to the end of Baseline and turned around a large grove of trees, briefly crossing over private property and traveling through an open gate with a “No Trespassing” sign attached to the front. So why would this time be any different?
Sure enough as I came around the corner, I saw a four-foot high wall of snow and realized… they’d plowed the road. Apparently this warm weather makes folks want to get out and be productive. Regardless, I didn’t think twice about blasting over the berm and hopping down on the to the road, thinking I’d just give a sharp “Haw” and we’d jump right back over the berm when we reached the turn off. In the dark and with the light snow and wind, I failed to see that not only was the road plowed, but the gate was closed as well. I immediately hollered out a calm “Whoa” and applied pressure on my claw break. Unfortunately, the sound of the claw break scraping on solid ground had the opposite effect. Plan B- I called “Whoa” a couple more times, grabbed my snow hook, and started dragging it along the ground trying to find any grove in which to set it. Once again, the metallic noise only excited them causing the dogs to run faster! It’s almost as if they hear the scraping of metal on ice, know I now have zero control, and feed off my vulnerability. I realized it was hopeless when my lead dogs easily slid under the gate. I was never good at Limbo, but I hoped that if I ducked down, we’d just slide right under the gate. However, as I got closer, I realized I wasn’t going to make it under. Plan C- throw the sled on its side and slide under, dragging on my belly. My last ditch effort proved futile; I had waited too long. I clipped the gate as I went under, but as I waited for the sound of breaking metal or a jarring halt, all I heard was a loud crash and the gate swung open with the team. The mushing gods had smiled on us.
Getting off the road was a challenge as well because who in their right mind would trade a fast, frictionless trail for a couple feet of powder? This time, I was able to set the hook in the berm, walk up to my leaders, and point them in the right direction. But of course, it couldn’t be that easy. The trail had been blown over by drifts of snow, and my team jumbled up into one big mass of excited dogs. I pulled up my snowhook, walked to the front of the team, and began struggling through the thigh-deep powder. Ranger, one of my leaders and a favorite for his go-get-‘em attitude, started towing everyone, barking and wagging his tail at all the thrill and excitement. Finally, we reached the packed trail. Jake arrived shortly after with his own tangle of dogs, and we set off for the remainder of the run. All that trouble due to one plowed road. Of course, where’s the fun without a little bit of excitement?
The rest of the 180 miles went smoothly. We explored the hills across the road, rested in a cabin, and ran a few loops around the kennel, finishing in the wee hours of the morning a day later. When we arrived, I was pleased to find Allen with the truck loaded down with a four-wheeler, meat trailer, and other gear meaning that I would be joining them on the Denali Highway! At nine that same morning, we headed off for Cantwell and the remainder of the 400-mile run.
Even though the Denali Highway had received a little bit of snow, it was still plowed with intermittent patches of gravel. Like a true hillbilly, we hooked the dogs up to the four wheeler, strapped my sled onto the meat trailer, and drove to the Adventure Trip camp thirty miles in. I stayed a few hours at the camp with Aliy, Allen, and seasoned Adventure Trip mushers Sandra, Julie, and Chris. From there, we (my dog team and I) mushed to Maclaren Lodge, stayed for the afternoon, then ran the 90 miles back to Cantwell. Along the way we wove through spectacular mountains, often spotting moose, ptarmigan, and fox. Rather than describe the scenery, I recorded a short video:
At three in the morning, we arrived back at Cantwell after covering the last thirty miles of gravelly road. Dr. Davis was there to meet us, and I have to admit I was in a bit of a “state”. Sorry, Dr. Davis. In the dark, I had not navigated the team around the gravel patches, instead mushing right through them. When the sled traveled over gravel, I hopped off and ran next to it, hoping the runners wouldn’t be completely trashed. Not only did it feel like I ran thirty miles next to my sled, but while running, I had lost one of my beaver mitts. Even with A's in two middle school homemaking classes, the fact remains: I’m an awful seamstress. So after spending the drive down to Cantwell sewing and stitching my mitts onto the Idiot Strings, my seams failed and one of my beaver mitts was left behind. Dr. Davis helped me load up the team and sled, and then six hours later we began the treadmill study.
Around noon, Dr. Davis and I met up with Kaz, Doug, and Mickey at the entrance to the Denali Highway. The Adventure Trip crew was going to be arriving shortly, and we were there to meet Aliy, Allen, Julie, Sandra, and Chris at the end of their trip. I was still frustrated about the loss of my mitt and the condition of the trail, but I was about to be humbled. Over the hill came Aliy with five dogs pulling the four-wheeler and Julie, Sandra, and Chris with their four dog teams and huge smiles across their faces. Essentially, I was being a sissy. I guess the trail really wasn’t that bad, and luckily a snowplow driver had picked up my mitt and gave it to Aliy! What luck!
In the end, Plan C could not have gone smoother. Without Aliy, Allen, Kaz, Doug, and Mickey shuffling cars, leaving messages, and organizing gear, the 400-mile run would not have been possible. I’ve really enjoyed being a part of Dr. Davis’s studies and research, especially since he’s so good at simplifying the concepts so that I understand! Regardless of plowed roads, it was a trip to remember. The trails were spectacular, the views phenomenal, and the company…the best. Few people have the opportunity to travel on the Denali Highway, much less with a friendly, talented team of dogs. So while I’m glad that Spring has finally arrived, I couldn’t be more excited about the prospects of next year.
