The weather finally cleared up and it was smooth sailing the rest of the way.  We stopped in Fort Providence for the night.  That was interesting.   Had Lloyd not been with us, we would never have figured out they had rooms at this place.  The rooms were in one of those metal buildings that reminded me of what you see at a construction site.   We got the only room left with two single beds and barely any heat.  Lloyd graciously took the floor, which I’m very thankful for since he was the only one that came equipped to do so.  Plus, I later learned there were remnants of prior visitors from years past; socks, toilet paper rolls etc.  I slept in my clothes and cranked the itty bitty room heater they gave us and, surprisingly, sometime near morning it was hotter than hell in that little room.

Fort Providence was 3 hours from Yellowknife and the road was a frost heaved ribbon through sparse trees and whiteness.  As you near Yellowknife it gets very rocky.   Then just like that you see a city pop up out of nowhere and I do mean nowhere!  Yellowknife is quite a metropolis complete with high rises and lots of people.  It is not only the capital of the Northwest Territories, but also the only city in the territories.   It reminded me of Fairbanks.   You see people walking everywhere and they are all bundled up in serious parkas and facemasks as they head to their destinations.   The current population is ethnically mixed.   22.2% of the population is aboriginals made up of First Nations, Me’tis and Inuit.  Of the eleven official languages of the Northwest Territories, five are spoken in significant numbers in Yellowknife: Dene Suline, Dogrib, South and North Slavey, English, and French. In the Dogrib language, the city is known as Somba K’e(Som-ba Kay) (“where the money is”).

Yellowknife came into existence from gold mining and today it is diamond mining.  Nearly 95% of the population is employed, which is extremely impressive.  Everything you need, except straw, can be found here.  They even have a Wal-Mart!

Upon arriving, we headed immediately to Grant Beck’s place to run on his trail.  This place was booming.  Grant looked exhausted and said that he had another 4 days to endure before it would slow down.  The touring business is getting 200 visitors a day!   Often times they arrive in groups of 50 or 60.   They had marketed the business in Japan, South Korea and China over the past year and things just took off.  They do several types of tours, but the main one is to see the Northern Lights.  They have these huge sleds in which they cram a bunch of people in the sled and take them out on the lake.  Grant said the sleds can hold, “7 Japanese or 6 Chinese, but only 5 Canadians!”

While we chatted with Grant in his room full of trophies we learned that Roxy Wright Champaigne was coming to the race this year.  She was not coming to watch either; she was coming to race.  What a thrill!   We had the opportunity to meet Roxy the year we visited Alaska and spent the evening listening to stories.  It was fascinating to hear our pedigrees come to life from the very person that ran these famous dogs.  We never imagined we would have the opporunity to someday actually race with her.   This lady is a legend and we are beyond thrilled to be here and experience this.  The rest of the roster is not confirmed yet, but it is looking like an awesome group of mushers will be here.

After the run, we got out of Grant’s hair and headed to lunch.  This was when I learned that Bruce had not made room reservations.  I had to ask the question twice because I couldn’t believe my ears.  I knew that we were on a waiting list just to get the room for the nights he had booked, which I learned wasn’t until Thursday.  It was Monday when I heard all this good news.  I’m not sure what he was thinking, but I’m sure he had some reasoning behind it.  I, however, did NOT want to hear the reasoning as I was convinced I wouldn’t get it.  Instead, I ordered a beer, left my body and immediately began my search for a room.   Shoot, I thought the Fort Providence room was cold; what in the hell would I do sleeping in my truck at 10 below?   Monica had entered the crabby zone.   After three attempts and no rooms, I gave the phone to Bruce.   He made a few calls and nothing.  Then he landed one.  It was too easy.  I’m happy, but I’m scared.  Call it instinct, but I was correct to be scared.

We found the room right smack in the middle of downtown.  Trust me when I say that Yellowknife’s downtown is no different than any other downtown.  There were a handful of rooms.  The place looked a tad run down and there were obviously folks that LIVED in this motel.   We took the only parking spot.  On the window of the room directly in front of our truck was a sign taped to the window, “DO NOT KNOCK, I’M SLEEPING.”   Great, I’m sure this person will be totally understanding of the dog’s happy feeding barks.   We grabbed our gear and headed to the room.   As I opened the door I was assaulted with the most intense smell of smoke.   We had landed a room in a literal ash tray.  There were burn marks everywhere on the carpet, in the bathroom and even on the bed spread.   My mind was freaking.  I could barely breathe in the room.  My quick scan of the room had images of bed bugs, roaches and other things running through my mind.   I started to feel as if I might cry.  Bruce thinks this is funny; bad move on his part.  I made a mental note to deal with him later.  I went into survival mode; how in the hell was I going to survive the evening in this hole?  Suddenly, -10 below in the car didn’t sound too bad.

While Lloyd and I were waiting downstairs for Bruce to fill water buckets, we got to meet several of our new neighbors.  There were a couple guys standing outside smoking who were the first to engage in conversation.  The drunkest one assured us he would be at the race to cheer us on, BUT we had to beat the Streepers and the Becks if he was going to root for us!  Alrighty then, no small task there; note sarcasm.  I’m not sure how you guys lost this fan, but we’re more than willing to give him back!  I hope he forgets that he ever met us.  We were saved when some woman came and drug him away.   Then the guy with the window sign came out eating a sandwich in his t-shirt in -10 below.  “Oh, you gonna let them doggies out?”  This turned into a fascinating conversation in which he expressed how much he loved the Yukon Quest.  We asked him if he had run it and he replied, “OH HELL NO, I would have had to eat my dogs before the halfway point!”   OMG, I’m seriously freaking now.    Then we discover there are at least two other people in the room with our sandwich eating fella as they emerge from the darkness.   I hoped he had plenty of sandwiches in there since my dogs would be right outside his room.  Then in the room next to sandwich guy there was a lady yelling at someone in the room who was yelling back.  They seemed like a very happy couple.   I, on the other hand, was seriously not happy and told Bruce we needed to go get some locks for our dog truck.

On the drive to Wal-Mart I pondered what would happen to me after staying one night in this room.  Would I be screaming at Lloyd and Bruce just as our lady neighbor was?  Or would I be eating a sandwich in -10 below in my t-shirt the next day?  I couldn’t see that so I concluded that I would be the drunk standing outside.  I would have to drink just to sleep there and I would have to be outside for the only fresh air.  I realized I just entered the movie, “Psycho” and I was staying at the Bates Motel.  Yes, I could foresee my future just from one night.  Thankfully, I was spared this future of doom as Bruce made the decision ON HIS OWN to seek another room.   He must have caught my vibe when I was making mental notes!   We got lucky and one opened up at the Super 8 just minutes before we called.   We were willing to take a hit on the other room, if necessary.  It wasn’t about money at this point; it was about getting as far away from there as we could.   We went back to retrieve our stuff and Bruce told the lady at the desk that he should have looked at the room, as she had offered, because his wife was allergic to cigarette smoke and there was no way we could stay in that room.  Yes, we’ll probably burn in hell for the lie and if hell is worse than that room, I’m screwed.   The lady was absolutely wonderful and fully refunded the room.  Thank goodness as rooms around here don’t come cheap.  They wanted $130.00 for that ashtray!

We spent the evening tucked away at the nicest Super 8, I’ve ever been in.  Not sure if my viewpoint is skewed or if it was truly that nice.  We never even met one of our neighbors at the Super 8.

Today we investigate the city.  Stay tuned!

Bruce drove, then Lloyd drove, then Bruce drove and I’ve already lost count.   I haven’t driven.   I’m the navigator and entertainer.  I must keep everyone abreast of the latest dog sled race stats.  This is an important job when you have sleep deprived drivers.  It was not a problem until we hit Canada.  I’ll tell you about that later.   Let’s talk about the border crossing first.   Since I’ve been going to Canada, I have always hated going through the border crossings.   These things are nerve wracking.   I’m an honest, law abiding citizen that winds up ready to confess to murder, sex trafficking  or drug smuggling by the time they are half way done  with the process.   It is my nature in these situations to try and make light humor.  YOU MUST NEVER DO THIS AT THE BORDER.   The guards are trained to be Supreme Buttheads with no sense of humor; NONE.   Any attempt at humor usually goes sour fast.   On this crossing it all appeared to be going well.  The guard was stamping away at our Visas.  We had answered the questions and it looked like we were home free.  Ohhhhh no, we were instructed to park on the side and head into the office …. “ALL of you,” he commanded.   Great, as I feared there might be a rumored anal cavity search in a sequestered room in my near future.   I have it all planned in my head.  I’m going to fight.   This won’t happen to me.   I’ve already got my jail cell picked out.   I grab the vet book and we head in.  There are three unsmiling, unfriendly buttheads in uniform.  It is so quiet in this office you could hear a pin drop.  I wonder how in the hell anyone can work like that.  After about 15 minutes and no communication, two of them put their coats on and say they want to look at the dogs.   We are instructed to open every door and show them 16 dogs.   They ask the ages.  Bruce stutters and says with doubt, “ummm I believe I have everything from 2 to 6 years old.”   They look at him odd.   Can you blame them?  I can see the little thought bubbles above their heads, “This guy doesn’t even know the ages of his dogs?  Hmmm that’s odd.”   Little do they know that when you have more dogs than you can count, half the time you’re not even sure who you have with you let alone their age.  We didn’t share that though.   On the 2^nd dog they say, “What type of dogs are these?”   “Alaskan Huskies”   The guards look at each other and go to the next box.  “What did you say you do with them?”   “We race them in dog sled races.”   The guards look at each other.  “How OLD are they?”  Repeat question, crap they don’t believe us.   “They don’t have any FUR?  They don’t look anything like what we pictured????”   We’re thinking, “OH GREAT, how the hell do we explain this and make it sound believable.”   Bruce manages with a few smooth and a few not so smooth efforts.    Finally, after dog 16 they give us the blessing that we are free to go.  WHEW, I’m practically running to the truck.

So we are in Canada.   We are way overdue for an Iditarod update.   Awesome, we have 5 bars.   Several frustrating attempts and we cannot connect.  What the hell?  I ask Bruce, once again, “Did you order global service?”   He insists he did.   I spend another hour only to work myself into a mini sense of rage.  This will require a phone call and it’s not going to be me.   Bruce is much more suited to sitting on hold forever, plugging through an endless menu of options until you finally reach Bob from India.   Bob hooks us up for a little more cash and we are elated.  We will have entertainment.   No, we won’t.  Does not work.   Repeat process until we reach Harry from India.  Finally, we are able to get updates.   It was like walking the desert and coming across a can of cola.

We powered through the night and into the next day.  Thus far it has been a mind numbing ride.   Some of the flattest and most boring scenery and it never changes.    It’s as if Nebraska became a continent.  No offense to any of you that call these places home.  It is just very hard coming from the land of trees and hills to endless stretches of white nothing.  I was barely inspired to blog.   I see white.  Yep, some more white.   Ohhhh, look a bush.   Hmmmm nearest town is 300 miles; can’t wait.   We’re here?   Really?   Did I miss it?   There’s only one gas station?   It’s closed.   Nice.   Let’s keep driving.   Look another gas station.   It’s closed.   What the hell, it’s dark behind the dumpster; throw the feminism out the window we are peeing outside.

Amenities are few and far between on this route.  Bathrooms were a daily issue.   At night they are all closed and during the day they are too far apart.   Today when we finally found one, the water system had frozen and it was out of order.  Thankfully, they are friendly here and guided us to the local community center.   Food was also an issue.   I had wanted to pack a bag of goodies, but was denied due to time.  Soooo it has resulted in an endless stream of gas station junk to get through the trip.   When we were unable to stand it any longer we would attempt to stop for food.   This morning we were all geared for a good breakfast after making it non-stop through the night.  We found a café and it was closed.  A nice local fellow guided us to the only place for breakfast; A&W.  Not exactly what I was looking for.  I choked down a burger at 8AM or something.    My spirits were brightened when I realized we would be in Saskatoon at lunch/dinner time and our friend JR had recommended a great place to eat.  Unbeknownst to me at the time was how big Saskatoon was and so we expected this restaurant to be right off the highway where we couldn’t miss it.  No such animal.   I searched feverishly on the internet.  No such place.   We settle for the first place in our vision only to discover we entered a very scary buffet only restaurant.  One looksee at our options and we headed out the door.   Right across the parking lot is a bar and grill; we go for it.  The appetizer was our first clue there was danger ahead.  We ordered Mexican fries; fries smothered in cheese, onions, sour cream, salsa and tomatoes.   We received dried up tater tots sprinkled with the above accouterments.  I’m frightened now.   I ordered dry rubbed ribs, buffalo style and a Cesar salad.   When it arrives I have a plate of salad and next to it a pile of deep fried chunks covered in a pink sauce.   I choked through a few of the over fried meat croutons slathered in buffalo wing sauce and prayed I wouldn’t be hurling later.   We made a mental note to stay far away from this place on the way home.

Satellite radio has been a savior, especially when we were without internet.  You don’t do four days in the car listening to AM 760; trust me.  That would drive a person mad.  You must have variety.   When this trip is complete, I will have the world at my fingertips.  After endless hours of listening to several different subject matters, I feel as if I’m an expert on some.   Hours of Doctor Laura, political discussions and a variety of how to shows have enriched me.  After just two days I’m sluggish from junk food but inspired to fix my dysfunctional family, plant a garden and fight the white house.

Stay tuned; there’s more fun to come on this trip as we reach our destination!

The pre-race meeting was upbeat and there was a huge turnout of folks.   The race served pasties, a specialty of the upper peninsula.  Being of Finnish descent I grew up on these things and when you make them, you make a ton of them because they are so labor intensive.  A pasty is pronounced Past-ee and not Paste-EE.  Folks these are two completely different things.   A Paste-EE can be found in a nudey bar.  A Past-ee can also be found in a bar, but only in the upper peninsula and everyone is clothed.   It is basically a turnover made of pie crust and filled with ground beef, pork and rutabaga, carrots and potatoes.  You eat them with ketchup.  It is a hearty meal and just perfect for this event as many go without substantial food until darn near dinner the next day.   These things are hearty, homey, gut bombs and a major part of the culture here.

That evening the crowds turned out to the race sight in excess.  I heard rumors there were 6-8000 people at the start and boy was it a sight to see.  All the way down main street for ½ mile you could see the chute and the throngs of people.  The music was blaring, the bonfires were burning and the vendors were kicking out some great smells.  The atmosphere was one big festive party and the yoopers had come out of their winter cabins to party in the snow.   I was drawn to the hoopla and had to take a stroll so I could be amidst all the excitement.  I found myself dancing publicly to the great music; haven’t done that since my bar days.  Scary!  I boogied my way to the long line of folks ankering to get their hands on a Vollwerth hot dog.  These dogs are made in the area and are simply the best.   For good luck I ordered a Lead Dog; a vollwerth smothered in sauerkraut and mustard.  I boogied back to the truck scarfing my vollwerth and amused at the excited people turning out for the event.  The crowd was joining in the excitement with crazy chukes (hats) and choppers (mittens) and all the local teams had their mascots there so I was boogying side by side with a giant husky and a variety of other enormous critters.  It was a riot.

The temps on Friday were in the teens and the snow conditions were awesome.  The area had recently been bombarded with snow and there was more than the trail crew knew what to do with.  However,  Mother Nature threw some warm weather in to help out and the trail settled down beautifully into a hard fast trail.   Bruce led with Pepper, Sik SIk, Cora, Sedona, Sparrow, Durbin, Puff, Perry, Prince, Drift.  They just tore out of there in blazes.   Later someone came up to me and said, “Ya, da hooker told me dat dere Bruce’s team was da most powerful one dey hooked all night, heh.”   I chuckled in total appreciation of the Yooper accent, which I am so intimately familiar with and then laughed at how ridiculous this might sound to a stranger.   For those of you not in the know, a hooker is the person that hooks your team into the cable at the starting chute.  This race always has a few hookers at the start.  LOL!!    I guess we can say that Bruce left the hookers speechless!!

Unbeknownst to all of us watching he was going for the ride of his life.  Ok, mind out of the gutter, we’re talking dogs now and not the Hooker.   He told me later that he couldn’t slow them down and for the first time ever, he was actually a little freaked out.  I couldn’t help, but giggle a little as it was liberating for me to hear that he got to experience what it’s like being me on the runners behind that freight train.  He had moments when he wished he’d only had 8 dogs.  Dem damn hounds were croosin!  He was on the pad as hard as he could with everything he was worth to keep them under 15 mph.  On this leg not being able to slow your team is a frightening dilemma to be in as there are multiple road crossings to contend with.  It is a very wearing stage on lead dogs.  The volunteers were out in droves and the fire department was present at all the major crossings and as safe as this is, it can be stressful on your dogs and musher.  Several teams had mentioned that the crossing took a toll on their leaders.  Jerry Bath struggled and lost significant time after they got freaked out at one crossing.  JR Anderson’s team went flat on him; which, unfortunately, turned out to be a problem for the remainder of his race.  I know they are researching hard as to the cause and they will figure it out.

The teams run 50 miles into a little town called Eagle Harbor.  I think there is one motel and one restaurant.  We all park on the side streets of the little town around the local ball park and the finish line is right at the ball park.   The handlers and crew were all in the community center hovered around the interactive map trying to figure out when our teams were coming in only to be misled a few times.  I decided I didn’t need to know.  It would be what it would be.    Bruce’s team came in and they were happy except I learned that he had to really shut them down to protect two dogs.   As I went through them I discovered one had a sore wrist and the other a really bad split on a front foot.  Everyone else looked good, but you could tell the hard trail beat them up a bit so they all got massages and we boxed them.   This stage is tough as the teams rolled in around midnight and then you have a 9AM start the next morning.   We drove ½ hour back to Calumet to get the dogs away from the noise and so we could sleep in a bed.    It was on the ride home we learned that Bruce had come in first place.

The feeding on this race can be tough.  Our dogs are accustomed to coming in and being watered and then they get boxed and fed two hours later.  However, with such a short rest on this one, our typical routine is not conducive to the race schedule.   We starting setting the dogs up the week before the race and moved their feeding up an hour each day so that on race day they got their full meal at 8AM on race day.   We watered like normal prior to the race.  Then when they came in they got gylco cubes and water.  After working on them and driving back they weren’t ready to get out and eat, but they took a light meal of beef and water in their boxes.  We then watered them like normal before the re-start on day two.  Sounds easy enough, but in actuality this turned into a major mushing marital blowout.  I will spare all of you the gory details, even though it would be fun.  You can picture two people standing in the back of the motel with their dogs having loud words and one of them sending the other one to their room.  I have learned that a strong mushing marriage is one that has no memory of these events.  They happen, you get past it and later you laugh about it.   We were total idiots that evening, but in the long run it paid off.  A fight worth having   Dat Swede is a stubbern bastardi, but dat Finn she’s nuckin futs! 

Day two we dropped the dog with the sore wrist as I was unable to get it back in that short amount of time.  Everyone looked great and the only change we did in line-up was to put Sparrow up in lead with Sik Sik.   We discussed that Bruce should be conservative for a while to let them warm up as the hard trail the night before has its consequences.  He did that and the team didn’t seem as powerful, but when he’d check his GPS they were just cruising at about 14 mph.  The trail was nicely set-up for the majority, but there was about 5 miles of really punchy snow.  This section also had the steepest climbs.  Bruce shut them down to about 8 mph in this area knowing that coming off that hard stuff in to the punchy snow could cause injury.  Bruce caught Erin Redington about a 1 ½ miles from the finish and when she saw him she just let it rip.  Bruce was on the pad at 15 mph and Erin was tearing up the trail.  She later told him that, “Her goal for that leg was to absolutely not let Bruce pass her!”  She succeeded!!
The temps were in the twenties, but the sun was hot out on the trail.  The team came into Copper Harbor happy and looking good.  We had some sore feet, but nothing major.  The vet team checked out the team thoroughly and they passed with flying colors.  The punchy part of the trail took its toll on several teams.  Ryan Redington, who had already been asking the morning of day two what the minimum number of dogs required was for day three, was very concerned after day two.  We got to see the placements really jump around after this leg.

The rest of the day in Copper Harbor is relaxing and low key.  Most of us went to dinner and waited for the results.  We were excited to see that we had pulled off another 1^st place finish.  HOLY WAH!! (Yooperism) We had a shot at winning this thing.   Let the stress being…..”another beer please!”

During dinner our friend Jerry Bath started cramping up, which is extremely painful and he had to excuse himself from the table several times.   Then later that evening in the motel room he came out of the shower and it looked like he had slaughtered a cow.  He had the first of what would become a never ending nose bleed.  He made it through the night and then that morning the bloody faucet turned on and someone throughout the handle.   His handler, Al-Jo, was in full handling mode cutting up tampons for him to stick up his nose under the strict requirement that she cut off the string!   The stringless tampons were not working as they were soaking through faster than she could produce them.   At this point, Jerry contemplated scratching, but decided at the race site to continue after agreeing with himself that he would scratch on the trail if it got worse.  So they soaked a bunch of tampons in iodine and he stuck those up his nose.  With his nostrils on fire he left the chute in a blaze.   He was later seen by several on the trail with a Santa hat, tampons up his nose and iodine and blood all over his face.  I’m sure there are children all over the U.P. that are now mentally ruined after seeing Slaugherhouse Santa.

That morning we dropped the dogs and one of our younger dogs that was fine the night before was suddenly hobbling around and a total mess.  Are you kidding me?  The mysterious night time injury maker had come to visit.  There was no way in less than two hours I was getting this guy on the trail and at 65 lbs it was not worth any amount of risk.  Bruce would be leaving with 8.  The temps were to be in the twenties, but the sun was going to be out in full force.

We had less than a 15 minute window to win this thing.  Folks kept telling us that was a huge lead and we just kept recalling the miraculous 3^rd leg we had run last year making 20+ minutes up on JR Anderson.  We knew it was possible and that we needed to race all out to the end.   The team had some sore feet.  Most were in a great mood with the exception of the two leaders.  They were both down and mopey and this was concerning.   I had a moment where I considered switching leaders, but we both agreed to leave as is.   They didn’t fire out of the chute.   Bruce said this leg was agonizing.  He switched out the leaders almost immediately before the climb up Brockway Mountain.  They still wouldn’t get rolling and that leader was giving him issues.  He kept moving him in different positions and calmly suggesting that he was going to finish the race out of the bag.  Bruce made the decision he had to just keep quiet and let them get in the groove.   Very, very slowly they got rolling.  Meanwhile Bruce was watching his GPS and freaking because he hadn’t caught anyone.  By mile 23 they were rolling and he was on the pad trying to keep them under 16 mph.   I was back in the parking lot getting all these people coming up and telling me stuff. “He lost 5 minutes.   He hasn’t passed anyone.   He switched leaders.  No one has seen him cross.  Fraboni is flying.  Laboda is flying.”   I was near puking and finally had to tell some folks I didn’t want to hear anything.   Then here comes Dennis Laboda screaming into the finish!   They looked great and I could see they had fire.  Wow, what a run and what the hell is he doing here so fast?  He told Bruce before the start he was coming after him and damn if he didn’t give it everything he had.  I started watching my watch.

Then I hear them call Jake Golton and I’m pacing and muttering, “Come on Bruce, come on BRUCCCCEEEE!!”  Almost immediately I hear Fraboni’s name called.   Now I’m wearing a divot in the snow.  “Damn, where in the hell is he?”   I walk over to get a better look down the chute as it was thick with people and you couldn’t see and barely hear and I see two blue jackets.  I realize it is Bruce right behind Fraboni.  I almost screamed out loud!!  I was pretty confident we had it.   I knew we had it over Jake and Ross, but we needed to see the official results to be sure of Dennis.  I was relatively confident, but not enough to start celebrating.  Finally, we got the official results and the tears just came.   Holy crap, we did it.  We finally F’ing did it.   Our first really big win and it felt good.   It felt good to know that we could do it.   We are so proud of those dogs.  They ran hard and gave it their all.

It was a great race.  This RGO is phenomenal and their hard work is so evident.  They keeping raising the bar and it just keeps getting better and better.   They had one of the most competitive fields yet and I’m confident that there will be more in their future.  As for the community, they are simply the best.  There were several visitors here from outside of Michigan and many told me they just couldn’t believe how friendly everyone was.  They were just overwhelmed by the Yooper hospitality and they cannot wait to come back.   The banquet was fabulous with awesome mid-west cooking that just felt like home.  The sense of family and community was really strong.  There is only one other race I’ve ever felt this and it is the IPSSSDR.   Kudos to Copperdog on being able to achieve this as it makes you want to come back over and over and over and you always leave with that good vibe.

As always we loved competing with so many of the teams that were there.  Nothing beats being able to have a “friendly” rivalry with another professional and at the end of the day still remain friends.   We were really excited to see so many of our Stage Stop “family” in our neck of the woods and leave with smiles after experiencing a great race.   We hope they make it a habit to put this one on their race schedule.   Then I must quote one of our good friends who said, “This is so cool.  We got three rocks going south of the bridge.”   This was a huge highlight for us as well.   The Magnussons, Fortiers and Papkes, who I believe were the sole representatives for Southern Michigan, each took trophies back to the land of sun, rain and challenging snow conditions!!   I’m thinking, “Dem trolls under da bridge dey ROCK”, no pun intended!!

“Good Morning folks!” smiled the doctor.   The audience today was a tad more lively then the group the previous day and several responded with Good Morning including Bruce.  He always did remind me of that kid that sits in the front of the class all bright and cheery.   “I am Dr. Panacur…… he is interrupted by raucous laughter.  A young musher from the crowd yells, “Is this for real?   You’re named after a dewormer!  Come on now; is this candid camera?”   The crowd laughs nervously as you see them all looking around.  The doctor calmly responds with a huge smile, “Yes, this is for real.   It is merely a coincidence I am named after a dewormer.  However, I rather enjoy this coincidence as my purpose here is to deworm all of you of the negativity that has wormed its way into your souls.”   The crowd is laughing hysterically.   One musher actually gets up and leaves.   I assume he went for the alcohol counseling.  He’d been doing it for days and I guess he was still optimistic that it might work.

“Okay, okay.  I can understand your doubts, but let’s give this a chance.  I think that if you talked to the handlers yesterday, they really benefited from this process.  So let’s get started.   There is no real structure here.  I just want you to stand up and tell us what has stressed you out during the past 8 days.  Who wants to get us started?”

Bruce surprisingly steps forward.   I cringe.   “I am stressed out from being on the road and racing with my spouse for 3 weeks!”   He looks at me with a total shit eating grin.  Then he whispers under his breath, “You made me come here!”   I wanted to hurt him.    The doctor asks, “Bruce what was stressful about that situation?”

“Well, where do I begin?  Chuckle.  Let’s start with getting from point A to point B.   After every stage I ask her if she knows how to get to where we have to go and EVERY time she looks at me blankly and tells me she has no fricken clue.  Frank tells us that the HANDLER is supposed to read the packet so we know where we have to be!”   I cannot keep my mouth shut and interject, “The packet is crap.  There are rarely maps to get you to the next location, but you don’t believe me and since you NEVER read the packet, you have no clue.”   He laughs, “Okay, so when I ask you to punch in the destination in the GPS why is that a problem?”  I give him my best DUH look and say, “The GPS is also crap and then I laugh.  In case you forgot, it led us to nowhere on our way here AND the damn thing won’t work when we’re moving AND you can’t sit still for 5 minutes for me to get the thing set.”   Bruce shakes his head and turns his back to me and continues, “You just don’t know what you are doing.  The reality is that the minute we get in the car she has her head buried in her computer.   She knows nothing and is of no assistance to get us to our new location.   I go mostly by memory.  Then if I miss a road, she’s jumping all over me why I wasn’t paying attention.  It’s like crazy Ville in that truck until we get to our destination.   To make matters worse, they tell us to be at the meeting by 5:30P and we have a 2-3 hour drive and its 4PM AND the roads suck plus we still have to feed and drop dogs.   So after we drive and care for the dogs like a couple of maniacs we get to our destination only to discover none of the officials are there and the meeting was cancelled.  I was starting to feel like a gerbil in a cage by mid-week.”   I sneer at him, “Yeah, I’d like to put you in a cage for sure.”   He grabs me in a head lock jokingly and laughs, “I almost hurt her over these meetings.”   I retort, “If you almost hurt me over the meetings, I cannot count how many times I almost hurt you this past week!”   The doctor interjects and puts his hand on each of our shoulders.  “Folks, it may be a different type of counseling that you require!”  Major laughter from the group.

A musher from the back yells, “Don’t stop this is good stuff.  Makes my marriage seem like Disneyland!   I was so pissed looking for some of my gear this week that I was tossing crap out of the truck and hit my wife with a bottle of algyval.  That didn’t go over well.”   You could hear the crowd moan as they shared his agony.  “No, it’s all cool.  She didn’t talk to me all week; I was in heaven!”   The group is laughing hysterically.  I find myself getting agitated.   I want to defend my fellow spouses.

A grizzled guy steps forward, “What about when you come in from the trail and your crew doesn’t have a damn thing ready.  You and the dogs are dying of thirst and they haven’t even figured out that you’ve crossed the finish line.  You sit there looking hopelessly for anyone to come help you get to a truck that you don’t even know is there.   Then you see them come and they are laughing and oblivious to your irritation.   I always wonder what in the hell they do all day while I’m out on the trail“.  I can’t keep my mouth shut and yell, “Oh, we’re just sitting around playing cards and having our toenails done!”   Several of the musher’s look at Bruce with sympathy.  Bruce laughs.

“I’m not even going to go there,” says a young man, “my handlers are family and if I go there I might find myself all alone in the future!”   The mushers nod in agreement and with empathy.   The young man continues, “Personally, what stressed me out was constantly looking over my shoulder.  I spent most of this race within minutes of three other mushers and it almost drove me nuts.   Am I riding the pad too hard?  Too long?  Where is #100?  I would expect to see him by now.    I’d do a turn around and breathe a sigh of relief and the next thing I know some unexpected number would pass me.  Crap, I have to get on it.  I’m falling behind.   Then every time I’d hear a team I’d hold my breath and hope it wasn’t one of the three teams.  I became superstitious.  If you don’t turn around, it won’t be them, but if you do, you’re screwed.  I’d think I’d recognize a musher’s voice and my stomach would drop only to be completely wrong.  I was going nuts.  I started acting like one of those horny male dogs constantly looking backward for the female in heat.  Now I think I have a permanent crick in my neck!”

A gal spoke up, “I wish I had the luxury of standing on my runners and looking backwards.  I think the only part of this race I saw was the trail between my runners.  I was always bent over pumping or running.  I probably have brain damage from lack of oxygen.  I’d no sooner make it to the top of some incline and there would be another.   I’d watch some of these other teams come sailing by up the hill like they were on the flats.  It was so discouraging.  I wanted to yell, “BOOOOOO!” when they came by.  I actually considered jumping one musher and stealing his ski pole.  Next year I’m bringing my own ski pole and I think I’m going to wear oxygen.”

“If you had stolen my ski pole, I might have fallen over!   It serves as a cane as well, ya know.   By day two of this thing I was so damn sore I could hardly move.  You name the joint or tendon and I guarantee it hurts.  I can barely lift my ski pole arm to eat.  If you had jumped me, I wouldn’t have been able to defend myself.  I can only lift the ski pole high enough to use it on the trail!  I feel like the runners are indented into the bottom of my feet.   My toes are so cramped in the morning I almost have to straighten them out by hand.  Ohhhh, don’t mention the hands.  Every knuckle throbs.  If I hit one more thing on a knuckle, I might just break down and cry.  Did I mention my knees?  I’m not sure if they are capable of bending.   I couldn’t squat behind that sled like some of those young guys if you paid me.  Well, let me re-phrase that.  I could squat, but I would never get back up.  Believe me, I tried it once.  Had to wrestle myself upright and then I tipped the damn sled over.  Maybe I should consider just staying down, it may improve my times.   The other day I watched one musher come by pumping like a mad man and he made it look so easy that I was inspired.   I decided to give it a whirl and the snow was so deep that I lost my footing, slammed my knee on the runner, hit my chin on the handle bar and then drug for some time.  Thank goodness the team stopped as my gnarled claws were just about to give out.  I got myself back in the upright position and looked behind me, which I don’t do often because that requires a twisting motion my back doesn’t do anymore.  At any rate, I saved face because no one saw my guffaw.

A young man dressed like a snowboarder steps forward, “I don’t have any problems with pain or working out there… YET …. so those aren’t my issues.  What stresses me out are all the things that occur before I ever leave the chute.  Like what dogs to take.  I barely sleep at night going over different combinations and worrying about which dog should or shouldn’t go.  I find myself over analyzing the dog’s moods when I drop them.  I’m out there at midnight disrupting their sleep and I panic if they don’t jump out and act all barky barky jumpy jumpy like they are ready to go running.   Most don’t so then I try to return to bed and I cannot sleep because I’m worried they won’t want to go in the morning.  My handler just tries to keep me away from the dogs at this point.   So then I focus my stress on other things like what plastic or wax to run.   I ask ten people what they are using.  I ask 10 people what the temps will be like.   I make a decision and then change my mind.   I put a choice on the sleds and then run around trying to check out other musher’s runners.   I move their sled.  Oh crap, it slides better than mine.  I try another.   Mine is better.   I keep doing this until I’m almost sick to my stomach.  Then I start on my gear.  Should I wear the parka?  What if it is warm and then I sweat.  I should wear the light coat.  What if it’s windy and cold?  I’ll have to stop and dig the parka out and lose time.   Should I wear the boots or the running shoes?  I can’t run in the boots, but I won’t be able to run without toes either.”

“Shoot, I worry about nothing until I leave the chute.  I can blame the handling team if any of that crap goes wrong.   Once I leave though, it’s all on me”, piped up a guy in a very dirty, worn one piece suit. “I only own one outfit so that is a non-issue for me.   I don’t bring dogs that can’t run every day and I only brought one color of plastic so those are all non-issues.   However, when I leave I start freakin.  As the dogs warm up, I imagine I’m seeing bobs and bobbles and goofed up gaits.  I’m freakin that my everyday dogs aren’t everyday dogs.   Then if I see a real issue, I torment myself with the do I bag him or not dilemma.  One minute the bobble is there.  Don’t bag him.   Then the bobble returns.  Bag him.   Do it now.  No, wait a few maybe he’ll work it out.  Nope, still there.  Meanwhile a freaking half hour has gone by and the dog is still hobbling along.   Finally, I make the call and bag him.  Then I start stressing about the time I’m losing.   Then if my dogs are running fine, I start to stress about the trail.  There were a couple on this race that had me near delirious.   How the hell do you race when you don’t even know if you are on the trail?  All I could do was stand on the pad to keep them from tangling and pray that they were on the trail because I could barely see the wheel dogs let alone the leaders or trail markers.  I was hoping they didn’t run over the edge of a cliff.  I kept thinking I was in the Iditarod and realized I NEVER want to be in the Iditarod.   I don’t train for this crap.  I don’t even know what the hell to do when the snow is up to your waist and the dogs are swimming in circles tying themselves in a knot.  That crap freaks me out.   Mushing with no visibility is not my deal either.   I don’t run at night because I cannot see and frankly I didn’t see the difference between being in a ground blizzard and running at night.  Every time it cleared I felt like I had been in a time machine and had landed in new unknown territory.  Just as I would get used to it the time machine would swoop me back up and I’d ride in the white fog until it delivered me somewhere new.  If I didn’t have gloves on, I would have chewed off all my nails.   It was too tense for me, way too tense.

A rather depressed looking musher slowly steps forward, “None of this bothers me.  I can handle it all with grace.   What I cannot handle is losing.”  His head hangs down and he doesn’t make eye contact with the other mushers.   “I feel like the whole world is watching me mess up.   I had my sights on a much higher placement and SWOOSH just like that it slips between my fingers.   Some good runs were just teasers to set me up for the BIG stinking FALL!”  His voice is monotone except for the rise on key words.  “I’m tired of people telling me I should be proud of my placement or proud of just finishing.  “F” that!  I’ll be proud when I get the placement I’m seeking.  I’m not here to just be mediocre.  What are folks thinking when they think you should be satisfied with mediocre?   Are they happy with mediocre?   WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYY do they keep telling me to be happy?”   He looks at the 2^nd place team and yells, “Are you flippen happy because you were 2^nd best?  Noooooooo, you’re not happy.   You’re pissed.  You came here to win.  You came here to kick some butt.  You are NOT HAPPY AND NEITHER AM I!!!   I’m so done with being mediocre.   I want to feel JOY.   JOY like the winner is feeling.”   The group looks over at the winner who is beaming from ear to ear and truly looks joyful.  Suddenly the mood in the room changes and you can see the other mushers nodding in agreement.  Then someone yells, “YEAH, I want JOY too!”  “I’m not mediocre.  I want to win!”   “GIMMEE SOME FREAKIN JOY!”  A musher runs to the front of the room, “Gimme me a J, Gimme an O, Gimmee a Y!  What does it spell?”  The crowd screams, “JOY!” “Are you happy being mediocre?”  “NOOOOOOO,” screams the crowd.    Then a group starts pounding their fists on the table and yelling.   Boom Boom Boom  “WE WANT TO WIN, WE WANT TO WIN, WE WANT TO WIN!”  Then a table is flipped.   Someone pulls the fire alarm and total chaos ensues as cups, chairs and anything not nailed down starts flying around the room.  Everyone is screaming, “WE WANT TO WIN, WE WANT TO WIN……

The sirens can be heard approaching.  Several police officers in SWAT gear run into the room to regain order.

As the mushers leave you can hear them saying, “That was awesome, man!”   “I feel great.”   “That was the best I’ve ever felt after a race.”

“Good Morning!” No response other than a couple of grunts. As the doctor stared out into the group he saw a sea of wind burned faces. It looked like a bunch of red-faced raccoons staring blankly at him. The quiet was stifling and uncomfortable. The doctor continued, “Thank you everyone for joining us today. My name is Dr. Panacur.” He chuckles, “Yes, I know I have the same last name as a de-wormer. I find this particularly ironic since my job is to cure you of the negativity that worms its way into your souls. After I spoke to a few of you on the last day I saw a real need for folks like yourselves to get together and share the stresses you’ve endured over the course of the past week. It’s very helpful to hear that your competitors and friends are suffering from some of the same stress or having to deal with similar problems. I think I can say since most of you came that you all have something you want to discuss. I’d like to go around the room and give everyone a chance to share something they had to deal with that caused them stress. I’d like to start with the handlers and then move on to the mushers. Do I have any volunteers?”

Damn near every handler in the room raised their hand. “Wow, we might need another day folks! Let’s start with you.” He points to a young lady. Well, I think it was a young lady. She had on a pair of men’s Caarharts that were stained and worn, a very dirty polar fleece shirt covered in dog hair, bunny boots and her hands were dirty with crud under the finger nails. She had greasy hair and it was all disheveled under a knit cap. Her face was wind burned and her lips were severely chapped. She had a healing cut under one eye and what appeared to be a fat lip.  The doctor proceeded, “Tell us your name and then share with us one stress you endured during this race.”

She spoke clearly with confidence, “Hi! When I left home over a month ago my name was Celia. However, today I have been programmed to believe my name is either HEY, YO or YOU. I have had many stresses this past week so it is hard to pick just one, but I’ll start with the responsibility of keeping the dogs on schedule in spite of an insane and hectic race schedule. I can’t sleep because I keep waking up with night terrors thinking that I missed a dog drop and the dogs are all sleeping in their own mess because I forgot them. In my dream I run to the truck and when I open the door gallons of poop and pee pour out onto the cement. It’s horrible. I have looked at my watch so many times that it’s become a nervous tick and I swear I’m checking it every 15 minutes. I look like something is wrong with me because I’m constantly bobbing my head looking at the watch and walking in circles saying, “When did we put the dogs in last? One day I took the watch off to shower; notice I said one day. In 8 days I think I’ve had one shower. I’ve used everything I brought with a pleasant scent and lathered it all over my clothes to try and cover the stink. Anyway, I couldn’t find my watch when I went to get dressed and I damn near had a nervous breakdown. I’m exhausted. I just want it to stop.”

“Has anyone had a similar experience?” asked the doctor.

A young guy dressed very similar to the gal spoke up, “YO!” There was laughter in the room. “I’m Calvin and I just shower with my watch on. I figure that the showers are so minimal the watch can handle it. I’ve had so few showers that I’m starting to like it. Bathing requires energy. You’ve got to take off all this stinky gear and then find all your washing crap and then get re-dressed. It’s way too much effort. I just shed the outer layer, sleep in my long underwear and call it a day. Way easier, man! My biggest effort in this department is putting my boots on in the morning. That’s a killer to bend over after bending over all day working on dogs. There are mornings I fear that I won’t be able to raise myself back up. I wouldn’t worry about the bathing, we all stink.” The group applauds loudly. The movement of all these people clapping and creating wind brings to realization that he is correct about the group stink as an unpleasant odor wafts through the room. You can see the doctor crinkle his nose.

The young guy continues, “What I found stressful are those damn dogs that decide they don’t want to eat or drink during the race. OH MY GAWD, I just couldn’t handle it. I swear that they talk to one another and they make bets on who can hold out the longest to see if I’ll crack. I was their puppet and their clown this week as I tried everything short of eating the shit myself just to get them to eat. I’m a big guy and I’m on my knees pretending to eat their food, making chewing noises and grumbling like I’m having the best meal of my life. I fed them in their boxes. I would take one out at a time to feed them. I tried every food option we had. I ran out of buckets because I had to have so many options. It took me so damn long to get food and water in them I was missing banquets and so I went hungry. It was messed up man. Then some nights I would just lose it and you could probably hear me in the parking lot, Drink you little bastard. Please f’n drink. Oh F, drink or I’ll pour it down your throat. I felt so guilty man. I’m cursing the hell out of this awesome little dog just looking at me and wagging his fool tail off oblivious to my stress. Why can’t the little buggers talk and understand; it would be so much easier. Well, maybe not. I can hear them now, “Listen Calvin, you don’t have enough energy to shower, which is particularly offensive to our sensitive noses. We just ran 55 miles and now you want us to drink and eat? Lump it, we just want to sleep.” Yeah, maybe it’s best they don’t talk.” The crowd laughs in agreement.

Someone yells from the crowd. “Shoot, I got one that became an anorexic this week in protest. I was so worried that spectators would think I was starving the dog. I didn’t think they would believe me if I told them that she chooses not to eat.” Lots of heads nodding in agreement.

Another voice pops up, “Good eaters are awesome, but they come with their share of problems as well. I got 24 voracious monsters on my truck and I can’t possibly watch them all. I got dogs eating other dog’s food and dog’s arguing over food. There were days I wasn’t sure who the hell ate and drank what.”

“Speaking of eating,” yells a lady, “I was stressed because I never got to eat. I’m trying to ask my dogs to eat and yet I was going on empty most of the day. If I see another jerky stick or bag of chips I might hurl.” There was no time to stop and eat and that leaves gas stations as the only option. I don’t do gas station sandwiches; that’s like a death wish. All I could think about was food. Then someone would offer me a cookie and I’d want to scream. “That’s not food. It’s a flippen cookie. A cookie is AFTER food. It’s not a food replacement.”

By this point the doctor had lost control of the group and handlers were throwing their troubles out one after another after another.

“Food? My face is so wind burned and chapped I don’t think I can open my mouth and chew. Even my nostrils are chapped. The weather has assaulted me daily. The skin on my hands is crispy from all the ointments and crap that we’re using on the dogs. I feared they’d have to amputate my fingers in Big Piney when they went numb after putting foot salve on the dogs in 40 mph winds.”

A guy yells, “I’d love to be suffering from just crispy skin. My sciatic nerve is throbbing so bad, I almost wished they’d amputate my legs. My right side is a constant ripping pain from lifting dogs in and out of boxes and my feet feel like I’m standing on little ball bearings. I’ve never been so sore in my life. Then driving in the car for 2-3 hours every night is like someone is sitting there stabbing me in the ass.”

“Driving is my stress,” yells a gal. “I have hands permanently cramped in the three and nine o’clock position from doing the death grip on these insane mountain roads. Nothing is funner than 6+% grades on an icy road with wind blowing your trailer all over the road. I damn near puked from fear. I figured we drove about 1,100 miles just during the race. When I sleep at night I feel like I’m still moving”

“Yeah, we spent so much time in our truck it is a total pigsty, yelled a burly guy. At one point everything made into the back seat and we couldn’t find anything. I’ve lost at least 6 pairs of gloves and every morning I go nuts throwing crap out of the truck looking for gloves or my headlamp. I’ve lost and found so much crap this week it’s ridiculous. I’ve lost my glasses only to find them in a safe place in the glove box. Why they hell did I put them there? I’ve lost my camera who knows how many times. This constant feeling of loss is making me lose my mind.”

An older lady speaks up, “Losing stuff is the least of my worries. When we got here all of a sudden one of our main leaders decided that she liked flirting with boys. My heart sank to my knees when I saw her waving her butt and flagging. She wasn’t even supposed to be in heat. Every day it got worse until the boys were literally losing their minds. Oh, and do you think the boys will eat when there’s a girl in heat? NOOOOOOOOO, they don’t! I had boys flying out of the boxes and almost knocking me over as they tried to reach her. My truck looked like that scene in the Wizard of Oz where all the flying monkeys leave the castle. They were howling and moaning all night. Then the girls; holy cow, what a bunch of nasty bitches. They all wanted to kill her. They must have been PMSing. She didn’t care though; she just kept wiggling her little behind. I had to put her at the front of the truck to keep her out of sight, but it was useless. We smeared her ass with so much Vicks; we cleared the nasal passages of every musher behind us for the entire week. Did you guys feel like you could breathe better in the altitude? My musher would get all stuffed up after the race!” he crowd roared.

“If you only had one bitch in heat, that’s nothing,” said a fatherly looking guy. “I had 6 out of 8. Try loose dropping with this situation. I’d open the box and dogs were jumping out of the box and using me as their step stool to the ground. I didn’t even get a chance to hoist them down. None of the boys will focus on the run. I probably have so many shoulder injuries because the bastards are always looking backwards while they run. We had actually celebrated before the race because one of our main leaders came into heat. Well, she’s in heat again! How in the hell do they come into heat 3 times in a year? That’s not supposed to happen. We are so stressed from trying to figure out who can run with whom and who will even run with a female in heat in the team.”

A voice from the back yells, “Injuries; now there’s some serious stress. Every drop in the evening I hold my breath as I open the door anxious to see what awaits me. Will the dog jump out and run around all nubile or will he have a peg leg? I slowly open the door and get the dog out and watch. Some nights I even imagine injuries. OH shit, I think he limped. Is he limping? Do you see a limp? Watch, I think his head is bobbing. Then you go through the dog and nothing. However, you are haunted by this mirage until the team returns after the next day’s run and you are just praying for that dog to not be in the bag. Then when there is a legitimate problem. You immediately wonder how in the “F” did that happen? That dog was fine after the run. What do they do in their boxes? Your mind starts with the small stuff and you just hope it’s something small. Maybe he has a split. No split. Is it the quick on the toe? Nope, toes look good. Is it a wrist? We can fix a wrist. Nope, wrist looks fine. At this point, you get that sick feeling in your stomach as you move up to the shoulder. Ohhhhh Nooooo, not a bicep or a tricep. Maybe it’s just a knot. We can massage a knot out. Bicep and tricep extension are good. At this point, you slightly slip into denial as you start massaging, extending and then wrap the dog up in heat pads and shoulder coats. It will go away in the morning you tell yourself. Meanwhile, your gut is doing flip flops with the reality.”  Handlers are looking at each other and laughing in agreement.

A young guy resembling a beach bum in winter clothes speaks up, “Dude, that is so true. What really sucks though is when you’ve got three key dogs down with freak injuries before the middle of the race and a handful of other minor injuries; which means every healthy dog left needs to be kept in tip top condition. I’m a freaking traveling dog spa. I think I could get a job as a masseuse after this. One half of my truck looks like a hospital ward with dog’s on IV’s, dogs on drugs and dogs wrapped from ass to toe. The other half is the spa. After the race, all dogs that pass the physical check into the spa. They get a full body massage with aromatherapy oils, a body wrap, foot rub with soothing oils and a fresh straw bed. I’m up, at hours I typically only see when I leave the bar, working on dogs that require extra attention. I even play soothing music when I rub them down. Shit, they may as well have the full on spa experience and I should offer them frozen dog food on a platter while I rub their knots out. Wait, I’ve done that. Our non-eaters are getting frozen treats in their cozy bed. I think I’m going to change the logo and name on our trailer to Spa Puppies. These dogs are spoiled as hell. I’m drawing the line though, this dude does NOT paint toe nails!”

Another guy steps forward, “What I want to know is do the top teams struggle with this same stuff? Damn, I’m watching them put out the same dogs day after day after day and I never see them working on them. It’s like they have super bionic dogs. I was in the chute one day checking their asses to see if there was an antennae sticking out. I saw one dog that I swear ran all 8 days. Most of my dogs looked whooped after two days in a row. Then they never flippen wear booties. What the hell? Are their dogs pads made out of concrete? I don’t even see them putting stuff in the feet. I got so much crap in my dog’s paws it’s like their on stilts before they leave the chute and then they still come in looking like hell. I don’t even see them do physicals on the dogs when they come in. I’m breaking my back checking every dog and all their feet after every stage. What the hell? What the hell? When you ask they all have great feet, no injuries and they all drink and eat like champs. What the hell? It makes me feel like an inadequate boob. Am I the only one that feels this way? What the hell? He shakes his head and walks to the back of the room.

“Oh, you’re not the only one that feels inadequate,” says a quiet voice in the middle of the room. A lady wearing some sort of animal hat steps forward. “When I saw the one musher wearing the Turkey Hat, I almost asked him if I could buy it because I felt like a turkey most of this week. Between dog’s on IV’s, feet issues, scratched dogs, waiting for my musher to come in last, dogs that wouldn’t eat and dog’s that won’t even go in their boxes I felt completely inadequate.” Then she suddenly screams out loud, “FOR CHRIST SAKE I CAN’T EVEN BACK UP MY OWN FUCKINGTRAILERI” She smiles and then moves to the back of the room.

A grizzled looking man watches her retreat and proceeds, “Well, I’ve been doing this for 20+ years and we still can’t get our shit together. We watch teams with half the experience just bounce right up to the top and not have a single issue. It’s gut wrenching. There’s no way in hell they have the knowledge base that we’ve acquired over 20+ years and yet they have no issues. It’s like the drunk that has the car accident and never gets injured. Yet, the family man working himself to the bone winds up in the hospital. It seems so unfair. The man unexpectantly breaks down in a sob. Then he drops to his knees and begins beating on the carpet screaming, “This gig SUCKS! I don’t know how much more of this I can take. 20 fricken years and I got NOTHING!! I can’t watch another snot nosed punk kick my ass again. I’m done, I’M FUCKING DONE!” He is now laying on the floor face first and kicking and beating the carpet in two year old tantrum style!

The doctor steps forward with his hand up to stifle the onslaught of new comments. He puts his hand on the man’s back and says, “Folks, I am a so relieved that we did this. It is evident that many of you are under a great deal of stress. This is what can happen if you don’t let it out. You must share your troubles with one another. We’ve run out of time and must continue this tomorrow. Please join us for our next session. Good day!”

You hear the ambulance sirens approaching and then two men rush in and strap the guy to a gurney and rush him away.

Temps were in the mid-twenties and it was windy as all get out. After yesterday, we are officially down 3 key players and there are a few with dings and dents that I don’t know if I can get back for Evanston or not. We managed to piece together a 10 dog team and they were all in fine spirits. We led with SikSik and Sedona who were supported by Pickme, Cora, Perry, Piney, Drift, Puff, Durbin and Prince. You could tell from the parking lot that the trail was going to be punchy and the snow was like crystalized sugar.

Our team took off and the first of several problems ensued when the leaders immediately didn’t follow the trail to the right and instead went left. A spectator helped get the team back on track after a minute of messing around.  The team got rolling and a mile and a half into the trail the team ran right into an exposed cattle guard that had not been covered or marked and the front four dogs went in right to their chests. We were damn lucky none of the dogs broke a leg. Sedona decided she was done leading after that and Bruce put Cora up front after checking everyone out. He was as mad as a hornet and almost turned around, but decided no good would come of it. So the team took off and they were on fire. Yesterday’s run was a sluggish mess and it was not the team we had trained. We thought we knew what the problem was and immediately set forth to correct it and it was a relief to see we had figured it out. They made great time to the halfway point and had caught everyone in front of them. He had caught Warren in the turn around and made the pass. The team was now leading, which meant they had to break trail. They were doing a great job, but then they crested the top of a hill and the trail had disappeared. It was blown in 3 foot deep and the winds were gusting to white out conditions. The leaders got balled up and it resulted in a huge tangle. It was impossible to help them as you couldn’t hook down and you couldn’t walk to them. At one point the dogs in front of wheel were leading. Finally, Warren came by and saved the day. He got Bruce’s leaders to follow him so they would string out. This gave Bruce a chance to get them untangled. They got moving again and caught Warren again. They crested a ridge and the wind was blowing majorly across them. Bruce couldn’t see the leaders and they just allowed the wind to guide them right off the trail into waist deep snow. They were out of the wind at this point and to get them back on trail Bruce had to gee them back into the wind. One of the leaders laid down and curled up to get out of the wind. This is an instinctive action and when this happens sometimes there is nothing you can do to get them moving. Thankfully, our 2 year old leader; Cora started taking Bruce’s commands and drug the other leader back to the trail. He said it was a very awesome experience to watch this young leader step up to the plate and literally save his ass today. Bruce had lost Warren enough that his trail had been blown in and they were breaking trail again. They started closing the gap, but it wasn’t enough to catch him before the finish.

It was a 40 mile trail that took most teams over 4 hours to complete and there were numerous stories to tell at the end of this day. Several teams went off trail and had to turn teams around in deep snow. There was a loose dog from one team that required a couple mushers to catch. Several teams went into the cattle guard. Most everyone we spoke to had went off trail and had tangles. Brent Beck may have had the worst day. After his leaders turned around on him in the chute, he got several hundred yards from the chute and lost 6 minutes switching dogs around trying to get them to go forward. Then later he followed a group that had gone off trail and they had to turn around. As if this wasn’t enough torment, he literally got blown off the side of a cliff on one ridge and wound up in snow up to his chest. The sled barrel rolled and it took him a long time to get himself out of that predicament.

Ryan Redington had a horrible run and was one of many to have wound up on the wrong trail and when he came in said that it was worse than anything he’d ever seen in the Iditarod. He followed Jeff Conn down the wrong trail and so did Brent Beck. After they turned around a moose came out behind Jeff and charged at Ryan’s team. Just before his heart stopped, the moose lunged into the bushes. It was a little too close for comfort. Ryan also ran into the cattle guard and had to switch out leaders. Many mushers were a bit displeased with the trail. It was dangerous on many levels and it was also a game changer, but not for the right reasons.

Everyone is exhausted at this point and the end is almost here. We’ve driven more miles than ever with this new schedule and it is a back breaker.   All of our dogs checked out ok, but we will be holding our breath to see if our 4 front end dogs have any injuries from the cattle guard. This is one of those things that shows up after a night of rest. We’ve got them algyvaled, coated and wrapped up in heat pads. They are all comfy, cozy in their nests resting up for tomorrow.

The trail tomorrow has been groomed, but the high winds may blow in certain areas, but at least there will be a base. Usually, the last day is relatively easy but the new schedule has us racing on the last day and this will be followed by our banquet. Not sure if any of us will have the time or energy to shower and get all gussied up for the festivities. However, I know several of us will find the energy for a stiff drink after this one!

The trail was hard and fast and the mushers were fortunate enough to not have to deal with the wind the entire run. They ran through patches of wind and then it would be gone. Bruce left with Spike, Targhee, Cora, Sparrow, Drift, Durbin, Perry, Piney, Prince and Breeze. Everyone was in good shape and they ran a really nice first half. The second half they quit climbing the steeper hills, but were still handling the flats and rollers with speed. Bruce was certain he lost time today on the two big climbs. He felt he had a good run, but not a great run. Gee, yesterday we were thrilled with the climbing; sure wish we’d make up our minds! Many of the teams had good solid runs and everyone was in relatively good spirits. When Will Kornmuller came in he was beside himself with happiness. He loved the trail and thought it was just like home and the dogs just rocked it with a great run. I didn’t want to burst his bubble, but I told him to enjoy the memory of the trail while it lasted. Little did I know of what was in store for tomorrow.

Unfortunately, we lost another competitor today when Stacy Teasley scratched. The Moosher God had it out for her today and she decided enough was enough. She had a dog show an injury within the first 10 miles and she had to make the tough decision to bag the dog for the remainder of the run or turn around. She had just bagged a dog for a great deal of an earlier stage and she was concerned about stressing her young dogs unnecessarily. She stopped think over her situation and then decided to turn them around. While doing so the injured dog got into a fight with her leader and was biting her in the rear end. This resulted in a huge tangle. As the mess was being sorted out the two leaders got unhooked and took off. Fortunately, there was a snowmobile there and Stacey hopped on and chased down her leaders while they watched her team. She then had to transport them back to the team on the snowmobile hoping they would get along through the trip. By the time she got things all sorted out she was done. We will miss her bright, cheery face everyday 

Our team checked out ok, but we need to rest a couple dogs. It was another 2 hours in the car back to Big Piney and the wind was rocking. The place we normally feed was too soon and so we carried on thinking we’d find another place. We pulled over and when I got out I told Bruce that we couldn’t feed in this wind, but he was determined. I thought I had walked into the vortex of a tornado. I stepped into the trailer and the wind was blowing so hard it sounded like someone was beating on the trailer. There were whistling noises everywhere. We hauled all the pails out and then all our bags and containers of magic potions and powders. When we opened the first container; powder went swirling everywhere. Half the scoop wound up in the wind. We got some into the pail and then it was like watching a little mini-tornado in the bucket as the powder swirled about. We had to put the lid on it to keep it in the bucket. I had powder up my nose and all over my clothes. The dog pans were blowing all over. I entered crazy and told Bruce we couldn’t feed here. The dogs were as quiet as church mice. They had no interest in coming outside; even for food. So we carried on until we got to the motel and the winds were calmer.

Right now this is the closest Stage Stop we can recall. Aaron Peck has held the yellow bib for three days and is within 5 minutes of Buddy Streeper. This is turning out to be quite a race. The mushers were informed that due to the high winds there was currently no trail in Big Piney. It has a base, but everything they had done to the trail thus far was blown to smithereens. They told the guys to expect potential 2 foot drifts and patches of hard fast trail. They expect it to be a long day and a slug fest. Even better they said that Kemmerer will be worse. Gosh, this is starting to feel like the year of the epic storm. Looking forward to tomorrow; not!

We spent a few hours after the banquet working on dogs and assessing who was in good shape to go tomorrow. At this race every time you drop dogs you’re in for a surprise. The dog that looked great when he came in suddenly is limping. The other dog that looked good has a swollen foot. What is behind door number two? Will it be a healthy dog or a gimpy dog? Will the dog bounce out of the box or will he roll over on his back and give you the look? It gives a whole new meaning of dropping dogs when you have to hold your breath every time you open a door. The trail conditions throw a new twist into the plans and we expect that it is really going to wear on the dogs. We’ve seen this trail be a complete nightmare where you had to have a leader that would break trail because there was none. We’ve seen where the snowmobile couldn’t stay ahead of the teams due to the drifts. It should be a very interesting day tomorrow. Stay tuned.

The bottle promised: “Helps reduce Stress” “Enhances mood” “Provides focused concentration” “Promotes a positive outlook” “Happiness in every bottle”! HELL YEAH, I need a case 

So I am blissfully typing my blog as we make the 2 ½ – 3 hour drive to Lander and I notice that we are following the Streeper Rig. On the back of the rig is a giant picture of their dog team just tearing it up. I suddenly have a desire to call trail. This is the closest we’ve been to their team this year. I tell Bruce I’m going to write a sign that says, “TRAIL” and then I try to convince him to make the pass as it will be good for his mental state. See, I’m a handler with psychological coaching techniques in my back pocket! He looked at me as if I had drank a case of the beer. Whateva, just be a follower I told him!

So it was a tad chilly this morning at the race site at -6F, but was expected to climb to 19F! They appeared to have some fresh new snow in the past week. We ran the trail out of Cora parking lot, which is a 43 mile loop. At the musher meeting they told everyone the trail would be groomed for the first part yesterday and it should be hard and fast. At the top of the mountain they said it was expected to be windy and the trail could be blown in, but it would have a base. They recommended that everyone booty due to the cold and conditions at the top of the mountain. There it is again, that damn booty conversation. Frankly, I’m tired of this conversation. “Are you going to booty? Are you? How about you?” I think we changed our decision 5 times this morning and we finally went with no booties except bad feet. It was the right decision. I have been amazed thus far at how well our feet have held up and today was no exception. I think we dialed in on the magic formula. Weeeeeeeeee!

Bruce had a great run and we’ve heard rumors that we are in the top 5 again, but that remains to be seen when the results are in. Dogs ran the way we trained and he was ecstatic at how they climbed. He feels they are climbing better than any team we’ve had in the past. As usual, we are learning new things daily. We’re learning the things we did right in the training and seeing some things that we missed. We didn’t get a chance to evaluate the team properly last year due to the illness and so it is exciting to see the training efforts come to fruition.

We’ve just stopped and fed the dogs and made the pass on the Streeper team. We are now in the lead; we’re going to enjoy this while it lasts!!! It’s feeling pretty good.

We heard Lander was going to be 40F tomorrow; however, it is in the teens right now and  it is snowing like hell in the pass.  Lander has over 6 inches of fresh snow in town.  Hmmmm, not sure it will be a hard and fast trail like they promised.

Results are in and we pulled off 3rd place.  Whooot Hoot!!!

It was in the twenties today in Alpine and overcast. They had about 6 fresh inches of snow on the trail and it was not groomed. Guess the groomer had a late night and never got to it. We knew this would be mash potatoes. We were throwing caution to the wind today and pulled out the big guns. Spike and Targhee led. Followed by Cora, Sedona, Utah, Durbin, Puff, Drift, Kaloof and Breeze. We did NOT wear booties today and we took the pee wee sled. Bruce put all his gear in a back pack in case he might need to bag a dog. Oh yeah, good thinking there since the Ole Musher God had plans for us.

So the first big test was whether or not the young leader Targhee would get out of the chute as he failed to do so miserably in Jackson. The chute was lined with school children and they narrowed the chute as they all pressed in to see. The dogs were amped and Targhee was showing major excitement. He was feeding off of Spike and I had confidence he would go. I was ready with plan B should that not be the case, but it worked well as he took off without hesitation.

The trail was a tough mash potato mess. The team climbed better than they ever have and it was one of the best dog teams Bruce had ever driven. Bruce held them back hard to preserve them for the entire 59 miles. After the turn-around he had a dog that started to show some issues and it was one of his powerhouses. He had to slow the team down to try and ease him along. Just prior to the start of the race this dog had got into a spat with another dog. We never found any puncture wounds and it appeared he had only been bruised in the front bicep. We iced it a couple times a day and rubbed him down with Algyval and by the next day he was bouncing around like a fool. He didn’t run until today so he had 5 days to heal and he looked great. Something; however, was obviously wrong. Bruce nursed him along thinking it was the bruise and didn’t feel there was need for major concern. He was moving along good enough that it didn’t make sense to bag him. At the finish line he bagged him for the mile run back to the truck. When he picked him up he peed and it was dark. When they got him out of the bag, he was in bad shape. The vets got to work on him immediately. Long story short they found a very small puncture wound which revealed itself with all the swelling. We felt bad we had missed it, but they assured us it would have been extremely hard to find until the swelling opened it up. The poor guy had to be put on IV’s and scratched from the race. He is going to be fine and by late this evening he was already drinking and eating like a champ. So lessons learned: 1.When a dog gets in a fight even if no puncture wounds are found put them on antibiotics. 2. Bag the dog immediately instead of nursing it along.

We were pleasantly surprised with 5th considering the problems, but very disappointed with the situation and having to drop a dog so early in the race.

Several teams had issues today and things got mixed up quite a bit as they always do in Stage Stop. Many teams really struggled in the mash potatoes and it was a long disheartening day for several. Most didn’t want to talk about it – can you blame them. Just have to laugh and ask ourselves why in the hell we do this. BECAUSE IT IS SO MUCH DAMN FUN!

We were the last to arrive to the banquet, but just in enough time for dinner. Roads were icy as all get out on the pass and it was a very long drive to Pinedale tonight. We are very glad for a 10:00am start tomorrow. We need our beauty rest and we’ll be up late nursing the patient. We tried to bring him in the room and it didn’t work out so well. Not sure if it was the drugs or just his usual personality defect, but he saw himself in a mirror and went nuts. Then he tried to climb into the mirror and when that didn’t work he tried to climb up on the sink to see himself. Guess he liked what he saw!

It is 1F tonight in Pinedale so we are expecting a cold one tomorrow. Stay tuned.   OH AND  BIG SHOUT OUT TO BEAU AND BRENDA FOR ALL THEIR HELP — YOU GUYS ROCK!!

Despite the weather, the town was full of the usual hoopla, but to mix things up a bit the race added a dual start to make things a little more interesting. It was mandatory that you run 6 dog’s; no more and no less. This was for safety reasons as there was no way to hook down. We chose to take all the young dogs that had never seen crowds before including a young leader. We were paired up to leave with Aaron Peck. On the long jaunt to the chute our young leader decided that people, pets, loud music and a jumbotron screen were not his thing. By the time he reached the chute he was wide eyed and freaked out. I told Bruce I didn’t think he was going to go, but he chose to leave him in anyway. As they left the chute, he started balking and his partner, Sedona gave him a raft of shit. About 200 yards down the chute he decided he was done. Bruce had to ask a spectator to stand on the brake while he switched out leaders. The spectator looked as freaked out as the leader and wanted assurance they were not going to take off with her! Bruce laughed and told her they didn’t even want to take off with him so she was safe.
Aaron Peck politely waited for Bruce and they continued only to catch Jacob Golton and Richard Beck. Richard’s leaders wanted to take him the scenic route and Jacob was setting out his sleeping bag and starting to build a fire (wink wink). We shall now refer to him as Camper Jake!

The results didn’t count, but they did determine your start position. It was evident there were a few different strategies this year based on the finish positions. We had heard there would be severe winter weather and potential for 8-10 inches or more in the higher elevations throughout Sunday. We felt the early start could be advantageous.

The weather didn’t disappoint as we woke to steady snow and the temps had dropped to the mid-twenties. There was not significant accumulations at that point to be concerned about breaking trail. The big discussion amongst several was whether or not to booty. Our goal this stage was to play it slightly conservative. The race this year is 62 miles longer than last year and it’s a long race. We chose to booty today and try to keep their feet healthy for later. Bruce would decide on the run if he would strip them. They told the mushers that the first 25 miles of trail would have several intersections with multiple choices. A good Gee/Haw leader seemed necessary. We switched our plan up a bit and ran SikSik and Sedona in lead. She is a crack gee/haw leader and would keep SikSik in the right direction. Bruce said it was a good thing as SikSik tried to make a couple of his own decisions and she attacked him. One time she actually knocked the poor guy down. That will teach him not to listen to the gal in charge! The remainder of the team was filled out by Sparrow, Pickme, Cora, Piney, Prince, Perry, Drift and Puff. They got off to a good start and left in high spirits.

The handlers all had to drive a couple hours to Ashton, Idaho for the finish. The snow had picked up by then and the roads were very poor. I must be getting used to driving mountain roads in crappy weather as I was worse than a texter behind the wheel. I hadn’t eaten all morning and I required food. Just before we left I managed to cut an apple with a plastic knife and then while I was driving I proceeded to try and slather natural peanut butter on the apple. If you’ve never seen natural peanut butter it is very runny. So I steered with the left hand and with the right hand I dipped into the jar and tried to get a blob of peanut butter from the jar to my apple, which was parked on the center arm rest. In theory, this sounded doable. In reality, not so much. At one point I was laughing out loud because there was peanut butter on the steering wheel, on my seat, on my ski pants, on the radio, on the console and on the floor, but there wasn’t a drop on my apple. I was not to be discouraged as I weaved all over the road. I wound up consuming probably 400 calories of peanut butter because whatever amount made it to the apple, I ate. My vehicle now as a lovely sent of peanuts mixed in with the regular doggy odors. It is 6PM and we are driving to Alpine for the banquet and I’m so hungry and all I can smell are peanuts.

As for the run, the trail had tough conditions and it snowed hard the entire time. ½ hour into the trail they started a long climb. The team steam rolled up the climb and looked really nice. It opened up into some wide open flats with rollers. This was a total white out and you could only see the track directly in front of you. The team caught everyone in front of them except Richard Beck by the 30 mile mark and they were moving nice. Bruce could see Aaron in the distance for a while, but the gap stayed the same for a long time. The team finally caught Richard’s team. Richard was in front of the team trying to get the dog’s to take a haw. The marker showed a turn, but in the white out you couldn’t tell that the turn was actually 30 yards further up from where Richard was. Bruce hawed his team and passed Richard and this took them into a ditch with waist deep snow. Richard’s team followed. They got out of the ditch and Bruce’s team was in a major tangle. Richard passed again and so did Charlotte. During the tangle the front end got interested in a female that is coming in and after that they went flat. He caught Richard and Charlotte again and passed one more time. However, the front end was not running like they were and kept wanting to turn back to the flirty girl in the back. By this point, Aaron had caught Bruce and passed and then Charlotte and Richard passed for the final time. Bruce switched out leaders and they got rolling again, but he had lost some significant time. We later heard that the back of the pack was the place to be as they felt the trail had really hardened up.

The team came in healthy and bounced out of the boxes for dinner a couple hours later and their feet look GREAT!

Jerry Bath had a flat run; the team got in cruise mode and stayed there. Ryan had a nice run despite having to bag a leader. He leased one of our dogs, Spit, and she did a great job for him on this run and still wants more.   His great run may have had something to do with his hat; that guy is clucking crazy!!   Stacy Teasley and James Wheeler also had dogs in the bag. Erin was having some struggles on the trail, but we haven’t heard the details as of yet. Buddy’s main team and second team came in back to back and paced each other the entire run from what we heard as everyone was passed by them together. Aaron’s team looked really nice as they crossed the finish line. Jenny Gregor’s team went flat and thought it was due to the warm weather. Jake said he had many issues.

Looks like Alpine got a good six inches. This trail always has a base. It is not snowing as of right now so we’ll see what the trail looks like in the morning. Stay tuned!