We had a rather long break between our last run of winter 2024, which was on the ice of the Yukon River in Alaska, and our first run in the fall of this new season. We could have hooked up the dogs to the ATV when we returned from Alaska, but the toll of so much ATV training last winter had eaten away at our gusto, so we didn’t. And this year, summer came in September. When our first hook-ups came, on a cool morning in late September, my mojo was back, and needless to say, the dogs were ready to run.
I thought about the Yukon ice though, even as we rolled through a forest of maples. Did the dogs remember what it was like to lose their pep? Look at them now, eager to pull, every tug tight, some dogs screaming to go for a quarter mile, their enthusiasm so great. We all needed this. We all wanted to be here, no pressure, having fun. Easy.
After leaving Alaska last spring, my emotional rollercoaster ran the highs of racing in such an inspiring landscape, in a place made for dog mushing, where mushing is the state sport. I wanted, and still want another chance at reaching Nome with a dog team. But as the days and then months separated us from those days on the Iditarod trail, I lost my urgency to go back right away. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to take a year off, recuperate, sleep easy, train up the two-year-olds in the Beargrease Marathon and see what they can do. By mid-summer, this decision felt like the right one.
And so, somehow, what used to be our all out full training schedule for Beargrease and other 200-plus mile races has now become a rest year. This doesn’t mean we won’t work hard, in fact, I’m already up early each morning, catching the morning “cool” before temps rise above fifty degrees to get the morning training run in, then doing all the other parts of my day, which as of late has included two jobs. One wonderful addition to the Sawtooth Racing team is a new handler, Kendra, who has some experience working with dogs at Camp Menogyn and also running tours on the glaciers of Alaska, and she is looking forward to working with racing dogs here this winter.
Our future success at this time lies within our two-year-olds. We have eight of them. Last year they all ran many miles in front of the ATV in hopes of racing, but when the snow never came, their racing dreams didn’t come to fruition, a condition shared by many mushers in the lower 48. These younger dogs all stayed home last winter when the rest of the kennel went to Alaska. This year is different. They are part of the main team.
Che’, a son of our leader Temper, I discovered on a short run last winter, is a natural leader. I have him running side-by-side with his dad, and he doesn’t falter. Will he run lead in Beargrease as a two-year-old? His brother Dino, named for Sandino, is one of the most handsome hunks of a young dog I have ever seen, and yet, has this look of complete stoicism when everyone else is going crazy on the line. I am quite curious to see how he turns out.
Brothers Monster and Riot are so hard to harness, they are clearly trying to live up to their energy drink names, they are writhing, thrashing, heaving creatures, impossible to get a hold of. But once on the line, they focus that energy into forward movement and a straight tug.
New to us is a dog named Modica, also two, who came from my mushing friend Sally Manikian, and of similar lines as many of our dogs. He’s all black, has a beautiful trot, and is cross-eyed, so I can’t quite tell if he actually sees me or not.
Our race schedule and training plan won’t differ much from previous years, with the exception of our hope to add a race called “Race to the Sky” in Montana. I am greatly looking forward to running a much lighter sled than what I ran in Iditarod, having some help at most checkpoints and while anything can happen, I think the trails down here are a bit easier as well. Easy. I may come to eat that word, but for now, I’m training like it’s hard, and resting easy at night.
