Today’s pictures are kindly provided by JR Becko. It was a perfect day for mushing: Sunny, blue skies after a clear, cold night.
Hey, I am Viking, one of the strongest wheel dogs in the yard.
I don’t look like a sled dog?
I have heard that a million times.
They always make fun of me.
I am an Alaskan Husky! Like everybody else in the yard. Just because I look like a Lab…
Anyways, I am even keeled. Not much that bothers me. I like our new guy. He always gives me a bit extra. I think it’s because I show my excitement, when the food arrives. Yep, I am a good eater. I have a thick fur. I am in good health. Life is good.
See my buddy Tiger in the background? We ran a lot together at the beginning of the season. He is blind! I have been very patient with him. He is so unruly at the start of each run. He barks and jerks as soon as he gets put on the gang line. Well he can’t see, so he thinks we are going to run any time now, even there is nobody in the sled yet. So, Tiger gets very anxious and that’s when he snaps at me, which our musher does not appreciate. So, for the last couple of weeks I have been running by myself. I like that. I have more space in the back and nobody is pulling the gang line sideways.
Last year I did bite another musher. I don’t actually remember why I snapped. Hey, it happened. Now they don’t let the kids getting close to me. Oh well. I have been good all year.
Another day in my office. Gotta run. See ya.
November 1, I arrived in Jackson, Wyoming with the prospect to become a musher.
What did I know about mushing? Not much…
Last year I saw 30 or so mushers with their dogs on the Iditarod, probably the toughest sled dog race on Earth. I saw them arrive early in the morning, before sunrise, during the day, and in the middle of the night. Calm, hurt, tired, elated, you name it.
I saw them cook breakfast, lunch, and dinner on a frozen lake for the dogs. The team always comes first. Then they dipped their frozen food into the same pot of boiling water to eat last.
I saw some beaten teams arrive hours and days later. Mushers with concussions, hurt dogs…
Never did it occur to me that I wanted to become a musher, although gliding through a winter wonderland propelled by a group of sled dogs looked appealing.
Sometime in October this year I contemplated what to do this winter. I thought about spending the winter on a warm island.
That did not happen, for whatever reason. Karma? Life is a strange sequence of events, leading us to places that we not even dream of.
I replied to an ad on Coolworks to spend the winter in Wyoming as a dog musher. I had visited Wyoming only a few times before, never enough time to climb in the Tetons, or to make it to Yellowstone. Then, I remember a beautiful climbing trip in the Wind River range. All the more reason to go. Although I had the worst cell connecction during my phone interview I landed a job offer to be a musher leading visitors on day trips into the backcountry of Teton County.
What an experience it has been so far. I was very intimidated in the beginning by the howling, barking, jumping and jerking of these sled dogs. They seem so fragile and small on one hand, but they are powerful and energetic on the other hand. And they have personalities you would not believe it. Pulling a sled is their life purpose. That’s what they are bred for, it’s in their blood. Once they see a sled and some dogs getting hooked up to the gang line they are going „ballistic“. „Take me! Take me!“ they seem to bark all at the same time.