Rain is just rain. Right? But, obviously, it bummed me out… lots! I guess that stems from living in Interior Alaska. Normally October to April is winter. It’s cold. Often very cold. Sometimes -30ºF or -40ºF for weeks on end. So rain and winter just don’t go together for me. My brain is hardwired to believe that winter is cold. The fact was that I was soaking wet and didn’t see any opportunities to dry my gear anytime soon. I was also confident that the temperatures were going to get cold again. If I remained drenched, I would be more than uncomfortable, I’d be hypothermic. So my brain was signaling: “Danger. Danger. Danger.” That’s an impossible alarm to ignore. And that’s why rain bothers me so much.
I talk about being miserable in the moment. Knowing that this moment will pass but still accepting the fact that I’m currently miserable. Everyone feels miserable once in a while. We hope that it will pass with time but there’s no reason to not admit what you’re feeling.
It rained on the Iditarod in 2013 as well. That year I did not have any rain gear packed. Since then I have packed a half a dozen cheap plastic rain ponchos. I used a few this year!
The rain became more of a light, occasional drizzle. That was great.
But the trail had soaked up much of the rain fall and had become a saturated, slushy mess. On the ‘good sections’ of trail the dogs’ paws didn’t sink too deeply into the slush because the trail was still somewhat frozen. My team could still navigate from good section to good section.
The ‘bad sections’ of trail were BAD! This is where the trail became a wide swath of Yukon flavored 7-Eleven slurpy. We were not in danger of dropping through the Yukon River. This slushy water was technically just “overflow” because it was water that was “flowing over” the icepack. But the depth of the water was deep. Some holes were over the dogs’ backs. My dogs tried desperately to avoid these bad sections. They dislike water as much as I do. That meant that they would zigzag often jumping over deep troughs of water. My sled was always the last part of the zigzag train and it would inevitably hit the deep troughs!
I always used a single lead dog here. This was so that only one dog would navigate and try to find the best route through the mess. But I did I rotate leaders every hour. I used Mismo, Spark and Dutch in the rotation. These guys felt a lot of pressure finding good trail because there really was NO good trail. It amazed me that they would continue to forge ahead.
I tried to give the team reasonable rest breaks. This video shows the team as we were stopped. This was one of the only spots where I could video how bad the trail was without having to stop the team in water. If the team seems a bit unenthused, they should! The conditions were deplorable.
I always ask my team “Are you ready?” before I ask them to continue down the trail. This gives all the dogs a chance to stop eating snow, stand up, turn around and face forward. You can see that Spark took his time getting ready to go. There was no way I was going to get upset at any dog for being tentative on some of the worst trail conditions I have mushed on in 25 years. Spark was basically saying “Are you sure?”. Yup. Eventually he took his position and looked back at me like “Yes… I guess I’m ready.” Good boy!
Wow….what a slog….bummer of a trail….with holes over the dogs backs??? Yikes! We will collectively hope for colder weather this year….I think we can all agree this warming trend is worrisome! Glad the miserable moments go away…good Team!
The term “musher” has taken on a new meaning for me.
Your team is so wonderful and loyal and eager as well as professional!
They must get it from their…musher!!!
Thanks so much for this couple of posts. WOOF WOOF WOOF to the single leaders!!!
I am amazed what the dogs will do for you, frankly, and as impressed as all get out.
Maybe we are in for a reprieve on the warming trend. Sandhill cranes came in early and all the fireweed went to fuzz in just one week. One can hope, at least.