Breaking trail

Proby, Tetlin, Electra, Ester and Banjo.

The weather was cooler on Sunday, cool enough to work the dogs.  Not many people have ventured across the river; the trail that we originally put in was swallowed up by an open lead that grew in size during a spell of warm weather.  I really wanted to get across the river, but I know better than to mess with open water.  Fortunately, there was another trail a little farther up the river.  I had heard it was rough, but I only found out how rough when I crossed with a hyped up team of 5 dogs!  My arms and shoulders were sore the next day from gripping the handle bars so tightly!

I especially wanted to get across the river because I wanted to have the dogs break trail to Bishop Lake.  Breaking trail means mushing through untouched snow; it can be slow and frustrating to the musher and the dogs, but it is an excellent exercise for the dogs.  It teaches them to slow down and pace themselves as opposed to running full out on a groomed trail.

We haven’t had a lot of snow this year, and the dogs were able to pull me through the snow just fine.  At one point a snowshoe hare burst out of the woods in front of us, and the dogs gave chase!  Soon they settled down again into their regular lope.  As we got closer to the lake, the trail became more rough.  Bishop lake is more of a pond surrounded by swampland.  Alaskan swamps need a lot of snow to fill in the holes before you can pass through them easily!

Soon we reached the windswept lake and circled around the edge to turn around.  The sun was setting, casting a golden glow on the drifts.

At the end of the run, I stepped off the sled with a sense of peace and serenity.  Just what I needed:)

Snowmachine Trip

sunrise on American Summit

This past weekend, Kathryn and I snowmachined 50 miles out the Taylor Highway to visit friends.  It had been warm in Eagle for a week and a half, the temperatures reaching into the 40s.  We dressed accordingly, not considering the cooler temperatures that occur on the other side of American Summit.  It took us 20 minutes to drive through the American Creek canyon, which is really a deep valley that the creek runs through and the road follows.  The trail is good this year; usually, the springs that gurgle down the ditches and through the culverts in the summer, freeze over the road and create sloping icefields in the winter, making a treacherous surface for snowmachines.  We climbed out of the valley and reached the summit at 9:40, in time to see the sunrise as we drove across the top.  We also saw two caribou running down the road!  Kay punched the throttle to catch up while I photographed them.

Once we reached the other side of the summit, Kay and I switched places.  My hands were getting cold at this point (I had been sitting on them to stave off the creeping frozen air), and I was looking forward to getting my hands on the hot grips (heated handlebars that every Alaskan snowmachine should be equipped with!).   Much to my chagrin, the hot grip on the right handlebar wasn’t working!  Kathryn and I were both chilled; it was 20 degrees cooler than it had been that morning in Eagle!  I drove for about ten miles, then had to stop and warm my right hand up on the left handle.  Kathryn had a pair of hand warmers under the seat, we each took one.  That helped for a while, but eventually we had to stop and run around to warm up.  As the feeling started coming back to my numb fingers, I had the odd feeling that my fingers were cut and bleeding.  They weren’t of course; it was just the sensation of the blood rushing back into them.

The whole trip lasted about two hours, so we weren’t in any danger of freezing to death.  However, I’m somewhat embarrassed about not dressing warmly enough!  I ought to know better!  Our friends kindly lent us gear for our return trip so it was much more comfortable!