(Hi Shaun and Christine and dog)
So, I've picked up an extra shift a week at the News-Miner, even though I told myself I would work no more than three days per week so that I would have time to freelance. Oh well. The rationale behind it is that when I work fulltime, I don't feel like doing much writing after that, thus freelancing (what I really want to do) takes a backseat. But, we'll see how this works out; it's just temporary. I just finished an article with photos on spec for the AP, which means I write it and then they decide if they want it. It's definitely a gamble, but it's a good story and it looks like they want to buy it, though it hasn't run yet. If they wait much longer, it won't be timely, but I think they would realize that. I hope, anyway. I got all the stories done (again) that mysteriously disappeared from my laptop.
The weather is great here and dogs are happy bathing in the sunshine.
I tried to bikejor with a couple of the dogs today. It didn't go well.
For those who don't know, bikejoring is when you hook a sled dog up to a mountain bike and pray you don't die. Skijoring is a popular sport here with one, two or three sled dogs that pull cross-country skiers. You have to be very, very good on skis to be good at skijoring.
I am not good on skis, so I thought I'd try bikejoring, as I'm good on a bike.
First, I got out Sam's old mountain bike. It's a Specialized that's at least two decades old.
John asked if I planned on riding it back to the ‘70s. Well done, John. Very clever.
But, it's Sam's so you know it's been well cared-for for all these years.
First I hooked up Gus. He was very confused and just kept jumping up on me whilst I was trying to pedal and tell him 'Ok! Let's go! Hike! Hike!'
Then I pulled out the big guns: Sister. She did a little better, but the big, metal contraption right on her heels scared her a little and, she too got confused. She got going a little bit, but then I let out a squeal of excitement at the speed and she ducked to the side for cover. It was fun, but I think I'll have to try Bully, or maybe two dogs at a time might work better.
Happy Birthday, Trisha!
I'm going to Whitehorse next weekend to say goodbye to dear, dear Kelly Crowe. She and her hubby are packing up and moving back to Ontario. The girls are having a shaker in her honour and I will be there to raise my beer high with the rest of them. Also, a Scottish friend Grant, whom I worked with in Finland, is coming over to Alaska to work with sled dogs for the summer. I'll meet him in Whitehorse and give him a ride to Fairbanks. Should be fun, but a really short trip with more driving than Whitehorsing. It's a 12-hour drive one way. I'll leave after work Wednesday at midnight and return on Sunday. Crazy, I know, but Kelly's worth it. I'm taking orders from all you Fairbankans for Canadian food, beer or whatever so let me know.
Me trying to tell Sister to go forward. She just wanted some love instead.
She's not pulling, but at least she's moving. This is our driveway down to the dogyard, by the way.
Since Sister and Gus were cut from the bikejor team, I thought I might have to resort to recruiting Ruffles. Maybe not. She's taken to plopping herself right in the doorway. I've stepped on her several times. I have to check if she's still breathing several times a day.
Hazel and I.