I've got sunshine on a cloudy day

OK. I've comendeered the office computer and without further delay, I'd like to share some photos. Things are still going really well here. The tourists are actually pretty damn cool for the most part. I made a $100 tip the other day on one 20-minute tour.
The dogs are still enjoying it, though some are getting a little bored with it all. One of the mushers got fired yesterday so we're short a musher and two teams. That means the dogs are going to be running a lot more and we'll be making bank with all the overtime. I hope we find someone soon, though, just for the dogs' sake. If any mushers out there are reading this and need a very well-paying summer job, send a message. It's great for the dogs.
Lastly, I'd just like to remind everyone that it's my birthday next Saturday so if you haven't already put your packages in the mail, you better do it tomorrow. Of course I'm just kidding. (No, I'm not.)
Peace.

The footbridge over the creek in front of the dog camp.

The spirit bear that hangs out near horse camp. Gawd I love this place.

My cabin. I love it! Sam was here last week and built me a bunch if shelves.

My girl Capiche with the wrong name tag on her house...She is a tough cookie...

Little Archer at home in the forest.

One of the many spectacular views.

Puppies being too cute as usual.

Musher Clark giving a kennel talk to the tourists.

A tourist lovin' up a sled dog after a tour.

Musher Cara and handler Laura on a tour.

Alex the dog.

Iditarod musher Rich. He finished 69th.

Ritchie never met a bike that he didn't want to ride

OK! Here I am. Back again. In a really, really annoying wireless place. I hope you guys appreciate it. I actually don't have that many photos but I'll add more later. Like it or lump it. Things are going really well here in Skagtown. The dogs, as they have been since the start, are awesome. As much as I like to poke fun at the tourists, I have actually met some really, really cool people. Cool people on the cruise ship? Why, yes! People who are genuinely interested in what it is I do and wish me good luck in my future races in earnest. I like those people and those are the tourists I turn my attention to. Some of the guests we get though are really, really big douche bags. The ones who ask me why PETA doesn't get involved or the ones who ask if the dogs are in pain....to which I respond 'if pulling this cart around was hurting them, do you really think they'd be wagging their tails, you halfwit??' I don't say the halfwit part of course, but I would love to.
The bears are out in force but so far, without any incidents. I still like the people I work with, for the most part and I've got this job down pretty good, I'd say.
I think Capiche might be knocked up. She got bred by Drake, a good leader I bought from Dan Kaduce. If she is prego, it'll be a good breeding, so I'm OK with it. The dogs are changing here. They're getting stronger and becoming more responsive to me. I spend every day, all day with them and it's probably the best job I've ever had. I get paid well to hang out with dogs all day. I'm really excited for this winter and the racing season. Anyway, I'll write more later. Here are some random pics from first few days here. WAIT! The photos are not uploading and I'm ready to set this laptop on fire, so no photos....again. Sorry.
Peace.

I never met a Toby I didn't like

OK. I found a spot in town with wireless but forgot my power cord at the ranch so no photos yet. Soon. Stay with me here, people. The job is still going well but my team is slowing down a little. We had a weird Alaska heatwave here last week and it completely sapped my dogs. So much so that we had to get off the hill early because my dogs just wouldn't pull in the heat. Smart dogs. Other people's teams seem to be handling it better and the weather has cooled off today so let's hope for more cold and rain....I never thought I'd be saying that. Things are rolling along here. The tourists are still the same. Some are amazing and some are meh. Lots of questions, some good and some frustrating. Like when people ask if the dogs really like it. Um, do you really think they'd be wagging their tails and screaming like maniacs if they didn't? Duh. Probably the most-asked questions I get are 'Do you run these dogs on snow?' or 'Have you seen 8 Below?' or 'Why are they so small?'
Every freakin' day it's the same. Sometimes I take the time to explain everything and sometimes, if I'm tired or hot or both, I give the short answer. "Because." Just kidding. Sometimes I'll pawn off the really stupid questions on my handler. "That's a good question and Nick's going to explain the answer to you."
My handler will make up something that, if it's close enough to the truth, I'll let slide.
My little cabin on the bluff is perfect and the people, for the most part, are still loads of fun. Drama is unfolding every day and it's pretty funny to watch while trying to keep my fat yap shut and not get involved. Anyway, Sam's coming in a couple weeks and I'm really excited to see him. I've been missing him more and more lately, now that all the 'new job' fun is over and I'm settling into a routine.
I guess the only thing that I would change about my little cabin is to have an outhouse. Poopin' in the woods just ain't what it used to be now that the mosquitoes are awake and hungry. Enough said.
Peace.

Tyler Michaels got fired!

I just have to start by saying that I have the best blog readers in the world! Thanks, guys and gals for boosting my already-inflated ego. I love you all. Skagtown is fan-freakin'-tastic. Except of course that Tyler (a horse guide) actually did get fired and I'll miss him and his big white dog named Clifford. I think that Tyler getting canned is the only gossip...oh, Nick and Tessa hooked up after the company party on Saturday. And Joe got laid. OK, that's all I know, I swear. Today I ran a team in the morning with some really nice guests and did kennel talks in the afternoon. That's where I stand in front of the group and talk about mushing, my experiences and introduce them to one of my dogs. Usually I use Bully, but today I took Hitchcock and she was a superstar. I totally love my job and I haven't been able to say that in earnest in a really long time. It's been hot and sunny here which is great for me but hot for the dogs. I threw Bully in the creek today. He's still pouting. I think I'm have a bit of a pre-mid-life crisis. Everyone here is in their early '20s and though I get along with them all great and can relate surprisingly well, the age gap still bugs me a little bit. For the first time in a while, I wish I was five years younger. But then Sam would be 20 years older then me and that's just creepy. Sigh. OK, photos to come, I promise. Hang in there. I've been preoccupied with this dog thing. I think this job will provide a good opportunity to snag a few sponsors for my Yukon Quest plight. Maybe even Iditarod? Yikes. I get nervous just thinking about it and it's years away.
Anyway, time to go back to Dyea. I love it here.
Peace.

I told you I was trouble and you know I'm no good

It always amazes me how people get offended by my blog. How about this: Stop reading it, then!
So, I found a wireless connection but haven't made it there yet. Work is going to get nuts this week with back to back to back tours starting at 7 a.m. and ending around 6 p.m. All I want to do after work is sleep. Today was a slow day so we trained for a while now we're in town trying to relax before the onslaught next week. I'm really loving it here. It's so great for the dogs and the pay is pretty darn good. The people I work with are great. Have I already said all this? Probably. OK, photos and more stories soon, I promise. (Really, really offensive and judgmental stories.)
Peace.

I know you are but what am I?

Finally got to town before six to update. I have tomorrow off, so I'm going to find a wireless spot so I can post photos.
Here's a quick rundown on what's goin' on here in Skagtown.
I love my job.
My body is sore.
I sleep like a rock.
My hands are callused.
My dogs are awesome.
Richard Savoyski should be shot.
I'm smoking more now than I ever have in my life. (I know, I know.)
Skagway's cool...sort of...
The tourists are really nice. (It's true)
I've had some HIGH-larious questions from said tourists.
I work with amazingly cool people.
I work some real boners.
I miss Sam.
I bring dogs into my cabin every night.
Bully is a crowd favourite.
So is Hitchcock.
It rains a lot here.
I've never been so dirty in my life.
Despite the lack of Sam, I'm loving this.
More tomorrow.
Peace.

We sure are cute for two ugly people

I wish I had a wireless connection so I could post photos. I ran into a tree with my face a couple days ago and have a huge gash on my cheek. Apparently it makes me look tough. Then, yesterday, I got bit by Parker trying to break up a fight and have big bruises and punctures on my forearm. Other than those mishaps things have been going rather well. I've had a couple shiny, happy fits of rage but that's just because hooking up 16 dogs is freakin' stressful, especially when your boss is standing there telling you to hurry. (Plus, I'm PMSing)
The tourists have been really great and the dogs are having a fantastic time. I love my cabin up on the cliff and the people are actually pretty dang nice. I've learned to tune out the obnoxious ones. I've been driving the mosterous cart that holds the (mostly fat) tourists and haven't crashed it yet. I did hit a rock pile and yesterday I took out a water bucket but I just made a joke about getting extra points for hitting the buckets and we all laughed in that fake-touristy kind of way. I'm really getting into this.
Tomorrow I do kennel talks for the morning which means I just blather on about mushing and my adventures and racing etc. Should be fun. I'm going to have Bully there as a model sled dog. Yesterday Bully bit the end of Hershey's (a borrowed dog) tail off. Hershey didn't even notice and he wagged his tail, spraying blood all over everything. Bully just sat there smiling. I wrapped the tail and popped some antibiotics in Hershey and today he's still as happy as ever. That's not like Bully to do something like that, but Hershey is pretty annoying and must have stuck his butt in Bull's face one too many times.
Let's see what else?
I guess that's it for now. It's beautful here and the dogs are almost as happy as they are in winter, so therefore I'm happy.
Miss you, Fairbanks!
Peace.

If I die of vanity, promise me to bury me someplace I don't want to be

So here I am in the coffee shop again in Skagway. This is one of three days this summer that we don't have a cruise ship and therefore the whole camp has a day off. Things are going well. We had our first tours yesterday and I handled for a musher to get the hang of things before I start doing my own tours tomorrow. I'm a little nervous, but the tourists thus far have been really into it and everyone at work is really cool. Except for one bastard of an Iditarod musher. He's vulgar and curses more than a truck driver. His name? Well, it starts with R and ends with ich. He placed really shitty in Iditarod and thinks he's all that and a bag of chips. He's actually pretty cool but just needs a little beat down every once in a while to put him in his place. He'll come around. Pretty much everyone that works here is really young. It's only mildly annoying. I can't really name names because I don't want to get in trouble but Blank is a real blanking blank. And Blank is blank and sometimes she's very blank. Blank and Blank are cool, I mean blank, but sometimes they're so blank, it's blank.
Blank.
The dogs are settling in nicely and I'm looking forward to the summer. The bears are worrisome but I'll survive. And if I don't, well, getting eaten by a griz isn't the worst way to go. If I don't post again for let's say 10 days, I'm inside a bear belly. Send help.
Peace

Beware of bears and offensive Iditarod mushers

Well, Jesus, I made it. I made it Skagway after a crazy 14-hour drive, two nights in Whitehorse and 26 crazy dogs. I'm living in Dyea, just outside of Skagway and internet access has been sketchy. I'm at a coffee shop right now, still on the hunt for a wifi location. Skagway is a little port town that was once a bustling city at the turn of the century during the Klondike Gold Rush. Now it caters mostly to tourists. There are some year-round inhabitants and lots of seasonal workers like me, so it's been fun meeting new people. The cruise ships have yet to arrive. But once they do, the boardwalks in Skagway will be packed shoulder to shoulder with white-haired grannies and grampies from Vermont and Florida. With their white shoes and colour-coordinated track suits, the tourists here are easy to spot. Meanwhile, back at the ranch...
I have a sweet little cabin high up on a rock cliff. My dog lot is on the next bluff below me. The dogs are in heaven here. It's cool and with big trees all around, there is plenty of shade. So far I've been tending to my dogs and doing odd jobs around the camp to get ready for the onslaught of visitors. Our first tours (16-dog teams pulling wheeled carts with six tourists, one musher and one handler) begin on Monday. Yesterday I got a crash course (literally) in driving those carts. I only hooked up 12 dogs because the cart wasn't full and yet my dogs still seemed to struggle. We have to turn the team around 180 degrees at the end of each one-mile tour and that really confused Bully and Capiche. By the fourth run, they were ready to give me the finger and call it a day. We stopped then thank goodness. They'll get it, I'm sure, this is new for me and the dogs. I really think I'm going to like it here. The people, for the most part, are really cool. And there are around 300 dogs so there's always doggie love to have. Once the season gets rolling, it's going to be a lot of work, but I'm ready.
Sorry if this post is all over the place, but I'm trying to get it all in.
Oh yeah, there's a huge bear problem at the camp, so I'm getting nervous about that...more later
I'm running out of time.
Peace.

Houston, we have a launcher

OK. It's 9 p.m. and I just got home from a day of collecting dogs and saying my good-byes. I have my 26 ready to go and am about load the truck with my gear. I'm freakin' out, man. No. I'm not. I'm ready. I think. Would it be too vain if I brought a mirror along? I mean, I'm pretty sure my cabin won't have one and if I head out to greet the tourists one morning with a giant booger, well, that's just not good for business, right? So, yeah, I'll bring a mirror. OK. Pack mirror. I don't know when I'll be able to post again but as soon as I'm able, you know I will. So, to all my homies in Fairbanks, have a good Interior Alaska summer. I'll be having a fun, albeit soggy, summer in Southeast. And to everyone else, wherever you are, have a good summer. OK, still lots to do. Wish me luck!!
Peace.

If I were a flower growing wild and free

It's snowing. Again. Still. What the holy deuce is going on 'round here?
Here are bunch of random photos from the past few weeks. I'm pretty much packed to leave for the summer. If you can believe that one. Now it's time to relax and enjoy my final days of Fairbanks. In spring? Winter? Spinter? I hope the weather clears for the big drive. I've made arrangements to stay with musher friends Hugh and Tamra on Monday night to break up the long haul. My stomach is in knots.
Peace.


My Gran. I only hope that when I'm her age, I'm equally as witty, pretty and smarty as she is. I also hope that I can wear pink as well as she does and that I have a hot red, electric wheelchair like she does. Woot Woot!

Sneaky Pete running wild and free.

Summer!

My littles. Roy and Hazel cuddling on the couch.

My potatoes. Ruffles, Bully and Roy.


Snowy days are gone. Or are they?

If you were a wink, I'd be a nod

You take the good, you take the bad, you take them all and there you have The Facts of Life.
I always felt like I could relate most to Natalie, the chubby, shiny one. She was always happy. At least she was in my mind's eye. These days I feel more like Joe. The greasy, surly, boyish one. I've been wearing Carhartts, a sweatshirt and my muck boots since returning from Ontario. I feel masculine. And not in a good way. Tonight I'm going out with my girls and I might be so bold as to put on some mascara. Probably not, though, but I might wear a bra and that always makes me feel like a lady. I also feel a little like Tootie today. Not because of her unforgettable characteristics but because of her name. I've been Tootie-ing for over a week now. My stomach is still wonky after single-handedly stimulating the Canadian fastfood industry whilst I was in Kingston with my sister. I feel dirty. At least (and I mean at the very least) I ate at Canadian chains: Harvey's, Swiss Chalet, Tim Hortons, etc.
My sissy and I went to Baskin Robbins twice in one day. Don't judge me.
I'm eating ice cream as I write this. Please, please don't judge me.
I'm contemplating having another bowl after this one. OK, you can judge me on that one.
I had pizza for breakfast. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME??
Christ.
I'm not worried. In less than a week, I'll be working my ass off (literally) in Skagway while living on meager rations in a waterless, powerless cabin.
I always shed weight in the summer and especially while doing physical labour for someone else. In Finland, I dropped 30 pounds in four months.
You'd think I'd lose weight in winter what with all the physical activity, winter camping, chopping, surviving I do.
But the thing about working hard out in the cold is that when you finally do come inside, face red and burning from the temperature change, all you want heavy, comfort foods. And for me, I feel like I can eat anything after working hard in the cold. I can't and that explains my oversized ass and thighs at the moment.
Hazel's been in the house for two days. She was spayed Tuesday and is recovering nicely. She's been so good, I decided to just leave her in the house. For those keeping track, it turns out she wasn't pregnant after all. Good thing. I don't feel so bad now.
Anyway, I'm stressing over the move, so I should go and pack some more. And by pack, I mean eat more ice cream. Kidding. (wink)
Peace.

A picture is worth a thousand bucks

Johnson and I spent most of yesterday loafing on the porch, drinking coffee and contemplating life. (That took all of five minutes.) Then we hauled out a bag of golf balls and a driver from the back of his Subaru and took turns whacking balls off the house pad into the woods. The sturdy thwack of the balls hitting the trees was extremely satisfying. Only one ricocheted directly back at us. It landed in Sister's circle. She picked it up and buried it in the straw inside her house like a precious egg. I promptly retrieved the ball/egg from its new nest and fired it off a snow-tee into the woods again. What fun! (Sister's still pouting.) After a while we got sick of the golf club so we switched to a Louisville Slugger. Believe it or not, it was even more satisfying.

The temps here are soaring and the snow is slowly receding. The dog yard is a soupy, poopy mess. I leave a week from today for my summer of dog fun in Skagway. This week, I am free and clear of assignments and am focusing on organizing my shit gear to get ready for five months in the Southeast. I have about 10 lists going and have done little, if nothing, on any of said lists. I've got time.
Peace.

I am the very model of a modern Major-General

I have returned. Relatively unscathed. I got back to Fairbanks in the wee hours of Saturday to a heap of new snow and sub zero temperatures. Quite a change from 75 degrees in Eastern Ontario. The trip was fantastic. Quick and dirty. I got to visit with my Gran and stayed with my sister, her husband and my new nephew Jaden for three days in Kingston. I also visited with some old friends which was really nice. Of course, there were plenty of people I wanted to see but time simply did not allow. Next time, I promise.
I have a week until I leave for Skagway for the summer, so I'll be busy packing my winter gear away and organizing gear to take south. The dogs were really happy to see me. Sally and Kat actually jumped up on me with tails wagging...they never do that...
Sam is in Missouri helping his mother move from a big, lake-front house into an apartment in Kansas. He'll be back tomorrow.
Here are some photos from the trip with more to come when Sam gets back with his camera.
Peace.

Me and my nephew...who looks more uncomfortable?

A happy boy, that's for sure.



Here's Buddy, my parents' dog, chasing ducks on our front lawn.

Every day is Earth Day

I'm in Kingston, Ontario, staying with my sister and her hubby and my new nephew, Jaden. He's frackin' adorable! He smiles ALL the time. I think it must be me. Sam's back in Brockville (Brockvegas, Brockapulco)with pops working at the Sugar Bush (that's a real place.) We went and saw my Gran and she looks great. Yes, T, I will show her the toque. So far, I've eaten my weight in junk food and have loved every second of it. I've visited some old friends and slept like a log (a snoring one) in my old bed. It's nice to be home. In Canada. More later with lots of pics.
Peace.

Look out Gran, here we come!

We leave tomorrow for Ontario. I'm really excited to see my old hood. And by hood, I mean house in the country. Sam's visit will be cut short by a few days as he is now going to go to Missouri to help his mom move. At least he will get to be in my hometown for a couple days and will get to meet my Gran. I hope he passes her 10-point inspection. He's looking forward to showing her his teeth. Anyway, I have a ton to do before we fly away from here. I'll try to post from the airport in Chicago with some funny 'vanillas in the airport' photos.
PeaCE

Tell me about the rabbits, George

One Christmas, when we were kids, my sister got a remote-controlled car under the tree. Actually, it was a Barbi Jeep, but that's neither here nor there. She opened the box, popped a couple of double-A batteries into the remote, crammed ol' Babs in the driver's seat and promptly, without hesitation, drove the thing down the stairs. It broke and we cried.
The act wasn't malicious, we didn't want it to break, we wanted to test it. But, sadly, the off-road trip was a little too extreme and we lost everything. (Except Barbi, that skank will be around forever.)
The reason I'm telling this story is because I think the commenters on the News-Miner site often go way too far. And if they keep testing the boundaries this way, the whole thing is going to go away.
DON'T SQUEEZE THE RABBITS SO TIGHT, LENNIE!
Some of the people who comment start off OK, but inevitably these bored, sad souls end up bickering with each other and petty name-calling usually ensues. And most of the time, the arguments have nothing to do with the original story. (One story on the site about poaching in Denali Park set off a string of comments about Britney Spears...seriously.) I mean, at least with letters to the editor, people have to stop for a second to think about what they're writing and sending, but it seems people will write anything at all hours on the website.
The comments are controlled, and slanderous or vulgar comments are removed post haste but a lot slide through that are just idiotic and unnecessarily rude. It's amazing how people feel like they have carte blanche to be assholes when they hide behind the name 'Anonymous.'
Peace

This is one doodle that can't be undid, Homeskillet

Strange weather we're having, eh? It's snowing, it's melting, it's freezing, it's melting, it's snowing...make up your mind!!
Well, not much going on here.
Roy's still in a coma and Ruffles is one happy biddy because of it. Even though she was getting pretty good at the ol' tuck-and-roll every time Roy would push her down the hill, she's excited to have a little break from the obnoxious pup.
I'm working on a couple late stories for next month's issue of Mushing Magazine and I'm going out to Chena Hot Springs tomorrow to cover NBC's 'The Today Show' out there doing a weekend piece about the geothermal plant. I'm heading down the Steese to Chatanika on Thursday morning to visit with mushers Dan Kaduce and Jodi Bailey. Dan's going to build me a racing sled for next season. I'm working on a business profile about Cooper Sleds out of Minnesota right now and I kind of want one those sleds, too. They're $1800, ultra light and super flexible. I was also looking at a Prairie Bilt sled, which are a little cheaper, but we'll see how much cash I have when the summer's over. I'm also trying to put together a sponsorship package for next year's racing season. Oh, and trying to get a few late season runs in before the dogs and I head to Skagway for five months.
Sam and I leave Saturday for Ontario and we're both pretty excited. Our friend Julie is going to stay at the cabin and watch the dogs for us.
Well, I guess that's it for now.
Peace
Oh yeah, check me out here.


Poor Roy.

Roy: Same great puppy, now with less boner

Roy's been catatonic since his episode. Poor guy.
As I said before, break-up here is a yucky, messy time. I spent an hour yesterday picking up crap that has appeared since the snow started melting. No matter how diligent I felt I was this winter, there were dozens of poo piles scattered around the property. Like stinky little landmines. I know, I know, lately my blog's been all dog poo and boners, boners and dog poo...
On a different note, my story about Iniakuk, along with Sam's awesome photos, came out today in the News-Miner. Check it out here .
I realize there are a couple errors in it, but I'm not taking the blame for those. That's why we have editors, right?
Anyway, I'm thinking of taking one more overnight trip into the White Mountains even though conditions might not be great. I just can't let go of the season. I'm not ready. Damn you, Spring!
Peace.

A $300 boner at two in the morning

Whew, what a night. Not a good night. Not a fun night. A nasty, long, expensive, boner-filled, screaming, crying kind of night.
At around 11 p.m. last night, Roy got a boner. This boner was different. It didn't go away. I waited and waited. "Think baseball, Roy. Think Margaret Thatcher..." Nope, nothing. He was in pain and completely freaked out. After about an hour I called the emergency vet clinic. They gave me some suggestions. A cold compress. Sugar water on the, er, affected area. Distraction in the form of a car ride. And I even reluctantly tried the final option. I put on a latex glove slathered on some Vaseline and tried to put the urethral bulb back into the preputial sheath. I know, this is gross, but what choice did I have? An expensive trip to the emergency clinic? If I just left it, it could damage the tissue even more and result in amputation. Regardless, nothing worked and I brought Roy into the vet at 1 a.m. First the Doc tried exactly what I did to no avail. Then she knocked Roy out and tried again. More drugs, more pushing, pulling, boner jokes, etc. An hour and a half later, Roy was at the maximum dose of knockout drugs and still had a raging hard-on. They had to pull out the scalpel. The doctor, between penis jokes, cut the prepuce to get the penis back in. She stitched it up and then added a couple more stitches so that Roy will never get another boner again.
Needless to say, Roy is not a happy camper today. Neither am I. I hate seeing my precious boy suffer. Also, the whole fiasco cost over $300. For a boner!
Roy is sporting a stiff (har har) and very uncomfortable collar that prevents him from getting to his wounds. He's on antibiotics still and now pain killers and, starting tonight, tranquilizers.
I have to say that now, I've seen everything. And still nothing fazes me. That's the joy of dog mushing, people. You see things that will haunt you forever and you deal with it. If I hear one more boner joke I'm going to set someone on fire, I swear, so don't do it!
And let this be a lesson to all you horny boys out there. Keep it in your pants! For the love of all that is holy, keep it in your pants.
Peace.

The Tail Wagon has been parked

Well, I think my mushing season is officially over. It's been upwards of 50 degrees in the Interior and things are melty and mucky. Break-up is a yucky time here. At least the outhouse is melting...it was very, very full. It rained yesterday and the trails are soupy, so my last trip into the White Mountains is effectively canceled. Boo Radley Hoo.
The dogs are in really good shape but are happy to lounge around with these warm afternoons. With spring comes the promise of warmer, sunny days but it also means horny, horny bitches. That's right, I have five females in heat right now and they're impossible. They pine for some lovin' and are sweet to the boys and nasty to each other. Women.
Roy got neutered last week so now I don't have to worry about any of my boys knocking up the ladies. Just a day after the surgery, he ripped the sutures out and is now on a heavy dose of antibiotics. He got his first boner last week and had a complete meltdown. Sorry if this is too graphic, but it really was funny. So he got wood, ran down to the lower yard and screamed and cried until I finally went down, picked him up and brought him in the house. The darn thing wouldn't go down. I kept telling him to think baseball, but it didn't work. Our friend John was over visiting and I think the whole thing was pretty uncomfortable for the boys. Not me. I just laughed. Men.
I wrote a feature story for the paper about Iniakuk and it will be available online on Sunday.
Sam and I leave for Ontari-ari-o on April 12 to visit my family and then when we get back on the 18th I get ready to head to Skagway for the summer.
Peace.

As clumsy as you've been, there's no one laughing (except Libby)

OK, here it is. I've watched it 600 times. My dogs shoot out like a rocket, I'm not on the metal brake because I'm on the road and lose my balance after hitting a berm. You can hear Libby chuckle in the background.

Berms and ditches are my kryptonite

Yesterday was my final hurrah for the racing season. I finished third in the 20-mile Valley Funale out in Two Rivers. There were seven of us in the 20-mile, 10-dog race. The trails were as hard as cement and extremely icy. When I wasn't squealing with delight as I skidded down the slippery trail, I was cursing the fracking ice and sharp corners. I also vowed several times to set my sled on fire as soon as I got back to the truck. I used my stout little toboggan sled, which is not flexible at all and I pretty much hate it now. (Instead of igniting it, I offered to sell it to another musher who was admiring it at the start.) Anyway, the dogs did really well as usual. Libby, her cojoin Paul Reuters and her visiting cousin Bill came out to cheer me on and Sam and pal Julie were there to handle for me. Um, let's see...anything else of significance to tell about the race? Uh, nope, don't think so. Oh yeah, I wiped out at the start and Libby got it on video. In my defense, a lot of people wiped out at the start. I mean, really, why the hell would the start chute include crossing two roads and going over snowbanks...with a fresh 10-dog team? I mean, come on. Anyway, I recovered from the fall within seconds and was actually impressed with myself. My wrist has rope burn on it and my knuckles are bloodied and raw, but other than that, I'm fine. Just a little stiff.
Will our mushing hero ever get out of a race start without falling again? Stay tuned. Actually, probably not.
Peace

Loved everything more than anything

Now I can check a couple more things off my to-do list before I kick it...the bucket that is.
Skydiving? Check.
Heli-boarding? Check.
Eating king crab for lunch on a Tuesday? Check.
Mushing in the most beautiful spot on earth with the best people ever? Check and check.
I still need to see Modest Mouse in concert, windsurf in Belize, drink a mojito at La Bodeguita in Havana, write a novel and make out with Sebastian Bach. (I know, I know, I'm married, but if Sam wanted to make out with, say, Dennis DeYoung, I'd be all for it...uh oh...here comes the visual...)
It's hard to know where to start this post. I guess I'll start at the beginning. We drove to Coldfoot last week in howling winds and whiteout conditions with 18 dogs, three dog sleds and a pocket full of high hopes and lint. The next morning, after spending a night in the cozy Coldfoot Inn (A bunch of ATCO units slapped together) and getting pissed when some old-lady tourists turned the one hotel TV (it had satellite, OK?) from Sex and the City to freakin' Wolf Blitzer...sheesh...we loaded half the dogs, all three sleds and me on the plane. The flight over to Iniakuk Lodge was amazing. The craggy mountains of the Brooks Range, the rivers snaking in and around, and tracks from countless caribou made for a non-stop gawkfest. The pilot was pretty damn cool, too.
The dogs handled the flight well. As soon as the engine started whirring and the plane lurched forward, they all froze, staying that way until we landed. The lodge itself is 30 years old. It's a gorgeous full-scribed log building. On the property there are several cabins, saunas and sheds - all log structures and all absolutely beautiful. Sam flew in on the second plane-load with the rest of the dogs, gear and the clients; Peter and Christine from Georgia. They are a young, enthusiastic couple who both work in the medical field.
We mushed each day and Peter and Christine both caught on really quickly...only a couple wipe outs but they handled it all like pros. The dogs took to them immediately. I had to borrow four dogs from Lance as I didn't have enough. Those Mackey dogs are strong, I tell ya, and were an added bonus for the clients. The weather was clear and sunny every day and though we didn't go too far by dogsled, we stretched out the glorious days by having trail lunches and taking our time to soak in the breathtaking scenery. It was fan-freakin-tastic. We skied and snowshoed when we weren't mushing...or eating. The chef, Philip, is a genius in the kitchen. Actually, John , the co-owner/guide knows his way around a pastry bag, too, but I have to say the dinners were a definite highlight. We had pork roast, filet mignon, salmon, caribou soup, king crab (for lunch!), homemade breads and pasta sauces...and don't even get me started on the desserts.
In the evenings, we'd share stories of our adventures while sipping coffee by the roaring fire. We watched slide shows of photos we had taken from that day's mushing excursion and go to bed exhausted, full and happy.
Peter and Christine were so nice; the perfect guests, I'd say. And John was the perfect picture of genuine Alaska hospitality. If it sounds like I'm gushing, I am. I can't help it. It was paradise 60 miles above the Arctic Circle in the middle of nowhere and I can't wait to go back. Thank you John and Pat for letting me into your Utopia.
Peace.
Oh yeah, so the title of the last post (thank you, McRudeness, for the comments...) Out of the blue Peter asked Sam and I if we "had BJs up here?" Of course, we just giggled. Apparently there is a big chain store called BJ's in the South and he was inquiring about whether or not we had that particular store up here. After tittering like adolescents for a few, Sam replied "uh, yeah, on a good night..." hee hee.

Anyway, here are some pics I took on the trip. Sam has a bunch too, but I have to dig them out, so get started on mine.

Iniakuk Lake from the air.


Dogs on a plane! Bull and Sally enjoy the view.


Peter and Christine out on the trail.


At our first trail lunch, I let the dogs loose to play. Here's Summer coming for a pet.


Best handler/husband ever.


Booties drying by the fire.


Philip, the kitchen wizard preparing bacon-wrapped scallops.


Room with a view.


I turned around backwards on my sled to get this one.


Christine and Peter with the Mackey dogs: Vinnie, Foster, Winter and Hayden.


The great and powerful John Gaedeke.


Hazel and Gus with their eyes on the prize: the bucket of food.


Even the outhouse was pretty.


The lodge.

Do you guys have BJs up here?

Um, yes, we do. More on that title later.
We're home! The trip was AMAZING! I mean really, really fantastic. Iniakuk Lodge is paradise. The dogs were superb, the guests were ridiculously nice, the guide/owner was so accommodating and kind; and the chef, well, he's in a class of his own. Needless to say the food was unbelievable. Sam and I are exhausted but drove the six hours home from Coldfoot (where we caught the plane to Iniakuk) with huge smiles on our faces...the dogs did too. OK, I'm going to bed so more on the trip and tons of photos tomorrow.
Whirled Peas.

No more baby-puggle-mama drama

What the hell kind of name is Bootsie? It's just so generic. So vanilla. Well, apparently it's the name of the puggle. Yes, we found the owner. And by we, I mean Mary-Beth and myself. Mary-Beth agreed to foster the dog for a while, but it was only for a day before the owner called. Bootsie had gone missing on March 8, a full week before she showed up here. The woman said she had called it in to the pound, but when I called the shelter to inquire, they said no. Hmmm. Anyway, the woman saw the add in the paper and called. I had a couple people interested in adopting her, so she would have gone to a great home either way.
OK, we're getting ready to go, so I'll post again when we get back from the mountains next week.
Peace.

Get your puggle on

Yep, Princess Consuela (I changed her name) is still here. Looks like no one is even looking for her. I'm not sure what we're going to do, but we can't keep her. Seriously, we can't keep her. No! I'm still trying to get gear and logistics organized for the Brooks Range trip. Sam's still in bed with the plague. He was starting to feel better but then went downhill again and today he says he's feeling better again. I may be going on this mountain adventure alone. Well, I'll have 18 dogs, a couple of tourists, the lodge owner and a chef, so I won't be totally alone. Either way I'm looking forward to it.
Anyway, here are some pics of the Open North American Championships which were this weekend. My friend John and I walked onto the trail from my yard to watch teams and get some photos. Also, here are some photos of Princess Consuela just in case I can tempt anyone into taking her. She's housebroken, calm, snuggly, quiet and sits on your lap while driving (and on the toilet).
Someone take her!!!
I'm still not smoking, but it's been very hard.
Peace.


ONAC dogs.
Johnny in a tree.

Monkeyman chimping in a tree. Chimping is what we in the biz call it when a photog looks at the back of the camera to see what photos they've got.

Magili Philip coming around a corner.


A team coming down the stretch.


Roy and Princess C on the porch this morning.


She's always on alert.


She needs a home away from sled dogs who want to eat her.

Oops, we did it again...

So last night there was a commotion in the dog yard. It was a peculiar cacophony of barks. It was the alarm bark mixed with a more aggressive "We're-going-to-kill-you" bark. At first I thought they had Ruffles but when I flicked on the yard light, I saw what they were barking at. A puppy. Not Roy, either. A new puppy. Or at least I thought it was a puppy. It turns out this strange dog that appeared last night is a Puggle. A cross between a pug and a beagle. She looks about a year or two old, is very small and friendly, and after several tries, it was Sam that finally caught her. I've named her Marcy, but we're not keeping her. She belongs to someone as she's got good weight on her and is a wearing a collar. She slept with me last night and is house trained, quiet and fearless. She ran through the dog yard and nobody attacked her. Roy keeps trying to bite her butt, but she snarls and sends him whimpering away. Anyway, I'm going to the pound to see if anyone has come looking for her yet. I don't want to turn her in yet as it's $100 to bail a dog out and so I'd rather find the owners. But if doesn't happen in the next day or two, I'll send her to the clink. Sam pretends he doesn't like her, but I think he does.
Peace

We need another couch...

A face only a mother could love...

Hot dogs and one dead-seal flop

I took 14 dogs out to North Pole today and it was bloody hot out - 20 F. The pups were feelin' the heat. We only did 12 miles because of the warm weather. The dogs did great at usual and I had a blast running 14 dogs. Man, can they fly... stopping was a big of an issue but my hooks managed to hold them for a second or two. Parker and Sipsi had issues with the heat and the speed. Parker had a hissy fit and threw herself on the ground at one point. I stopped and checked her out. She was fine, just a little hot. I doused her in snow and took it slow from then on, stopping every couple of miles to let the dogs eat snowcones and roll around.
Sam and I leave Wednesday for Coldfoot. From there we'll fly into Iniakuk Lodge. We're still getting gear together, but everything is coming together nicely. I'm borrowing four dogs from Lance Mackey for the trip to round out three teams. I hope the tourists know who he is and get a thrill out of running his dogs in the mountains...I know I will!
Anyway, I still want to smoke, but am coping...for now...thanks again for all the support...
Peace

My team.
I made Tamara take my camera partway through the run to get some blog photos...She ran 10 dogs and is getting ready for Taiga 300.

This is the face of a woman on the edge

Day 3
Weight: None of your damn business
Cigs: None!
Alcohol units: None
Coffee: A cup a day (as opposed to a pot per day I drank when I smoked)
Water: Lots
Exercise: More each day
So how do I feel? Like shit! I'm so edgy...
The thought of smoking has completely consumed me. It's all I think about. Driving is the worst. Mornings are not so bad. I drink a lot of water first thing and then exercise. Today I did a pilates DVD. Our TV is upstairs and so Sam was in bed (he's still very sick, but getting better) and I was doing my workout tape. He just watched (probably the skinny, scantily-clad chippies on the tape and not me) and then started critiquing my performance. "You're too spastic," he said to me.
It's a good thing he's so sick or else I'd have to put the smack down.
I talked to Theresa yesterday about the ciggie cravings. She suggested that instead of denying them, I explore them. Knowing that I won't give in, I'm trying to just let myself go when the cravings hit, instead of fighting them.
I'm not there yet.
I'm looking forward to writing about it, but right now it's just too hard. I'm shaky and fidgety. I can't sleep that well and I'm seriously considering punching Josh in the face. OK, well, on that note, I'm heading out to North Pole to run the dogs. I'm taking all 14, which is the biggest team I've ever run, so wish me luck. I'll take photos.
Peace.

Watch for bumps in the road

Well, tomorrow is it. My quit date. I've got a plan. I've got nicotine gum and nicotine patches are on the way courtesy of the State of Alaska. Today, I'm cleaning out the trucks before I go to work. I'm overwhelmed with all the support. Thank you so much, it means the world to me. Tomorrow morning, instead of sitting on the porch with my coffee and cigs, I'm getting up, having a glass of water, grabbing Gus and going for a walk. Gus is the only dog who will actually walk on a leash without pulling my arm off. Instead he trots ahead and when he feels resistance, he runs back to me and jumps up in my arms. It's super cute the first couple of times, but Gus weighs about 55 pounds, so it gets old fast. But, he's my walking buddy now whether he likes it or not. I'm looking forward to be a nonsmoker. To getting healthier. Sometimes I worry that I'm trying to change too much too fast, but I've made drastic life changes in the past and they've seemed to work out just fine. My quit coach is a nice guy, though I was disappointed to find out he's in Seattle, not Alaska. When I told him I was a dog musher, he asked if I was on the Iditarod trail right now. Uh, yeah, I took time out from the Iditarod to call you, you douche bag. Oh well, he was actually helpful and very nice so I let that one slide.
OK, say hello to Jillian the nonsmoker!
Peace.The aurora were rippin' the other night.

Where have all the cowboys gone?

This post is incredibly personal. If you don't want to know more of me than crazy mushing antics or unfounded rants, then stop reading now.
I started smoking at the age of 13. My sister and a friend down the road introduced me to the seductive and bad-ass world of cigarettes. We were rebels. Sneaking ciggies from friends' parents, finding the biggest butts in the ashtray and running off to puff our brains out. In high school, there was a clan that would gather between classes to smoke. My friend's brother bought me my first full pack of Du Maurier Lights. They stayed under the mattress of my bed forever. I contemplated taking the plunge. Diving into the world of 'my own packs.' I took that step and now, 17 years later, I still smoke. I don't know if any of those girls still do. In Whitehorse, I would hide it. I was the sports editor and would interview and photograph svelte athletes on a daily basis. How could I have any credibility if they saw me puffing away. So, even driving around town I was very aware about who might see me. My parents don't smoke and my father has been the biggest advocate of me quitting. A few years ago he said he would no longer accept Christmas or birthday gifts until I quit. That would be his gift. But no matter how much he pleaded, I still couldn't even begin to imagine quitting. Smoking is the ultimate addiction. It puts you in a strangle hold in so many different ways. Nicotine, tar and all the other carcinogens are just one facet. The physical act, the habit, the routine, nay ritual. I like it. I like smoking. I don't like the discerning looks, the cost or the stench, but I like how it makes feel. I need it.
But, now, after 17 years, I'm quitting. I have to. It's too hard. It's too much.
The final straw was a couple nights ago. I've been sick for about a week now and the other night I left work early because I was coughing so hard I kept throwing up. On the drive home, face still burning, lungs on fire, I lit up. I felt so disgusting and helpless. I knew then that it was time to say goodbye, once and for all, to my stinky lover.
This morning I called the Alaska Tobacco Control Alliance. They set me up with a quit coach. I'm going to buy some nicotine gum and hopefully that's all I will need. The problem is, I'm still so unsure about quitting. How will I have coffee in the morning? I sit on the porch with the dogs, smoking and drinking coffee. Or beer. How can I go out for beer and not smoke? I realize that this huge step will take some adjustments in regard to my other vices as well and that scares the crap out of me. Can I do this?
I have to.
I don't want to die.
I need support from you. And posting this, for the world to see, is a commitment in itself.
Peace.

Oh, I'll give you some sign language

I have completely lost my voice. Well, not completely. If I strain I can make pathetic little squeaking noises. Sam's in heaven. I am finally (finally!) silent. Sigh. Though I am feeling much better, i.e., I can actually walk around now, my throat is killing me and my voice has wandered off. I have to cover the Limited North American Championships (dog sled races) tomorrow, Saturday and Sunday for the paper. Maybe I should buy a chalkboard to write down my interview questions. I told the sports' editor I'd find a way and not to worry, it'll get done. Should be interesting. This morning I took a friend's father-in-law who is visiting from Croatia for a dog sled ride. This stealthy oldtimer wasn't riding in the basket though, no way. I hooked up a second sled to mine, clipped up all 10 race dogs and away we went. The dogs looked fantastic. I rarely let them lope full steam because we mostly do long runs, but today I knew it would be short so I let them go. What fun! We rounded a bend within the first five minutes and there was a moose on the trail. She leaped off the trail and trotted along side us for a minute. I forget the gentleman's name already, but he was so happy to see his first moose on the back of a dog sled...how Alaskan! He tipped once, but learned quickly and seconds later, we rounded another very steep corner. I looked back in time to see him up on one runner skidding around the turn with a huge grin on his face. He stayed on and did it fine style. What a guy! Sadly though, Lovro slipped Sam some cash for the ride while his father-in-law and I were out on the trail even though I told him I wanted to do it for free because I really love seeing people experience mushing for the first time. I think it's more fun for me to watch their faces. But thank you, Lovro.
So this weekend is busy covering the LNAC and working nights on the copy desk. Hopefully my voice returns. I hate depriving Sam of my rants, nagging and morning songs...
Peace.

Was Moses really just trippin'?

A word about my Hazel.
Hazel, my dog not my Gran, was born in 2004 out of Dirac and Edge at Windy Creek Kennel. That was the summer I took off from my job at the Yukon News to get a taste of dog handling in Alaska. Right away, Hazel was my favourite. I named her after my Gran. This tiny gray sweetie was the most outgoing of the litter. As a pup, she slept with me in my cabin and was always game for snuggles and puppy walks. Who would ever guess that just a couple years later, I would be living in Alaska and Hazel would be mine. In 2005, Hazel had a litter, but they did not survive and that changed her. Though she is still a little spitfire, she's weary and more cautious now.
In the team, she's always enthusiastic. I ran her in lead for a while last year, but her goofiness was not conducive with being a great lead dog. Even in swing, she would manage to pull the entire team off the trail to scoop snow or take a pee. This year, I started running her in wheel (the position directly in front of the sled). Wheel is usually reserved for bigger, stronger dogs, but in my experience, a smaller, more agile dog in wheel works best. Hazel found her spot. She is tiny, but mighty and is a very integral part of the team. She's as strong as any of my big males but more sensitive. When she gets tired, she pouts and will stop pulling. I always stop and make sure she's not injured and then with a few pets and kisses, she's lunging to go again. Hazel has a swimmer's body - big muscular shoulders and a slender lower half. She's at the front of the yard because she's the best guard dog there is. Her weariness of strangers always results in loud alarm barks whenever anyone enters the driveway. She's all smiles when I come out to greet her, though.
On the weekend in Nenana, she worked her butt off and on the second day, when I asked the team to give me just a little something extra, she was all for it. As a result, we knocked a good 24 minutes off our time from the previous day. Coming down the river to the finish line on Day 2, Hazel knew what was going on. She started screaming. A sound unlike any other I had heard from her. I slowed down and looked at her wondering if she had hurt herself. Nope. She knew we were about to finish and that scream was a rally cheer. 'Come on guys, let's bring it home!'
She put her head down and dug in. The rest of the team followed suit and within seconds of her cries, we were loping down the finish chute at warp speed. A crowd that had gathered on the river for the raising of the tripod (Tripod Days is what the weekend centers around...it's a long story) all turned to see what the commotion was. When they saw what was going on they all started cheering loudly. Even though I was sick, I stood up tall and proud and had the biggest smile on my face. My team. I could not have been prouder. And it was all because of my little mouse, Hazel. What a girl. All the troubles from the day before, my frustration and my aching body; it didn't matter any more. We finished strong and happy. And we weren't last!
I've recovered from my bout with the plague and will go back to work tomorrow. I'm busy getting details sorted out for my trip into the Brooks Range.
Peace.
NWT sprinter Brent Beck waxes his sled. He was second overall. Frackin' sprinters!




My bib. I was No. 2.

Me and the race marshal. I forget his name.


A musher unloads his sled. I like his kennel name.



The bridge over the Tanana River. If you look closely over to the right, near those trucks, you'll see the Tripod. Each year, during Tripod Days, a large tripod is erected on the ice. In Alaska's only lottery, people buy tickets and guess when the river will break up and when the tripod will fall. The tripod is attached to a clock and winner(s) have to be right on the day, hour and minute. Last year's jackpot was over $300,000. It's huge. The weekend also includes the Ice Classic dog race, snowmachine races, and tons of other fun and weird activities.

One of those other weird activities is a pop scramble. They chuck cans of soda down the street and kids have to run and collect as much as they can to win a prize. They used to have a beer scramble for adults but I think it got a little out of hand and thus was canceled. Welcome to Nenana, folks, where the local bar is open until 5 a.m. every day. Hooray!

Best weekend ever...until now

Am very sick...I hope death comes swiftly...Second day of race was frickin' amazing. I cut 25 minutes off my time from the first day finishing 40 miles in 3 hours and 56 minutes. I didn't fall off once. Hazel is my new superstar...I won back my entry fee. Am going back to bad to wait for death...Want my mommy...instead have Roy....not the same...more details and photos later...
Peace

Follow the dog-poop dotted, spruce-bow lined trail

The Nenana Ice Classic is a fun race and yes, this year it is actually 40 miles each day. Today the sun was shining and the wind was a whippin'. We made it through Day 1, however and came in ninth out of 10 teams. Even though they try to scare away the sprint teams, a few inevitably show up and whiz by in a blur of fur and shiny snowsuits. The distance mushers show up with big sleds and ripped parkas...ahem...
The dogs ran great and we finished 40.3 miles in 4 hours and 19 minutes which is a pretty good time for my slowcoaches. The fastest team, a sprint crew from the NWT did it in less than 3 hours. It was cold and windy at the start so there weren't really any spectators or volunteers and with no handler, I was scrambling to get the dogs hooked up in time. Oh well, now I know I can do it all myself. I biffed it a couple times along the way but that's nothing new. At least it wasn't right out of the gate. I also fell off the top of my dog truck at the end of the race...no one was left at the finish line to see and the last-place guy wasn't in yet. The trail was run mostly on the Tanana River, over sloughs and through some narrow wooded sections. The route was marked with spruce bows. Interesting. The good news is, if I finish I win back my $100 entry fee. Hooray! I'll try to take some photos tomorrow, I was just too nervous today.
Peace.