Thursday, April 1, 2010
Tales from the Trail: Part 4
It was a long climb up and up. And even though we were finally off the river, we still had a headwind. The trail was well packed but the shoulders were very soft. I had to be careful not to doze off or lose focus or one runner would drop of the hard pack and I would be sucked into the snowbank requiring a lot of choice words and elbow grease to get back on the trail. Peter followed us most of the way up the mountain giving his leaders a little mental break. Once he passed us and we took a snack break, I caught glimpses of them on some of the long descending switchbacks.
After bedding down and feeding the dogs, I joined Bart in the tent to warm up, rest, and feed myself. Bart had arrived 2 hours before me and thus left 2 hours before me. Peter missed the turn and ended up camping alone on the river. I headed out at dark for the 50 miles on the Forty Mile River to the old 40 mile town site and cabin. The run was uneventful except that we crossed into Canada.
We arrived at the old 40 Mile cabin in the wee hours of the morning where I fed and bedded down the dogs are got some sleep myself. I woke up feeling under the weather but decided to ignore this fact as I pushed on to Dawson. This 50ish mile run was back on the Yukon River and seemed to take forever. I was ready to be in Dawson City, where I could shower and sleep in a bed, and the dogs were ready for a long rest.
Just as we were nearing the end of the run (or so I thought), we ran into some knee deep overflow coming off the river. How do I know it was knee deep? Because, again, like the first night out of Two Rivers, I got to spend some time standing in it trying to get the dogs to go through it. At least it was light out this time and I realized what was happening before they got too tangled. We made it through after some work on all our parts and I decided that since we were off the main body of the river we must be almost there and I would wait to wring out my boot liners until I got there. This ended up being a bad call as it was another 30 minutes or so before we got to Dawson. After 15 minutes, I stopped to squeeze out the liners and they wouldn't come out of the boots. They had already frozen in place.
After standing in water inside my 10 pound (apiece) boots, I was most definitely not in my cheeriest mood of the race when we arrived in Dawson. I got checked in, asked Anita if they had some dry boots in camp, and headed across the Yukon to our campsite. What a relief to get out of my boots and get the dogs bedded down for a long rest.
Having been so bundled up for the last 6 days, it was a wonderful relief to get out of the layers and a bit shocking to look in the mirror and see new bulges here and there from all the heaving I was having to do with a heavily loaded sled. We managed to find a late dinner and then I got to sleep for 8 hours straight. Brooke and Anita were kind enough to head back to the dog lot at 3am to feed and walk the dogs and make sure everyone was still tucked in for the night. I woke up the next morning with a cold and in the most physical pain of the race. Apparently, 8 hours was too long for me to stay in bed. I was so sore and stiff.
The three of us headed to the dog lot to feed, harness, and bootie the dogs, pack the sled, and make all the last minute preparations. I had to pack for 200 miles or 4 runs and 3 camps. I was carrying close to 150 pounds of dog food for this stretch. Plus a bale of straw. It was a heavy load. I also decided to drop Miss Cleo at this point as she was still having a hard time recovering from the big that she had gotten on the way to Dawson. Brooke told me she just needed 12 hours more than I had and was eating, drinking, and bouncing around shortly after we left.