Mushing Isn't for Sissies

We took the dog sled out on a new trail today. I spent 40 minutes or so checking trails. My old favorite was icy and treacherous in places. I found a wide rail trail that had reasonable conditions. I wonder what the residents of the nice suburban homes by the entrance were thinking when my dogs were screaming like banshees while I hitched them up.

Our plan was to practice running at a more moderate pace as I’d been advised by experienced mushers. There was a road crossing so I had to stop them for that. They always launch out of a stop like rockets, and the far side of that road was no exception. It never even occurred to me that they’d immediately veer left off the huge lovely trail down a side trail into a field. It happened so fast. I made the left turn into the field. I didn’t make the following right turn to race down the field lengthwise. Flipped the sled and did something nasty to my ankle. Despite the pain I figured I’d best get up since the dogs were 100 yards down the field with the sled. Hard to yell LIE DOWN when you are already doing so yourself. After hobbling down to meet them I decided to continue on their trail choice since it would be easier than turning them around. Turns out their trail choice went up and down hills, around corners, hard and fast conditions, even a place I had to duck down to avoid getting knocked unconscious by the huge tree suspended across the trail. I kept hoping it would get better, spending much of the time standing on the drag mat brake.

Mushing isn’t for sissies.