The euphoria of 4 inches of fresh snow was too much. Only an inch was forecast. This was like winning the snow lottery
without buying a ticket. I could not get
away from work till afternoon, when I gathered my mushing paraphernalia and started
getting ready. Icy winds made getting
the racks on the van a rather punishing task.
Then I sorted the gear in the sled bag.
Note to self, next time order the medium booties in a different color
than the small booties. I brought the
sled inside to check if the runners needed maintenance. The sight of our chariot began the fires of
anticipation in the dogs. Finally all
loaded I went to the town forest in Hollis, close, lovely, and in my mind
groomed. But there’s not enough snow for
grooming so I really knew they would not be.
My mind also envisioned the snow on top of frozen ground, a relatively
safe surface. Pure optimism as all the
rain we got converted most of the existing snow to ice. The parking lot was difficult to traverse on
foot, slick ice under the light snow.
The hitch went smoothly.
Then I turned and walked to the sled, stepped on the runners, and pulled
the release. IKE YOU IDIOT! He’s in the middle grabbing various lines in
a giant compulsive tug of war. And of
course now we are too far from my tie off so I have to fix this loose on the trail. I did not like Ike. My poor open dogs wanted to hide under the
sled. Ike did not much care. Finally off the run was not bad except for
one dreadful hill. This is always a
dreadful hill, steep and winding. A tree
sits on the inside of the curve at the top like a sled trap The taut line from
the climb pulls the sled right to that tree as the dogs curve left to continue
down the other side. I have to stop them
at the top and pull the sled out to the center of the trail, stand on the
brakes, and ask them on again. Except
today that hill was like a bob sled run with a dusting of snow on top. Today I had 6 dogs on the line, 4 of which
were crazy to go. Today, despite my
attempts to ease them into motion with a quiet word (and both feet on my bar
brake) they hurled themselves forward at the slightest whisper, whether it be
my voice or the wind in the trees. My
snow hook was useless on the ice. My drag
mat brake skittered along even with both feet on it. My bar brake couldn’t hold me even with all
my weight on the two studs. I managed to
piece them down the hill partially on the sled, partially leading, always
bellowing LIE DOWN. At the bottom, with
the dogs, sled and me in one piece, I said three Hail Mary’s and hopped on the
runners for the rest of the ride.
On my way out in the van I had been thinking to leave the
sled on top tonight and maybe go out after dark tomorrow. Now that I’m crystal clear on the trail
conditions I’ve put the sled away. Maybe
during the day Friday, but not after dark tomorrow. If I’m going to die in a cold New England
wood I’d like to see the winter sun one last time.
