We moved into the starting chute. Randy came by each one of us and gave us a big hug. We were ready. I heard the timekeeper say “30 seconds.” Lakota told me that Randy made a last minute check of our lines and harnesses.
“Fifteen seconds” and I heard Randy get on the runners.
“Five” and I heard the pups bark with excitement. They were ready to go.
“Four” and Doc yelled that this was just like old times. He was one happy dog!
“Three” and Lakota asked me if I was ready. “Yes,” I replied. “Let's rock!”
“Two” and Randy yells,” Team ready!”
“One” and then Randy's “Hike. Hike.” We all leaned into our harnesses and took off down the trail. The race was on, and so was this adventure. And the last voice I heard from the cheering crowd was Mike's: “Be safe and have fun.”
His Time Has Come Today!
The trail was very fast and we were making good time. Doc's strategy was to use the first few miles to get our stride and pace ourselves. He wanted to see what the other teams had. Our plan was to finish in good standing, get the pups, Christmas and Randy some race experience, and have a good time.
After a mile or so, the pups settled down and started to work with us in the team. We talked to them and they told us they were really enjoying this. I know that Tundra was watching every move Doc made and listening to every word Doc barked. She was very intent on learning from her hero.
The sled was a breeze to pull. It was very nimble and Randy was doing a great job of driving it. While we carried a lot more gear than was required, we had no trouble moving the sled at a very fast pace.
The pups surprised us by how powerful they were. Lakota told me that Doc's tug lines were barely taut, meaning that he was not pulling much weight. That is what Mike wanted, but I did not think Mike expected the pups to want to pull more than their share.
No teams passed us on the trail, which might have meant that all the other teams were holding back and would make their move tomorrow, after we had left the checkpoint. This is an experienced musher's strategy. I guessed the rookies were learning from the experienced mushers. Nitro wished he knew what position this Dylan character had started in. Was he in front of us or behind us?
The miles glided by and before we knew it, we were at the checkpoint for the overnight stay. After we pulled off the trail, the race officials checked our gear, to make sure we had all of the required stuff, and the trail vets gave us the once-over. They told Randy we all were okay, and told him where to set up camp for the night. Randy asked them if Dylan had come into the checkpoint. No, they told Randy, Dylan had not checked in yet. That meant he was behind us. Nitro was not happy with that.
Randy set up camp. He made a fire in the camp stove and cooked us a hot meal. Sure tasted like Mary's cooking…
Randy said, “Ms. Mary made us some special chow for the trail. Told me to make sure you all cleaned your bowls. So, please do that so I can tell her, and make her happy. You know she loves to cook for all of us. And she made me something special also.”
Lakota took his head out of his bowl long enough to tell me that Randy sat down near us and was really enjoying his chow. Ugly made a comment that Randy was sure enjoying his food. “You would think the kid never ate, by the way he is devouring his meal.”
We all figured that Randy did not eat well at the foster home. We guessed that was why Mike and Mary always scheduled chow time for when Randy was with us. Christmas told me that Mary always gave Randy a basket of food before he returned to the foster home.
After we ate, Randy gave us all a lot of individual attention and TLC. You could bet your last dog biscuit that we heaped a bunch of TLC on him also. After that, we just loafed. Ugly was telling some joke, while Nitro was telling bedtime stories to the pups, just like he used to do for Christmas.
I heard the sled pull into the checkpoint. Then I head several voices that were arguing. I could not make out what the voices were saying at first, but it sounded like a very intense argument. It became louder and I heard Musher GB and Musher Stan. Apparently, the musher who came into the checkpoint refused to let the vets check his dogs. I heard Musher GB tell the musher that if the vets did not check his dogs, the musher would be disqualified.
“Dylan, I am warning you for the last time. Let the vets check your dogs or else I will disqualify you from the race.” That was Musher GB.
So, Dylan was behind us. I told Nitro and all of the dogs to keep quiet so I could hear what was going on.
“GB.” It was Musher Stan. “These dogs have fresh welts on their rumps, and there is a jiggle stick with a strap attached to it on the top of the sled bag. These dogs have been whipped!” I could hear the anger in Musher Stan's voice.
“Did you beat these dogs, Dylan?” Musher GB asked.
“None of your business, they are my dogs,” Dylan replied.
“True, but dog beating is illegal and I will report you to the State Troopers,” Musher GB added. “Consider yourself disqualified from this race. Park your sled and I will have the vets tend to your dogs.
“No way, old man,” Dylan yelled. “Hike, Hike.” Then I heard the sled take off down the trail.
“You want me to go after him, GB?” Musher Stan asked.
“No, he has to show up back at the starting point in order to get home. I will call the troopers and ask them to be there in case he shows up before we do. He will have to stop to rest. By the looks of it, his team is in very bad shape and will lie down on him before long.” Musher GB continued, “Let's tell the other mushers to keep an eye out for Dylan on the trail, but also warn them that he may cause them trouble.”
In a short while, Musher Stan and Musher GB came by our camp to tell us about Dylan. Randy thanked them and told them that he had known Dylan was on the trail. Randy told Musher GB and Musher Stan that Mike had told him what precautions to take.
“You do what Mike told you to do, Randy,” Musher Stan said. “But if you need any help or have any trouble, just call out. I am camped a little ways down the trail from you.”
“Thank you Mister Stan, I will do that. Think I want to turn in now. I am kind of tired,” Randy said.
Good night Randy,” Musher GB said. “Have a good race.” I heard their footsteps fade in the night as they walked the trail to another team.
Bark about an interesting night. Lakota told me that Randy moved Doc into the sled basket as Mike had suggested, and then put Tundra in there also.
“Doc,” Randy said, “you did very well today, but I know you pushed yourself the last few miles. I know you are very tired so I am putting Tundra in the basket also. You rest while she guards the gear. Besides being a great watchdog, I know Tundra will like being near you tonight. Just do not tell her too many trail stories. You need your rest.”
Nitro told us that Randy moved the team into a circle instead of a straight line. Nitro said that Randy moved all of our gear to the center of the circle and laid out his sleeping bag by the gear. From the way Nitro described it, anyone or anything that wanted to steal our gear or bother Randy had to get through the ring of dogs. Nitro then told me that Randy took Lakota and Nitro out of the team and told them to stay by the gear and sleeping bag. That way, even if someone or something did get past the ring of dogs, they would have to deal with Nitro and Lakota, the team's biggest dogs, while still having the ring of dogs around them.
This was very smart. I started to wonder how Randy came up with this idea. I heard Sky and Stormy talking and they said “musk ox.”
“Musk ox?” I asked.
“Yes, Uncle Rivers,” Sky said. “When musk ox fear they will be attacked, they stand shoulder to shoulder and form a tight circle around their young. They face out toward the attacker. Musk ox are very big, so the attacker can not get into the circle, because they can not get past the musk ox.”
“Oh,” I said. “How did you know that?” I asked.
Stormy replied, “Randy told us. Actually, when we were
smaller and could not run with you, Randy would read to us. He told us that he was practicing his reading so that he could speak and read better. Randy said it was fun to read to us because if he made a mistake, we would not make fun of him. He wanted Mike to be proud of him, since Mike had encouraged him to read and write stories.”
“So,” Sky added, “he read to us about the musk ox and how they live in herds.”
Then Stormy added, “It looks like he remembered them, and decided that the circle would be a great way to protect us tonight, especially with that Dylan boy out there.”
Son of a dog! Randy read to the pups. No wonder they had learned so fast. Mike told Randy to use his wits and I bet Mike would be very proud of how Randy was doing just that.
Before Randy crawled into his sleeping bag, Brownie told me that Randy repositioned the dogs. Fin and Christmas were the lead dogs. Brownie and Sky were in the swing dog positions. Ugly and Stormy came next. The next position was empty since Nitro was inside the circle and Tundra was in the basket. I figured Randy would team them together. Lakota, who was also in the circle, would run with me. I had a hunch that Doc would get to ride the basket home.
“Doc,” Randy said. “You are riding home in the basket tomorrow. I do not want to take a chance on hurting you if I have to run the team very fast because of problems. I know Mike is proud of you for racing this far with us. Thank you.”
Ugly told me that Doc just nuzzled Randy. “It is okay, team,” Doc said. “Randy is right. This was a very smart decision he made. I want to lead you across the finish line, but my musher and my team must come before what I want to do. Christmas and Fin will do a great job of getting you home and keeping you out of trouble if necessary.”
Doc continues to amaze me. He is a true leader, in additional to being great friend.
I heard Randy crawl into his sleeping bag, and then both Nitro and Lakota lay down near Randy, probably curled up to him.
It was a peaceful dream. I was lying on fresh straw with a gentle breeze keeping the mosquitoes from bothering me. That is, it was peaceful until Tundra's barking woke me. I stood up, as did every other dog in the team. I heard footsteps. They stopped. Ugly told me that first Tundra and then Doc were barking in the direction of the woods across the trail from us. There was someone or something out there. Let me rephrase that… someone.
“Who is out there?” a voice yelled. No, it was not Randy's voice; he was being very quiet. There was no answer. I heard the footsteps get softer as they faded away into the night. I told the team that whoever it was had left our area.
“Tunny.” It was Doc. “You did very good job young lady, warning us about the stranger in the woods. I bet you saved us.”
“You okay Tundra?” It was her mother, Christmas. “Oh yes, Momma, I heard someone or something walking towards us. I did not recognize the scent, so I knew it was not Musher Stan or Musher GB. So I started to bark.”
“As Uncle Doc said, you did a very good job. Now settle down Tundra, and get some rest. Tomorrow will be a big day.”
“Yes Momma, good night,” Tundra said. You knew she was just beaming with pride that her Uncle Doc and her mother told her she did a good thing.
The rest of the night was uneventful and I figured it was first light when Randy got up, fixed us some hot chow, and got the team and gear ready for the run home. We heard other teams talk about a dog and some equipment that were missing. I wondered if Tundra's barking saved us from an unexpected and unwanted visitor. I bet Randy's circle not only protected him and us, but also confused the visitor. The intruder would expect a stung-out dog team, not a circle of dogs.
We broke camp and started back down the trail. We now entered our racing mode. The trail was fast and we raced along at a good pace. The hours and miles melted away. None of us was tiring. We actually were getting stronger, anticipating the finish of this race.
Lakota told me that the trail was wide enough for two dog teams to pass each other. So when another team came up behind us, I was not surprised that Randy did not move over to let them pass. What did surprise me was that the musher stayed behind us and yelling insults at Randy.
Why would a musher not want to pass us, and continue to insult Randy? Dylan!! It had to be him. Wanting to cause trouble, and try to steal our equipment. Maybe even steal one of us.
This was becoming scary.
Randy slowed us down a bit to let the other team pass. Randy probably thought the other musher just wanted to pass. Randy did not know what Dylan looked like.
Doc told us that the trail narrowed about a quarter mile up the trail, and we had about 2 miles to the finish line. Either this team had to pass us now or else one of teams would be run off the trail.
I heard the other team pick up speed and Lakota told me that the team was coming up even with us. Lakota told me that the dogs on the other team were in bad shape. I heard the anger in his voice. He did not have to say it, but I knew they were abused.
Doc told us that the musher had a jiggle stick with a strap on it and he was swinging it at Randy! He missed, but took another swipe at Randy's head.
Doc told us that the strap wrapped around Randy's arm. Randy held on to the strap as he yelled, “Banshee”. We took off and the sudden jerk of our team pulled the other musher off his sled. Doc told us the trail was narrowing, but soon we were way ahead of the other team. Randy started to slow us down and I thought he was going to stop us so that he could help the other team's dogs. But we heard Musher Stan's voice yell to Randy. “Finish the race. I saw what happened and will take care of Dylan, his team and the missing dog.” Fin told us that Musher Stan was driving his team up behind us. He was following us down the trail
Fin and Christmas were doing a fine job of leading. Ugly was telling jokes to the pups and Nitro said, to no dog in particular, “Did you see what Randy did? Now that was a smart move.” Yes, it was a very smart move. Randy must have known that the strap would not hurt him since his storm suit would protect him from it. Randy held onto the strap and started to pull on it as he yelled for us to take off down the trail. The sudden forward movement, plus the fact that Dylan was probably off balance on his sled runners, caused Dylan to fall off of his sled.
We entered the finish chute and I heard Mike come up beside the team. “Whoa,” Randy called out, telling us to stop. We did, and Fin told me that Mike grabbed the neckline between Fin and Christmas and guided us to our staging spot. I smelled the scent of our truck; it was there waiting to take us home. After the race officials checked out our equipment, I knew Mike or Randy would gave us a snack and some water, before loading us into the dog box to go home.
There was a lot of commotion and I heard that Musher Stan came in with Dylan in his basket and Dylan's sled in tow. Musher Stan talked to Musher GB and told him what had happened on the trail. Musher Stan said that the missing dog was tied into Dylan's team and the missing equipment was in Dylan's sled basket. All of the missing equipment had the owner's name on it.
“Hmmm,” said Musher GB, “I think we need the troopers. Sounds like we have a thief. And it looks like he beat these dogs again.”
Good, the missing dog was found and the stolen equipment would be retuned to its owner. I was sure that the troopers would take care of Dylan.
After we got our snacks and water, we rested a bit while Randy told Mike about the race. Mike kept telling Randy how smart he was for using the circle, and glad that the magic word helped. Mike told Randy that the dogs looked great after the race and even Doc looked good. “I am glad you pulled him, Randy, I was concerned about him.” Mike said.
Then Mike said, “Okay, Let's get these critters back into the dog box and head on home. We have all had enough excitement for a while.”
Now, we have a routine for this. Mike or Randy takes off our harnesses and allows us to wander back to the truck. That is, all but me. I walk with Mike, right by his side. He gives me commands so I do not bump into anything. I knew Randy would let Nitro and Lakota go next. Reme
mber, we have a routine.
“Where is that punk that pulled my boy off his sled? I want to teach him a lesson,” a voice yelled.
We all stopped. Lakota told me that a very big human was blocking Mike's way to the truck. Nitro told Lakota to stay with him beside Randy, in case this human wanted to harm Randy.
Christmas told me that the man had a knife, and to be careful.
Mike nudged me with his knee as he moved back a step or two. This was trouble.
“Who are you?” Mike asked with a lot of calmness in his voice.
“I am Rufus Crawford, Dylan's dad, and I want to teach that punk a lesson.”
“Mister Crawford,” Mike said, “I do not believe you are going to teach anyone a lesson right now, especially that boy you keep referring to as a punk. I heard that your boy stole a dog and some equipment and was beating his dogs on the trail. Dylan attacked the boy by my sled and that boy only protected himself. I also understand that your boy is a lot bigger and older than the boy by my sled.”
“Lies, lies,” Mister Crawford said as he pushed Mike down. I jumped up to protect Mike and felt the knife slash me. I went down.
“Rivers!” Mike yelled as I heard Nitro and Lakota charge Mister Crawford. Christmas told me as I was laying in the snow that Nitro grabbed the hand with the knife in it so, Mister Crawford could not slash out with it, and Lakota knocked Mister Crawford down into the snow. Christmas told me that Lakota then put one of his big paws by Mister Crawford's throat and growled at the human. I could picture this in my mind. The human looking up into the face of a very big, growling and sneering dog who was very upset. I guess that is why the human stopped moving. Of course, having another very big, powerful and upset dog clamped down on your wrist does not leave you too much choice, does it?
I felt Mike's hand on the wound, pressing a cloth over it. I did not think it was too bad. I did not feel any pain. “Randy, please bring me the first aid kit,” Mike said.
“I already have it, Mister Mike,” Randy answered
Alaska Dogs and Iditarod Mushers Page 66