She put the camera away just in time to follow an abrupt right turn. Her heart skittered in anticipation, but rather than the roller coaster of the Burn, the trail began a gradual curve to the left. Still mellow, still calm, she began to fidget. How far away was the Farewell Burn from Rohn? She dug out her notebook and flipped through the papers, keeping one eye on the trail, one elbow hooked over her sled to keep from losing her balance. Eventually she pieced together that they had a little while to go before all hell would break loose.
They broke from the trail onto another river. Here, too, the ice hid beneath a layer of water, making things slick for the dogs. The trail did not linger long here, taking a left and climbing up a steep bank. Before Lainey became complacent, they were back onto another creek. This section of trail was horrible, with irregular driftwood piles, slippery surfaces, and bared gravel. Surely when this creek was thawed, it boasted white water from the amount of rock sticking up to mar the ice. Her sled bucked and writhed under her as she fought just to stay on. Getting off the creek did little to ease the journey.
She saw Scotch crest the hill ahead and dip over the other side. That was Lainey's only warning before she arrived at the apex of a small hill. Beneath her, she saw a ravine, the path to it a short one. At least it was not as bad as switchbacks at Happy Valley. Her trip down was fast and smooth compared to the trail leading up. At the bottom, she called the command to the dogs for a sharp right turn. Lainey gaped at the upcoming hill. The climb was a nearly vertical one and she watched Owens urging his dogs up, pushing his sled behind. She swallowed, hoping the trail was good enough for the dogs to get some purchase. There was no way she was strong enough to push a five hundred pound sled up that incline. Then she had no time to worry about being crushed by a backsliding sled. Scotch was already halfway up the hill and Lainey at the bottom.
"Let's go! Let's go!" she called to her team, getting off the runners to help muscle the sled to the top.
The dogs put their backs into it, and though they slowed considerably, they slogged to the top of the hill with effort.
There was a short jog left through some trees and she came out onto an upper section of the ravine she had just climbed. Tracks on the trail here indicated that others had not been so lucky. Rather than remain on the marked trail, their dogs had continued the left turn, rushing them to the bottom of the ravine to climb that vertical hill all over again. Lainey was glad for the experienced leaders, both on her team and the mushers in front of her. Her dogs followed the scent of the dogs before them rather than that of those who had erred in the recent past.
Another ascent leveled out at a rock out cropping that she easily avoided. Rocks studded the trail ahead, bare of snow and easy to see. She gritted her teeth as she went, hoping not to hit anything that would damage her sled irreplaceably. This sled had to last her to McGrath, where she had another waiting for her. Until she arrived, this one had to remain in one piece.
The convoy sailed out of the ravine, bumping across frozen and bare tundra. As they reached another tree line, Owens came to a stop, the rest following his lead. He called up the line of mushers, each taking the message and passing it on like the Telephone game played in elementary school.
"We're taking a break here," Scotch yelled to Lainey.
Lainey gave a thumbs up and called to Georgio Spencer behind her. She blew out a breath, unkinking her shoulders as she reached for the bag of frozen white fish. So far, so good. They were about halfway through the worst of it. She went down the line, giving her team a much needed snack and extra attention.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
THE CONVOY LEFT the break area behind, leaving bare tundra for thin forest and a gentle rise in altitude. Through the trees, Lainey spotted marshes and frozen ponds with large shaggy bushes dotting the area. She thought nothing of it as they went, until one of the bushes moved. Gasping, she narrowed her eyes and stared through passing branches and trunks. Those were buffalo! Her hands itched to grab her camera, but she knew the shot would be worthless with the woods getting in the way. Had she been alone, she might have stopped to get a decent shot.
Grunting, she frowned back at the trail.
They reached the peak of the saddle they climbed and dropped onto the other side with little trouble. For the next several miles, the trail narrowed, more rocks and dirt showing through sparse snow cover. Lainey was glad she had the foresight to not only change her sled runners, but have another set ready to replace these. Well marked in most places, the trail disappeared upon occasion as creek overflows had frozen into icy ponds. Egypt Mountain passed slowly to the right of her and the sky began to darken. The light was in that in-between stage where nothing stood out, so she donned and turned on her head lamp.
The ground leveled out and widened, and Lainey realized they were in a frozen swamp. Posted markers were few and far between, the trail pretty much useless in light of the wide expanse of ice to cover. Another issue was more overflow. She tsked under her breath as her dogs swept through a puddle of standing water. Heldig had no booties again. They would have to stop soon to take care of the animals.
Twilight faded to evening as the convoy made their way from swamp to lake. Lainey saw a red beacon flashing in the distance, and wondered where it was located. It seemed close, but out here, that meant little. She lost the beacon as she moved off the lake and into more forest.
The trail continued on this way for several miles. Lake followed forest, forest followed lake. The night was far from silent, however. Lainey grinned as she heard singing behind her. It sounded like Georgio or Roman was belting out 'Witchy Woman' at top volume. Her dogs' ears kept pricking back in curiosity and she giggled. Would her team think her insane if she joined in on the chorus?
Lainey barely noted the 'Dangerous Trail Conditions' sign before taking a sharp drop onto another lake. Other than that slight hiccup, there seemed no other risk. Had they already passed the Burn? From all she had read on the place, it was supposed to be worse than Dalzell Gorge and Happy Valley put together. Surely they had not gone through it yet. The woods and forests they traveled through showed no indication of fire damage. She was under the impression that even after two decades the area had not grown back much.
Ahead of her, she saw a head lamp coming closer. Odd. Why would someone be going back the way they came? She squinted until she realized it was Scotch standing beside her stopped sled.
"Whoa!" Lainey called abruptly. She eased onto the brake, and her leaders automatically pulled off the trail to one side. Once they were stopped, she put in her snow hook. "Snack time?" she asked.
"Yeah. The Burn is just ahead, and then we'll take a full rest break."
Lainey nodded, smiling in anticipation, and passed the message on. As she snacked her dogs on chunks of frozen moose liver, she was amazed at her lack of dread for the upcoming ordeal. Up until the gorge, Lainey had felt incredible trepidation at the physical challenges of the trail. Now she was almost eager to get to the confrontation, to accept the dangerous test of her abilities and win through regardless. It was somewhat reminiscent of stalking wild carnivores to get that one elusive photograph, not caring about the peril she suffered to achieve the shot.
She did a careful examination of her dogs, finding ice balls forming under a number of toes. Heldig's paws were getting worse, though she acted as if nothing was wrong with them. If she kept this up, Lainey would be forced to drop her in the next checkpoint or two. She was not looking forward to that. Realistically speaking, Lainey's chances of going the entire thousand miles without dropping a single dog were minimal, but it was a goal to aim for. She admonished Heldig yet again, and rubbed liniment into her pads before rebooting her.
Then it was time to go.
They slid into more woods on a slow rise. Lainey gasped in surprise as her team broke out onto a stark and barren landscape. Finally, the Farewell Burn.
The trail was a decent one. It weaved this way and that through clumps of brush, snow covered stumps and a
few spindly tree husks spiking into the sky. Lainey thought of a movie, The Nightmare Before Christmas, and decided the Burn would be an apt place to film a live action version. All that was needed was an eerie old castle in the background and bats flitting about the night sky.
For all the hype, however, the Burn was mild in comparison to the obstacles Lainey had already faced. She felt a sense of disappointment as her team easily avoided a snag, wondering if this was all there was to the trail. As the miles went by, she began to think so. Disgruntled, she spent the time convincing herself that this was a good thing, that twenty plus years had gone a long way to making the trail easily accessible.
She resolved to throw out all the Iditarod books she had accumulated during her research, at least all of them older than the last five years.
The trail moved from one ridge to another. With no trees to block her view, Lainey suspected she could see ten or twenty miles in any direction. A dark shadow against the starry night sky indicated a far away mountain, a single light shining from its top. Looking behind her, she could see the three head lamps of the rest of her party. Miles back, she saw two other lights bobbing along - other mushers on the trail. She wondered who was behind them.
Eventually they dropped into a gulch, sheltered from the ever present wind. Lainey saw structures to her left, her head lamp illuminating what looked like a camp of some sort. There did not appear to be anyone occupying it, but snow machine tracks were fairly fresh. Depending on when it snowed last, someone could have been out here in the last couple of days or so.
Again the convoy came to a stop, those in the back pulling forward to fill the narrow gulch. The number of dogs and people gathered here felt slightly claustrophobic compared to the wide open spaces of the Burn. After Lainey got her dogs braked, she joined the mushers forming a group nearby. Owens was speaking as she approached.
"I'm thinking on heading over to the BLM cabin before calling it a night."
"That's what? Ten more miles?" Roman Spencer asked as he arrived at the palaver.
"Yup," Scotch stifled a yawn and looked at Lainey. "I believe I'll bed down here."
"Sounds like a plan," Lainey agreed.
Roman looked from one woman to the other, then to his father, uncertain which way to jump. Georgio gave Scotch a calculated glance as he fiddled with his icy beard. Lainey could see the gears turning as he gauged whether or not to stay with Scotch, keeping the competition close, or moving ahead with the hopes of beating her to the finish.
Waters, the last one in line trotted up to the group. "What's up? Why are we stopping?"
Georgio said, "Looks like we're splitting up." He slapped his son on the shoulder. "I'm heading to the cabin. These ladies are electing to remain here for a spell."
"Let's snack the dogs and get going then," Waters said.
They men broke away to tend their teams. Scotch grinned at Lainey. "Let's get the dogs closer to the tent camp before bedding them down; give them a bit more shelter."
"Okay."
By the time Lainey had her team situated and the cookers heating, she and Scotch were alone in the tiny gorge.
She worked through her chores on automatic. Her dogs were soon bedded down on their blankets, sated with food and water, and on their way to sleep.
Scotch had had them park so their sleds were together. It would mean struggling with Lainey's team to get them turned back down the trail, but it was ultimately worth the effort. They were within easy speaking distance and chatted to one another as they worked. When Lainey had her meal cooked, she went to Scotch's sled and sat beside her to eat.
"What do you have?"
"Meatloaf and potatoes," Lainey said, showing her bag. "What about you?"
"Moose stew."
"Hey! I didn't get any moose stew!" she complained.
Scotch chuckled at her, and received a forceful nudge that only made her laugh harder. "I have friends in low places," she said.
Lainey eyed her suspiciously. "And what does that mean?"
"It means that the cook at Rainy Pass Lodge passed me a couple of packages before I left."
She cursed, more for show than from any real heat. "Doesn't that violate the no help rule?"
"It wasn't help, it was a gift. Besides, I won't tell if you won't. And I know he won't." Scotch's smile faded into suspicion. "What are you thinking?"
Lainey wiggled her eyebrows. "I'm thinking you said he gave you a couple of packages. My silence has a price."
It took a moment for her words to sink in. When they did, Scotch groaned and rolled her eyes. "You've got to be kidding me! I only have one left."
Her smile was angelic.
Now Scotch cursed, though a smile teased the corners of her mouth. With a great show of frustration and petulance, she located the still frozen meal and handed it over.
Lainey squealed in mock joy and gave her a hug.
They returned to their meal, Lainey feeling warm and tingly inside. A flash of her cartoon self surrounded by little throbbing hearts crossed her mind, and she smirked into her meatloaf. Where the hell was that vision coming from? Would she be hallucinating animated creatures and people for the rest of the trip?
"How much further to Nikolai?" she asked.
"About forty miles. We'll get there in the morning, take another break."
Lainey's good humor drifted away. "You'll be moving on now, right?"
Scotch glanced sideways at her. "Yeah. I've been holding the dogs back from the speed they want to run. If the wind stays down, we'll make good time to the next checkpoint. Most of the trail is straight and easy to see. It's got some bad spots, but we're through the worst."
Forcing herself to business, Lainey said, "Well, don't wait for me, okay? Get out there and kick Spencer's butt." She grinned at Scotch's laugh.
"Only if you kick Spencer Junior's butt."
Lainey held out her hand, hooking it with Scotch's. "Deal."
"I expect we'll have company soon," Scotch said, balling up the remains of her meal. "Did you notice the lights behind us?"
"Yup. They're other mushers, right?"
"Uh huh. About ten miles back. I want to be sacked out before they get here. Give them less reason to stop and talk. Don't want to interrupt my beauty sleep."
Lainey took her cue and stood. "Honey, you could go without sleep for months and not need to worry about your beauty." She froze, eyes wide and a mittened hand covering her mouth, when she realized what she had said. Good God, why did she just blurt that out?
Scotch rose, laughing. "Thank you. And welcome to sleeplessness." She pulled Lainey's hand down, holding it in hers. "Better watch what you think, Lainey Hughes. You might say a whole lot of things you don't mean to in the coming days."
Her skin was hot from pleased embarrassment, and she was glad both that it was dark and Scotch's head lamp was turned off. "Sorry," she mumbled.
"I'm not." Scotch closed the distance between them and held her close for a long time.
When they separated, Lainey was less self-conscious. It was with some effort that she said good night and forced herself to her sled for a nap. As she settled into her sleeping bag, she grumbled under her breath, "Damn, why can't this race be over already?"
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
IT WAS ONE in the morning when they prepared to leave the tent camp for the trail. The air was crisp with cold, and Lainey dug her face mask out of the sled before getting started. Despite the brisk chill penetrating even that protective barrier, her eyes were gummy and she could not stop yawning. The lack of sleep was beginning to get to her. She had to get to McGrath, the checkpoint after this one, to reach her scheduled twenty-four hour layover. Wearily stepping aboard the runners of her sled, she wondered if she would make it that far.
"Remember," she called ahead to Scotch. "Don't hold back for me, okay?"
Scotch waved acknowledgement. "See you in Nikolai."
Lainey returned the wave, and they were off.
The trail was a smooth a
nd easy one, though still spooky with the ever-present fire damage. Lainey heard only her dogs panting, the swish of snow beneath the runners, the jingle of metal bits on the tow line, and her own heartbeat.
Scotch drew further and further away. For a while, Lainey's team tenaciously attempted to keep up, but soon slowed their pace to a more comfortable one. This disparity between the teams was expected. Scotch had the champions of the kennel and Lainey the second string. Any one of her dogs could have mustered for Scotch's team, but not all of them. She felt no resentment at having second best, either. Winning was never an option for her as it was for Scotch. Lainey looked fondly over her dogs. She would not part with any of them, not even Bonaparte who trotted along as if he were the only one on the line.
By the time she saw the sign for the BLM cabin, Scotch was completely gone from view. Lainey passed the turn off without stopping, wondering if the mushers they had traveled with were still there or had already gone on.
Her dogs ran, and her thoughts drifted. Daydreams of reaching Nome to the sound of cheers filled her mind, interspersed with visions of warming Scotch in her bed at the cabin. Or a private session at the hot springs. Lainey could almost taste her and licked her lips. She abruptly came back to reality when bits of fiber from her face mask met her tongue.
"Blech!"
She pulled the mask down to dislodge the lint from her lips. That finished, she bent over the sled bag and retrieved a warm juice pack from her cooler, draining it in minutes. Feeling slightly more awake, she stuffed the empty package into her sled and covered her face again.
The trail began to turn. Here and there, trees that had not met their demise in the Farewell Burn began to appear. Soon they were flickering around her as the trail led through them. Her thoughts began to float once more. As she enjoyed a particularly heated interlude with Scotch in front of the fireplace, the sled jerked, jolting her to the present as she grabbed the handlebars.
Broken Trails Page 24