Lincoln To Cain Ridge

I picked up my handler/husband Mike, and we continued running next to the highway through downtown Lincoln. This year there were not many spectators downtown. There was also not much snow, but my experienced leaders knew right where to go and stayed on the small strip that had not melted yet. We got through town and continued along the highway toward the Hi-Country Beef Jerky plant.

As we were nearing Hi-Country, we passed another team, and the musher hollered something about the trail, but I could not quite distinguish what he was saying. Just after passing him, my leader Fresca made a sharp turn and tried to head across a field as though there was something out there that she wanted to get to. I commanded her back into the ditch, but I was astounded because this was very unlike her, and most dogs do not like to go off a trail into the deep snow anyway. It turned out that the other musher was trying to tell us that we were off the trail, and Fresca had figured out that the proper trail had diverged and was now across the field from us. She had been trying to cut across to get to it. What a smart dog! To correct my mistake, we had to negotiate two right angle turns and run up a short section of plowed road. This was not without mishap as I tipped my sled and dumped my handler out and wrapped the team around a tree. Nonetheless, we got everything remedied without injury.

The route went right through the Hi-Country parking lot, past lots of spectators, along a small ridge, and then down through a culvert under the highway. Upon exiting the culvert, I dropped Mike off and continued on alone. I was still feeling shaken from the difficulty at Hi-Country, and the next stretch of trail involved some tricky navigating on and around local roads. However, the trail was well marked, and Ghost and Fresca were superb at following my commands as they crossed roads, turned onto roads, got off roads, or angled onto narrow trails with never a foot wrong. Eventually we left the settled area, and there were no more roads to worry about.

At first the snow was very thin. We were traveling across sections of grass in addition to snow. There were a number of tiny creek crossings, and pine branches had been put down to make temporary bridges. I suspect snow had also been shoveled on top of the branches, but there was little left by the time I got to them. My dogs really looked askance at the pine branches, but because the creek crossings were not visible until the last minute, we would dip down and be out on the branches before the dogs had a chance to balk.

As the trail started to climb a little higher and the snow got a little deeper, I decided it was time to take Ghost out of lead. I put him in wheel where it would be easiest to load him in the sled when the time came, and I put Luna up front with Fresca. Luna was also running slow, but unlike Ghost, her gait was perfectly normal. She is my best command leader, and this section of the race really requires leaders that will follow commands without question.

We had a very enjoyable run through this scenic part of the trail. Luna and Fresca were slow but steady, and they followed the various turns in the trail without needing any guidance from me. There was one road crossing that involved a steep drop down a five foot bank. We negotiated that with no trouble but heard later that a number of teams had turned down the plowed road instead of shooting right across as they were supposed to. In previous years, this had been a big trouble spot, and I was relieved that they had routed the trail more sensibly this year. Every year the sportsmanship award seems to involve some musher helping other mushers at this particular spot, and this year was no exception.

With less than ten miles left to the next checkpoint, the trail dumped us onto a plowed road for a short distance before turning abruptly off the road and climbing some steep hills. Luna and Fresca gleefully took us up the bank off the road - something we had done a lot during training as there are a number of road crossings with more or less steep banks on our training trails. Before climbing the first hill, I decided to pick up Ghost. He was beginning to tire, and I knew the extra weight would not be a problem for my team. In fact, I was having to ride the brake anyway in order to keep the faster team dogs from overrunning my slower leaders.

With Ghost safely tucked into the sled bag, we climbed the hills, went around some sharp corners, and negotiated some open, drifted areas. Ghost seemed a little restless, so I opened the sled bag to let him stick his head out. He took a long look forward up the team and then gave me a look that told me as plain as could be that he had decided to stay in the bag and enjoy the ride. I petted him, and he never took another look at the trail. I was sad, knowing that this would be his last race, but I was glad for the chance to spend a little quiet time with him in these last few miles to the checkpoint.

At Cain Ridge I put Ghost back into the team so that he could have his food and water with everyone else before being dropped. I also took a quick dash inside to use the restroom and get a bite to eat. Actually, I was not very hungry, so I merely looked over the food to see if there was anything I couldn't resist (there wasn't). Then there was a bit of a discussion with the head vet about Ghost - she couldn't find anything wrong with him, but I was sure there was. Finally, I watched my handler lead him away toward the truck while I packed up my sled with all the necessary gear for the next leg of the trail. My planned short stop had stretched out to almost an hour, but it was still light enough to see the trail without a headlamp. I strapped my headlight on, knowing that it would be dark very soon, and off we went.