DOGS, DOGS EVERYWHERE
HERE'S WHERE IT ALL STARTS
A REALLY BIG DOG TRAILER
A BEAUTIFUL MATCHED TEAM
PLENTY FOR KIDS TO DO IF THEY TIRE OF DOGS
OUT OF THE CHUTE!
FOUR DOGS ARE PLENTY IF YOU ARE NINE YEARS OLD
THE LITTLEST MUSHERMonday, 9:30 AM. 23.5 degrees, wind SW, light. It is quite foggy and there is considerable fine lake effect snow falling, but the barometer predicts sunshine.
Yesterday we all went to the starting point of the dog sled races at the old gravel pit on Hwy 13 and Echo Valley road. This is where the fun begins at 10:00 AM on both race days. The hay bale starting chute is where all classes of races get organized and leave for the woodland trails; eight dog, six dog, sportsman, family, youth. Many volunteers are needed to help harness the dogs and get them into the starting lineup. These dogs live to race and are very hard to restrain. If not held firmly they become hopelessly tangled, jumping over each other in their obvious eagerness to run. It is a real workout to control these animals, but also a great deal of fun. Once ready, they are off at the count of three, when everyone lets go and gets out of the way. The power, speed and sheer enthusiasm of the dogs is amazing. These are timed races, and all classes of racers start here and return after their runs, which are as far as forty miles (80 in two days for the eight dog teams). If conditions are good the dogs can average fifteen miles per hour, a thrilling speed on narrow woodland trails. The dogs are barely controlled by voice command, there is no steering mechanism other than that of the driver shifting his weight from foot to foot or standing on the drag brake. Gee, haw, whoa, and mush help the process but pretty much the dogs just run the trail as fast as they can, and will try to pass a slower team (they know it’s a race) if they encounter one. I find the kids, boys and girls as young as eight, the most compelling mushers, as they urge their dogs on while hanging on for dear life. The entire sled dog racing experience is one of joyful, barely controlled chaos, enveloped in a cacophony of barks, yelps and howls.
The final three sentences make for a great prescription for getting the most out of the time allotted to each of us. It is my sense that control is only an illusion; all of the real stuff is chaos, so hang on for dear life, because it is just that--dear, as in precious.
ReplyDeleteI wish folks would not make light of what can be a very disabling mental illness, that is, obsessive compulsive disorder.