trail condition

I got home from work this morning to about an inch of snow accumulation. As I was driving home, I saw a competative musher out on the trails with her team tethered to a 4-wheeler. My primary concern with the icy trails is the dog's feet, and if she was taking her racing dogs out on an inch of snow-on-ice, I wasn't going to be far behind.

We left the yard fast. Pico was up front with Leo out of the gate for the first time. Leo snapped at him twice as we tore down the street to the trail head. Pico started to pull away and I thought his honeymoon up front was over, but once they both got into their stride and focused on the trail there were no more problems for the whole run. This is the line-up I'm going to keep, I think.

There was a huge snow-and-ice berm left by the snow-plows blocking the trail head. The dogs leaped over it, but the sled flipped and I was dragged down the steep incline with one leg tangled in the drag mat. It was a moment of terror, but ended at the bottom of the drop with no harm done. I made it through two more hairy corners early on, but on the third I caught a runner in an ice rut and did an ungraceful header into the trees. I managed to hang onto the sled, but I hit hard and I felt it for the rest of the run and am feeling it now twelve hours later. This is not the first time I've taken a nasty spill on the first half-mile of trail, and I am begining to wonder if it is worth the risk for the ease of running right out of our driveway.

After that first mile of trail, things evened out. We ran across the re-frozen marshes & the first two miles of the northern east-valley trail. But soon I was considering turning around. Despite the new snow, the warmth and rain had opened up all the early-season ruts again. Man-handling the sled and watching the dogs struggling through pot-holes and rough ice made me think going out today was a huge mistake. Just as I was about to give up and turn around, however, we hit good pack out of the blue. Despite hard ice under the snow, the dogs picked up the pace and the ruts evened out. We ran on, and my mood lifted.

At a particular fork mid-valley, I have always hung right and run the loop across the creek to the south-valley trail. This time, however, the trail wasn't packed down yet. I decided to take the left fork, although it headed up towards a major road. We passed close behind a few cabins and under power lines before the trail ended at right angles to the pavement. Looking over the berm, it was clear the trail continued north across the road. The dogs were running strong, but we'd been out nearly an hour. I walked ahead and eyeballed across the road where trail continued into terra incognita. I was pretty sure this was the Eldarado Creek Trail that I 'd heard about but never found last year. Figuring I could always turn around (oh, the power of inertia) I pulled the snow hook and we crossed Goldstream Road north for the first time.

After a rough quarter mile, the trail turned into a dream. It was the perfect width - just enough room that even tight corners weren't a trap but narrow enough to keep the dogs together. It rolled along the side-valley with enough uphill to keep me working but enough downhill and flat to let me ride. The trees were snow-clad, the creeks were frozen solid, the little overflow we saw was shallow & in small enough patches for the dogs to jump over without a pile-up. We passed two hikers, a skijorer and a snow-biker and Pico's harness aggression didn't cause any major tangles and seemed to be dissipating by the last pass. The people we passed were friendly and helpful and gave me an idea of where the trail goes and what it connects to further up into the hills. We finally hit a creek with open water, and Leo balked. I looked at my watch and decided this was as good a time as any to turn around.

The trail back was everything in reverse. Dream trail, perfect passes .... then decent trail and a minor tangle with a six-dog team coming in the other direction ... then horrid, rutted, ice trail and rising concern for the dog's feet and exhaustion and frustration. But on balance it was a spectacular run. I have no idea how far we went (twelve miles, maybe fifteen?) but my plan for a nice forty five minute jaunt turned into two and a half hours and despite this the dogs finished strong, inhaled their snack of salmon & chicken-baited water that Peter hat waiting for us and have been fast asleep all afternoon. My despair at the ice storm has mellowed as trail conditions prove navigable (even if the ice-base a little unforgiving of spills.)