doggie sled ride

You can't get much better than kids and dogs and a little bit of speed, especially with temperatures sitting above zero and a beautiful cloudless winter day. And yesterday proved it. Much to my relief, the dogs were perfectly polite with a crowd of little kids who don't stand much taller than the huskies themselves. Pico's tail was wagging full speed, and the girls ate the attention up, vying for attention from every angle. Even Leo, who is just now starting to accept very occasional petting from me, walked right over to the ankle biters and let them pat him with their puffy little mittened hands all over his head and neck and shoulders. After spending hours outside in the cold with him, trying to gain his trust enough for flinch-free petting, I was flabbergasted at his bold solicitation of human contact.

Our meticulous trail plans were thwarted on the first spin around the trail when we ran into a polite but grumpy borough employee on a snow machine who announced (despite no signage anywhere to back him up) that this little trail was designated ski-only, no dogs or sleds or walking allowed. (He was laying ski-track with his machine, the awful noise of which spooked even usually unflappable Leo into the trees.) I had checked with the University the week before, who had assured me that this section of trail was fair game for our activity but the ski-track laying man seemed to think otherwise. And very strongly.

With no other suitable trail options and an aversion to conflict myself, we changed plans and I ended up running the dogs up and down the little rural road instead of down the wooded trails. The five-year-old set didn't seem to mind at all, especially when I told them that the road was faster. And with its slick of ice and lack of snowpack, I was not lying. There is a reason distance racers are penalized for running along a road when the trail is down in the trees. I still got a good workout running beside the sled on the uphills and was rewarded with the very happy squeals of kids, and a steaming mug of hot cocoa and a bowl of blackberries in the cozy house when we were done.

Two notes from this little side-adventure:

First, although Leo, Sawyer & Pico took all the chaos and strange road run patterns in stride, Dottie did not. I could tell she was stressed by her body language, and it became clear when she first lost her usual enthusiasm to start running again after a stop and then by refusing to pull altogether. She kept running with the team, but her tug line stayed slack for the rest of the afternoon. Although I would have been frustrated by this on a regular run (and have been, as the dogs have off days just like I do,) I understood her reaction. Despite her tour-giving history, the proximity of the (very little) people and the chaos of the staging area, and not having an easy, repetitive trail between crazy driveway time was too much for her. And in reality, she did deal with it. She didn't melt down entirely, she still ran with us and behaved well on the line despite her stress and refusal to pull. Given that she chewed through Pico's tug line and her neck line last week just from the anticipation of starting a run (she gets harnessed last now, so she won't have a chance to gnaw on lines so readily) I was impressed that she kept it as together as she did.

Second, after borrowing some drop-chains on our last away-run, I went to the hardware store and configured a string of drop-chains on a long line that I can deploy from the back of the station wagon. This way I can more easily harness & hook up the dogs, and snack and load them after a run. I used it for the first time at this playgroup event, and it worked perfectly. I'm looking forward to an easier launch next time we hit the White Mountain trails.

Photos Courtesy N. Schuldt.