dry run

Today I took the team to a new neighborhood and a new set of trails for a dry run. On Wednesday, we are meeting a friend of mine, her two kids and the rest of the mom-and-toddler group she belongs to for what I hope will be a not-too-disastrous sled-dog ride for the five-year-old set. I took the team out today and did a couple of loops on a little mile-and-a-half trail that runs past the home of one of the participants.

A very bundled up five-year-old was out playing in the snow with his grandfather as we came and went from the yard. After I was relatively confidant in the trail (not too steep, no sharp corners, no low branches) I took him for a test ride. He called it a "speed trial" and it was a rousing success. He loved the dogs and the speed of the downhill sections, was tolerant of the slower pace on the flat and uphill (more on the uphill in a moment,) but I could tell that his five-year-old mind had hit the boredom threshold with sitting as we turned down the driveway and he tried to stand up and surf on the sled basket. His test ride was also useful as I figure out the best way to 'secure' (to a degree) kids on a sled that was not designed for passengers.

The dogs did beautifully. I was worried they would be upset by having to stop for long periods between short runs, but I had forgotten that all three of them have spent their off season 'working' at a local summer dog-kennel tour in the past. Short runs and long waits on the line are par for the course for these veterans - something most racing dogs would never stand for.

With all the details sorted out, I am now very much looking forward to Wednesday. But given a taste of the hill I am going to have to run up over and over and over again, I am also dreading it just a little.

Peter dropped us off at the staging area, and my plan was that after our dry runs we would head back towards the Goldstream Valley trails. The house is on the crest of one of the big hills bordering the valley, and I figured there must be a trail, somewhere, that would take us home.

When we were done, I ran the dogs to the end of the road in the appropriate direction ... and met a dead end in somebody's yard. Over their roof, I could see all the familiar landmarks of our usual runs but no way to get there.

Leo figured it out. As I stood wallowing at the dead end, foot on the brake, he could tell that I had no idea where to go and took over. There was a faint set of footprints that led from the road, through the snow and into the trees. Somehow, Leo picked out that they met a trail that I hadn't noticed. Within thirty seconds we were careening down the backside of the hill on a beautiful and barley traveled trail. At the bottom of the hill we hit the nine-mile O'Brian loop trail at about the halfway mark and made it home just as the sun was setting. The dogs were clearly loving the new trails. Now that our mileage is back up, I think it is high time to start exploring again.

One last note: We saw a mama and baby moose munching cattails on the big marsh pond on the way home. Or rather, I saw them. Thankfully, the dogs (read: Pico) didn't notice and we were far enough away not to pose a threat. The huge mama moose watched us closely from the far bank, but never stopped grazing or called her baby - who had strayed quite a ways across the lake - back to her. I was delighted to see these huge beasts, and relieved we were far enough away that we were no cause for concern. I've heard far too many stories (some from just last week) of moose vs. dogteam. There are rarely happy endings, and I am thankful I didn't have a tale to add after today's brief and safely distant encounter.