Pico stood perfectly still while I slid him into his harness. I was heartened by this facade of calm. The second he was clipped into his tug, (Lesson #1: Don't Let Go. Apparently this applies to bikejoring and sledding both.) Pico lunged down the driveway dragging Norrin and the bike with him. No lack of drive there. I barely caught the bike as it went flying past, handlebars and pedals making trenches in the dirt. Norrin wasn't about to be dragged again, within seconds he had spun around and was matching Pico stride for stride at a full run. I learned my first true lesson in bikejoring as I grabbed for the seat as the bike flew past and flipped the bike onto it's wheels, running at the same time to catch up and grab the handlebars. Lesson #2: Grab the brakes hard and hold them there before you lift the bike onto its wheels. I managed not to lose the bike, by some miracle or accident, and paused the forward momentum long enough to get myself into the saddle. We were down the driveway and halfway down the hill before I'd taken half a breath.
Much to my relief, the two driveways that usually house loose dogs were empty. We made it to the corner, but neither dog payed any attention to my commands to haw. After stalling out at the corner for a minute or so (I kept hoping Norrin would remember our previous two runs and turn left, to no avail) I got off the bike and hauled the dogs around until they were pointed in the right direction. With a quarter mile of energy burned off, they waited patiently at the end of their lines (instead of turning to follow me back! progress!) but the second I reached for the bike they lunged down the road. I dove for the brakes this time, yelling whoa, and managed to get back in the saddle before we were tearing down the straightaway at a full run.
Once I could breathe again, I pulled out my flip camera to try and catch some evidence of my boys pulling like old pros. As soon as I had the thing out and on, however, I realized that bikejoring one handed was only going to end in disaster. It went back in my pocket after just a few seconds, and in my few seconds of one-handed riding I became acutely aware of our speed and my tenuous balance on the rocky dirt road. I was frantically scanning the woods on either side, trying to see anything that might catch Pico's attention before we had a chance to crash. We made it to the end of the straightaway in one piece. My fingers were freezing, and Norrin wasn't even panting yet. I decided to try the two-mile loop instead of turning them around on the straightaway.
This time, the boys turned left with no prompting and headed up the hill. Pico stopped once to mark a bush but they both hauled forward as soon as he was done and I only had to help on the uphill a little bit. They tried to take the next left down a wide driveway, and it took some hollering and rearranging and untangling before we were past this gap and on our way again. At the top, they took another left and we were more than halfway home.
There was a minor disaster when some dogs started barking off to the right. Pico slammed into Norrin and started to climb over him to get to the driveway in question. I yelled and slammed on the brakes and managed to avoid hitting them, although the ensuing tangle took awhile to sort out. I ended up dragging a frantic Pico, a spooked Norrin and the bike past the driveway. I had to wait Pico's distraction out. When he calmed down, I lined the boys out again, ran back to the bike and we were off. The rest of the short trip home was uneventful and in consequence utterly blissful. The boys pulled perfectly, never stopped and took the last two left turns like they did it every day. Pico even ran past two penned up horses with no more than a sideways glance and a second of slack on his tug.
Run number two at the crack of dawn on Sunday morning was slightly more smooth and less gut-wrenching. We still stalled out at that first left turn again, but I corrected it more quickly this time. The boys followed the loop well, making the second left and only hesitating at the first driveway that had caused the tangle on Saturday. At the top of the hill, with the previous dog-tangle in mind, I decided to try something different.
There are two different schools of thought regarding talking to your dogs while they are running. One group holds that you should stay totally silent and let the dogs focus on their job. You should only give commands, and very rarely praise, while on the runners. The other school holds that chattering away to the dogs is fine, encouraging even, letting them know that you are behind them, they are doing well. They believe that when you give a command, the dogs can recognize the change in your tone, and if your previous training has worked they will listen.
In general, I chatter to my dogs while we're running. It has worked for me so far. I had been chattering away to Norrin & Pico the day before we hit the barking dogs. We were near the top of a long hill and I was trying to encourage them to keep up their momentum. As we rounded the corner this time, I started to wonder if my chatter had alerted the neighbor dogs and started their barking, leading to Pico's lunge and subsequent tangle. Today, I stayed silent. And it worked. The boys pulled hard to the top of the hill and the houses on both sides stayed silent. We flew past the site of the tangle and were on the homestretch.
The most interesting moment of this run came just two driveways from home. Even though we were running quiet, there was an explosion of dog barking from the right again. This time, as Pico turned to lunge Norrin braced himself and actually managed to body-block Pico without breaking stride. I could hardly believe what I was seeing in front of me, but Norrin actually leaned into Pico's lunge, bouncing him away, and kept running at full speed. Pico slacked his line for a second, looking over Norrin's back towards the barking, but the second his neckline went taunt he faced forward and kept running. It reminded me of Leo's reaction to Pico's inappropriate behavior last winter. I was encouraged that Norrin had taken the initiative and done the right thing by not letting Pico bully him into stopping.
I believe that getting over my fear of bikejoring will prove critical to how the season ahead shapes up. The value lies both in allowing the dogs to stretch their legs and get back into working in harness long before we'll be able to hit the trails, and allows me to have close contact with them, watching their behavior and the little nuances of communication that I miss when they are ahead of a whole team. Mostly, it's allowing me to bond with the dogs in a way that is totally different than running them with the sled. I am working on learning how to train them in this mode, reading forums and books and talking to as many experienced mushers as I can sit down with. I hope it does serve us well, even if we still have some crashes up ahead.
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