Born to run

WEEK 35

I’m starting this week’s post with a word association. I will say “dogsledding” and you will think of the first words that come to mind. Pause here.

Iditarod. Alaska. Mushing. Huskies. Tundra. Freezing. Fun. Am I right? These are the answers I got when I told people I tried dog sledding for the first time.

I’m not in Alaska, but I may as well be, with temperatures in the low 20s, partly cloudy skies, standing on what looks like frozen tundra at 10,500 feet above sea level, jagged mountain peaks all around, no civilization in sight. This is the home of Alpine Adventures Dogsledding off Route 24 near Leadville, Colorado:

My good friend Debbie, who lives about an hour away, had tried dogsledding a couple years ago, and it sounded like the perfect way to spend a Saturday afternoon, escaping the crowds at Vail. The experience delivered: a three-way tie between the adorable dogs, the scenery and the actual mushing.

Given the extreme cold and variable weather, participants are encouraged to dress in ski pants and jackets, waterproof boots (we inserted toe warmers), base layers, gloves, neck warmers, hats and googles. We wore it all and didn’t feel over-dressed.

We checked in at a little hut on the property and found our guide, Blu, who clearly loves his job. He said he came to the area 10 years ago on a three-day ski trip and never left.

We followed Blu to the staging area and met our eight-dog team. These are Alaskan Huskies, he told us, and have the strongest hearts of any mammal. We learned that sled dogs can pull more weight pound-for-pound than any other draft animal – and at quite a pace. When they’re mushing, the dogs run about six to fifteen miles per hour. Blu also showed us their fur – a special dual-layer coat designed for cold weather. In fact, they only run the dogs when temps are below 40 degrees.

At the front of our team, Blu paired Guru (2 years old) with Zipp (10 years old). The lead dogs are the smartest and have been trained to guide the sled. They set the pace and pick the path. Granted we’re mushing on a defined snow-packed route, but it’s up to the lead dogs to decide where exactly along the path they want to run.

We then met Bobby and Dolly and the remaining four dogs – whose names I cannot remember – but one was blind, another had one blue and one brown eye, and the last two brought muscle to the team. Within an instant you could sense each dog’s individual personality, and I imagine over time, Blu and all the staff come to know each dog’s bark and their quirks and desires.

The dog team pulls the sled (duh) which includes a basket for one person to ride while the second person stands and mushes the team. Mushing involves three activities: standing strong with both feet on the brake to hold the dogs back until it’s time to go; slowing the team by placing one foot on a placemat-size piece of rubber between the sled rails; and riding with both feet on the rails as the dogs are at speed. It takes about one second to get the hang of it, although I’m sure real mushing is much more complicated.

Blu drives a snowmobile out in front fitted with a rear-facing seat so the remaining customers can face the dogs and watch the action. He gives the musher arm commands to release or set the brake, or slow the dogs down. The dogs want only to run and get crazy amped when they know it’s almost time to go, barking and trying to pull against the brakes. When we stop to change out drivers, the dogs roll in the snow and play.

Debbie took the lead driving first, and I hopped into the sled, with an exhilarating dog-level vantage point as we hit top speed.

After a couple of miles, we switched positions, and I mushed, an equally exhilarating experience standing at full height, the dogsled team pulling out in front, framed by the mountains.

About those mountains. Immediately to the west of us sit Mount Elbert and Mount Massive, Colorado’s two tallest mountains at 14,439 and 14,429 respectively. Just as we started our tour, the clouds broke to brilliant sunshine. You could not have asked for a more perfect setting.

After our tour, Blu invited us to spend time with the dogs – they have about 150 on the property ranging in age from puppies to 15 years. He introduced us to the racing dogs who would be leaving the next week to compete. We also met two litters born last April. We let the dogs approach us and initiate contact – nearly all of them wanted to nuzzle and be petted.

The property includes a six-mile trail, and Blu explained that the dogs typically run four loops a day, burn 10,000 calories and eat raw beef and kibble. I will spare you the photograph of the buckets of frozen raw meat.

Do the dogs like to run? I’d answer a resounding yes. It’s in their DNA, and as Blu said, the dogs “tell them” when they want a change. I most enjoyed the time with the dogs, learning about this special breed. And as Debbie and I sat on the back of the snowmobile with the dogs running towards us, I couldn’t help but notice what I took for wide smiles on their faces. You can see how easy it is to fall in love…