By Kathy Miyoshi
Whether you are just getting started in this sport, or you’ve been doing it awhile, it’s important to realize that every now and then things WILL go wrong. This is a story regarding a recent training run I did in Truckee, California. I hope you enjoy reading it, and perhaps, learn something to!
I have been doing well training eight dogs, pleased with everything and most everybody, but I actually have nine dogs to train, and it was getting to be a bummer to leave one of the main dogs at home with the old folks, so I decided since I was going to do a longer run today - ten miles - that I would hook up all nine. (One should note that I had never run nine dogs by myself and was a little apprehensive!)
I get to my training site around 7:30a.m., get my 260lb Risdon rig (take note of the weight!) all set up. I harness the dogs, hook them up, and take off all in hunky-dory fashion, and am feeling pretty confident. I'm looking down at the wonderful, energetic, string of dogs and really looking forward to the next hour or so of tranquility.
In a heartbeat, it all went terribly wrong. We are a mile and a half out and still at a full run when - how do you make the screeching of tires sound on a computer? – there was a loud noise and we stopped DEAD. I'm looking around, the dogs are looking around, and we’re all wondering, "What in tarnation?" I look down at the front end of my cart and see the culprit- my front wheel. Yup, I completely busted a bearing and the result was that one side of the wheel was detached from the front forks, and basically the wheel was completely sideways. We were not going ANYWHERE. The problem now is: How do we get a mile and half BACK to the truck?
I gave a "come haw" command and turn the team around in the middle on the road. We go a little forward with the front tire just dragging on the ground, but I have ZERO steering. We continue like this for quite awhile and can only move a short distance at any stretch before the dogs simply can’t pull the weight of the cart. I am having a terrible time pushing, dragging and otherwise trying to keep the front wheel straight. (I figure that although we didn’t exactly do the ten mile run I wanted, the dogs and I are getting a workout!)
Then, due to a lack of steering, I get stuck on an embankment on a corner and am sitting there forever trying to get off of it, but every time I got the wheel straightened out, the dogs would pull and the cart would go right back into the bank. I have the bright idea, since they are fairly stuck, to unhook tugs, grab a dog or two and hoof it back to the truck. I unhook two of the more unruly ones, set the break and start walking. I don't get but a few steps when my dogs start screaming and lunging and I quickly realize that even though this rig was good and stuck, the dogs motivation to follow me was stronger. We were looking at a downhill, so if they got the cart lose it could easily result in injuries as the 260lb cart did who-knows-what behind them. So I quit that idea, hooked the two dogs back up and went back to trying to un-wedge that front wheel.
We finally get it, and start moving forward at a very frustrating pace of resting, moving forward, resting, and so on. With that front wheel totally dragging, it was a bear! It's now taken me 45 minutes to go MAYBE half a mile – when it only took me about five minutes to get out there in the first place! I'm getting a little on the bummed side. (Of course no cell service.)
Did I mention it was VERY foggy? Like pea soup fog? Like, can't see much of anything fog? And generally, I LOVE the fog, so I WAS in 7th heaven, but at this juncture I don't like the fog at all. And suddenly what comes out of that fog … but a man … on foot.
Hmmm, I'm out in "deliverance" territory by myself, stranded with 9 dogs. The first thing that went through my mind was this was pretty much a nightmare. But I'm not that small a person, and if I have to, I figure I can defend myself against ONE person. So here he comes, walking out of that fog, and I'm just sitting there wondering what the heck was going to happen next.
“Deliverance Man†speaks to me and says: "Looks like you're having a bit of a problem." "Yep" was all I could think of at the moment. He looks at my front wheel, jiggles it, kicks it, and tries to lift it. I might mention he did that while straddling the front end of the cart with his back to the dogs. (I figured if the dogs took off that would pretty much do him in right then!). He doesn't have any success and he says with a great deal of profundity: "I don't have any advice for ya.". Me: "Yep". He: "I have no idea how to quick fix this-it's really busted." Me: "Yep". Then he says, “I just live around the corner, I'll go get my truck†and he walks off into the fog.
You know what I was thinking, right? "EVERYBODY! HIKE!" And off we go again at our trudging pace. We don’t get too far when here he comes back driving some sort of barely held together truck-but I might mention it was moving faster than I was at the moment. I’m stopped again – of course. He gets out and says: “I’ll tell ya what, I’ll hook that rig to my hitch and you can take the dogs back to the truck.†My eyebrows went up, my mouth opened and I said: “I don’t think that is a good idea.†At which point he said: “Yeah, I bet they would be dragging you on your A_ _ about 30 miles an hour.†Me: “More like 50.â€
We laughed and that pretty much cut the ice. I then intentionally wedged that cart back into the bank I had recently gotten off of, wrapped a lead dog around a tree and attached her with a neckline back to the centerline, and accepted a ride from “Deliverance Man†back to my truck - a FAST ride! He said: “I’m Michael, I’ve been living out here forever.†Me: “Of course you haveâ€.
It turns out “Michael†had seen me training often enough, and was quite a nice guy. The wheel fell completely off when I tried to put the cart on my hitch, so it rode home in the back of the truck. I got home shortly before Noon, having only run a mile and a half.
"The worst day mushing is STILL better than the best day working."
Happy Trails.