Journals from a first-year dog musher

THE DIGS

The rooms here are cozy and homelike. Quilts drape the oversized beds, and artwork that matches the unexplored wilderness hangs on the walls. The rooms are themed and beautifully decorated. Some are pure Alaska rooms, some have Southwestern decor, some are simple and minimal, and so on. Some rooms have one bed, while others have three.

The dining here is amazing home-cooking—I’ve never had home-cooking this good. Meals are all two to four courses. The meals range from good Deep South cooking to traditional American cooking with a pure Alaska twist. The owner of the B&B, who lives on the top floor, cooks and serves all the meals.

There are nine rooms here and a large, very inviting lounge with a fireplace and satellite TV. Windows decorate the walls with landscapes painted across them. There is also an outside Jacuzzi. The first thing you will notice when you walk in the door is the movie collection, which could easily put a movie rental place to shame. They also offer retreats and getaway packages.

There is so much to do around Denali, and the owners will help you with all your planning. You can river-raft, kayak, rent mountain bikes, take guided tours, and much more.

MORE INFO

www.touchofwildernessbb.com
touchow@mtaonline.net

The lodge is located right off the Denali highway and about 30 miles from Denali Park itself. The rooms are quaint but have everything a weary traveller or large family could need: a kitchen stocked with dishes, a microwave, a water heater, dorm-size fridge, and even some popcorn and instant coffee ready to consume.

There are 10 rooms that can house one to three people, or a few rooms will hold two to five people with two queen beds and a single. Every room has a private bath, phone, and TV, as well.

If it's nice outside, there is a BBQ grill under a covered pourch that's free for all. The lodge also keeps stock of steaks, potatoes, vegetables, and even desserts.

The lodge recommends that you stay at least 2 days so that you can take advantage of the famous bus tours into Denali Park. Other nearby options and activities are horseback riding, riverboat tours, hiking, fishing, and whitewater rafting.

When I stayed here, it was because we got caught up in a really bad snowstorm and couldn't drive. You couldn't even see one foot in front of you. So the lodge quickly jacked up their normally low winter prices to over $159 for three people in a room. It is Alaska, and it's what hotels do, so...

MORE INFO

backwoodslodge@hotmail.com

As I sit here waiting for my coffee to cool down, I am pleasantly reminded of a quote from the T.E. Lawrence book Seven Pillars of Wisdom. "All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake up in the day to find it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act out their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible."

I don’t think I have ever really lived out a dream of mine - nothing monumental anyway. But I think being here, in Alaska, I can say that I know what it feels like to live out a dream. If anything, it feels so surreal that it's more like living in a dream than coming out of one. But it is by the short Alaska days of light that I dream, and at night, when my mind begins to sleep, reality sets in, and I am excited.

The first dog-sledding run I ever did was on my second day in Alaska. The excitement I had right before we unhooked was like nothing I've ever felt. It was strange, though. Most seasoned dogsledders say that they still have this huge anticipation right before they jump on the sled for the first time each day. I’ve even heard some relating it to a space shuttle launch. As excited as I was, it was different for me. It was calm, natural almost. It was like it was something I was meant to do or maybe something I had done in a past life. I was meant to do this. I didn’t have the slightest bit of fear or hesitation. I was as eager and ready as the dogs were to hit the trail.

I had eight dogs for my first run - a good number to start with. All the dogs on my sled were amazing and probably some of the best in the kennel. The leaders were multi-Iditarod finishers and nothing short of amazing. They knew the trail system remarkably well and probably could have run this 28-mile trail without any commands from me.

Alaskan huskies aren’t a breed of dog that commands respect, but it's impossible not to give it to them. The way they memorize hundreds of miles of trails, dart around trees and shrubs, and work as a team is quite remarkable. It’s like watching a well-oiled engine run right before your eyes. Forty-eight pistons of muscle move rapidly, pumping copious amounts of blood through their veins while they change gears between trots, paces, and gallops, depending on the terrain ahead.

The trailhead was about 45 minutes from Kasilof--quite an astonishing place to start my first dog run on my first trip to Alaska. It was a great day for running the dogs - bright, clear skies, no wind, and a 7° temperature. It was a nice day by Alaskan standards. To the north were two snow-camouflaged volcanoes. Yes, there are volcanoes in Alaska. To the south is where the trail leads us, down through valleys, over plateaus, and past breathtaking views every few minutes.

Today was one of those rare days that couldn't have ended sooner. The 53-mile trail took longer than usual, and the weather was even worse than usual. There was only a light rain that started later in the day but lasted all day. It fluctuated between a thick mist and light drizzle. At first thought, this would be nothing to worry about; however, when this dampness continues for 3-plus hours, it becomes annoying. The mist and rain pile up on your clothes until before you know it, you're soaked all the way through. As if this wasn't unpleasant enough, it begins to snow hard, and darkness is starting its daily house call. It was miserable.

Weather is a funny thing in Alaska, and you just have to learn to deal with it. If you waited for good weather in Alaska before you went out, you wouldn't get out much.

It's hard to say how I felt during that first run. "Sublime" is the first word that comes to mind. There was no tension or awkwardness involved. Only calm and serenity. It was so peaceful that I could have run all day. Fear was something I never felt. Not when ride escalated to a bumpy frenzy, nor when I fell off the sled for the first time.

The more time you spend with people in this sport, you start to realize that sledders are very systematic and meticulous people, almost to the point that they are obsessive-compulsive. They have certain clothes and shoes they wear for certain tasks. They pack their gear into their sleds in the same spot and manner every time. They fill the many pockets of their clothes the same way so often that, at any given time, you could ask a sledder what's in any of those many pockets, and they could probably tell you everything, down to the last dog biscuit.

After having been on a few 50+-mile trails, I understand why now. You're out on the trail for so long that you become tired and dazed. You don't want to have to think about things. You don't want to have to wonder where your gloves are after you've broken up a fight and you're now trying to ride along on a bumpy sled, trying to hold on. Way too much to think about. I'm sure it's even worse during long-distance races, when you have only five hours of sleep at a time. You want every task, as mundane as it may be, to be as mindless as possible.