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Amy Schenk guides a sled dog team along the Beach Lake trails during her first-ever mushing experience.
PHOTO BY JO WOOD
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I arrived at a scene of pure excitement. Dogs barked, yelped, jumped and leaped as Ed Wood prepared for a training run.
Ed Wood and his wife, Jo, hooked up 12 dogs one by one to the front of a sled. Then he stepped onto the sled's runners, removed large hooks from the snow and shot off across a wide-open field toward a trail on the opposite end.
As he and the sled dogs disappeared, calm set over the Beach Lake parking lot.
Spring-like sun bathed Jo Wood and the dogs that either hadn't been run yet or had already returned from a 10-mile training circuit.
Jo Wood fed the dogs that had just run a savory mix of broth, meat and dry dog food. While those dogs slopped up lunch, we walked to a spot on the trail where her husband and his dogs would pass in a few minutes.
A hushed sound from the sled skimming over the snow was heard seconds before Ed Wood and his team darted around the corner.
The team soared past and then abruptly halted.
One of the dogs had a sore shoulder, and Ed Wood wanted to hand it off to his wife.
He took off again down the trail, and Jo Wood and I walked with the hurt dog back to the truck.
Once there, we set about routine dog mushing chores, picking up dog bowls that had been licked completely clean and taking off harnesses.
I found putting on and taking off harnesses to be surprisingly easy. The older, more experienced dogs would lift their paws without having to be asked twice.
After we loaded dogs into the truck and scooped poop, Jo Wood and I chatted for several minutes while waiting for her husband to return.
Ed Wood's recent runs in the Fur Rendezvous went well, she said. On the last of three race days, he placed sixth, which was his personal best.
The more Jo Wood shared her enthusiasm for dog mushing, the more interested I became; and the more interested I became, the more questions I asked.
What breeds make good sled dogs?
A mix of hound and husky, she said. The hound gives the dogs speed, while the husky gives the dogs paws with good traction.
What makes for ideal mushing conditions?
Snowball snow, Jo Wood said. The best snow is moist enough to make a snowball, but not so water-saturated that it's abrasive on the dogs' feet.
How do you keep track of the dogs?
Jo Wood showed me a felt board she created. Similar to how a coach might use a white board to assign each player to a position on a field, she has felt board with Velcro placeholders for each position in a dog team. Once she and her husband have decided on what dogs to run, she sticks labels with each dog's name onto the placeholders.
The Woods clearly have their system figured out. They put girl dogs on one side of the truck and boy dogs on the other. When a dog team returns from a run, one of them gives the dogs treats while the other begins unhooking them from the tugline. They keep their kennel to less than 40 dogs so they can all be evacuated in one truckload in case of an emergency.
Time passed quickly. I was surprised when I looked up and saw 12 panting dogs pulling Ed Wood's sled back to the truck.
Once again, the chores started.
Each dog was given a treat, unhitched from the tugline, led to the truck, fed, unharnessed and loaded into its box.
Then Jo Wood and I began preparing for our run.
Out came two lead dogs and eight adorable puppies. It was to be the third run ever for the 5-month-olds.
The Woods began hooking the dogs to a tugline and attached two sleds, one for me to ride and one for Jo Wood to use.
A few of the puppies couldn't contain their excitement and either found themselves tangled up in the lines or reprimanded for trying to chew them.
Once every dog and everyone, namely myself, had been situated, Jo Wood removed the snow hooks, and we were bolting across the field toward the trail.
I planted my feet firmly on the sled's runners and set my gaze on the 10 dogs running in front of me. The wind caught my cheeks, and I was glad I had opted for winter gloves rather than fleece liners.
A fork in the trail neared, and Jo Wood shouted “gee,” which told the dogs to turn right.
The two lead dogs hesitated and then started down the wrong trail. Jo Wood hit the brakes, sunk a hook into the snow, walked up to the lead dogs, set them back on track and hopped back on her sled.
I wasn't completely prepared for the quick restart and found myself heading directly toward a snow bank. In some unconscious maneuver, which I'm sure stemmed from a lifetime of skiing, I managed to maintain my balance and stay on the sled over the snow bank as we continued down the trail.
As my confidence grew, so did my comfort level. Rather than simply clinging to the sled, I began to shift my weight from side to side, making it easier to round corners.
Operating a kennel and training dogs involves a huge commitment and innumerable hours of work. But while I was out there on the trail with the dogs, I understood why people do it. It was so amazing to watch the trees flow past, hear the snow sliding beneath my feet and feel the energy exuding from the dogs.
Two miles later, we pulled back up to the parking lot at Beach Lake trailhead.
One more time, we went through the unhooking, feeding and loading routine.
Before I left, Jo Wood invited me to come out again sometimeÉ and I think I just might.
Reach the reporter at news@alaskastar.com.
