|
With the
information she provided I contacted
Arleigh Jorgenson
who turned out to be an experienced sled driver,
racer, arctic traveler, dog breeder/trainer and all
around absolutely delightful guy.
http://www.dogmushing.com/index.html
Arrangements
were made for me and loving wife, Ruby, to journey
to Grand Marias, MN for a 3 day getaway. Despite
many travels around and about Lake Superior I had
never visited it in the winter and have always
wished to do so. This was a perfect opportunity and
we could also devote one day to going to the dogs.
Since the depths of winter (frigid January with the
Alberta Clippers howling around the eves and dark,
grum days of February, made even darker this year by
my missing our 20th anniversary by one day) had
passed is seemed that early March, the month of the
solstice, would provide a nice balance of winter but
yet warming weather.
This, dear
reader, as will be seen, was not to be the case.
Thursday, March
6 found us heading toward Grand Marais, truck heater
on full blast, pondering the 10 below temperatures
outside and the 15 below predictions for the morrow,
the day of the dogs.
We had read
Arleigh's list of suggested clothing both for
riders, Ruby was going to ride and for drivers as I
hoped to learn the rudiments of "mushing". Let's
see, from inside out: silk underwear top and bottom
(black) which with a balaclava resulted in the
appearance of a fearsome terrorist; turtle neck;
insulated shirt; insulated vest; fleece red and
black checked "lumberjack" jacket and: Aerostich
Yeeesh Yellow Darien jacket. Insulated jeans, Darien
Pants: 2 layers of heavy wool socks and Aerostich
Combat Lite Touring Boots. As the reader may
discern, it seemed to make sense to wear my
motorcycle gear as it has proven itself over
thousands of miles to be water and wind resistant
and was "armored", not that I could possibly road
rash when driving a dog sled. (Or so he thought!)
http://www.aerostich.com/catalog/US/index.html
Also included
was a "lumberjack" hat, long woolen scarf, silk
under gloves (black, as usual) and insulated elk
skin gauntlets, Aerostich, of course.
Not worn was an
additional fleece sweater and insulated shirt - I
looked enough like the Michelin Man even without
them, besides they wouldn't fit and were not needed.
However,
despite the preparation a major error was made in
the selection of clothing, an error not discovered
until 10 miles or so "on the runners" as we seasoned
mushers call riding the sled.
;-) |
|
The sled, front to back: A needed
bumper
because YOU WILL hit trees;
anchors
because the dogs have only 2 speeds, dead stop and
full ahead and THEY LIKE TO RUN !!! If
you are not driving/moving the musher needs to have
a foot firmly on one of the two brakes or the sled
firmly tied/anchored. Not to do so results in
"consequences" as will be seen. The "anchor" on this
side is obvious, a rope to tie to something,
preferably something quite heavy or firmly planted.
The starboard anchor is interesting in concept and
may, upon occasion, function as intended. ;-(
It
is essentially a length of rope with an iron, double
pronged hook so that if one stops in the middle of a
snow field where there are no heavy or fixed
objects, one simply throws the anchor overboard to
embed itself in the snow.
It may also serve as another function on the trail.
If one falls off the sled and the sled turns over,
it MAY come loose and stop the sled, thus preventing
the dogs who like to run (have I mentioned how much
the dogs like to run) from disappearing into the
distance with the empty sled bouncing along behind.
It didn't work for me the seven times I fell off,
while in the processes of learning how much "riding
the runners" is like "flying the chair", although
with a sled you deal with BOTH sides.
Brakes,
both "hard" and "soft". The
"hard brake" consists of a pivoting
bar which when pressed drives what are essentially 2
ice picks into the trail. Either foot is used, the
choice being where you are currently distributing
your weight (think leaning or hanging off) and
stopping power is, of course "pressure dependent",
i.e. the harder you press the deeper the brake
points dig into the trail. The
"soft brake"
essentially consists of a piece of studded
snowmobile tread trailing the sled between the
runners. When one steps on it, it creates increased
drag and slows the sled "a bit". Again the choice
tis which foot to use, which in turn depends upon
how you are shifting your weight, turning to the
right or left, going up or down hill,
barometric pressure, phase of the moon and other
factors which proved to be beyond me. (Remember, I
fell off 7 times <BIG GRIN>)
The
"handlebar" tis interesting. It is a
plain, ol' ordinary hunk of metal tubing with no
attachments or accouterments. Why then, did, even
after several hours and 30 or so miles, was I
continuing to reach for a handful of brakes with my
right hand? Old habits die hard, I guess and it tis
kinda nice to know that instincts take over when
wanting to suddenly slow. Heavens, that even happens
in the truck when I'm not sure if some turkey is
going to pull out in front of me or not. |
|
Arleigh Explains

First one
learns about the dogs. They are smart, they like to
run, they will be judging me and deciding how much
of their attention I earn/deserve. When beginning
training he first works with them to enjoy what they
do best, that is run. Once they have learned to run
and learned to ENJOY learning, then and only then
does he begin teaching the dog and team skills
necessary to pull a sled. To do otherwise, he feels
destroys their excitement in learning and learning
becomes a chore.
DAMN, why ain't
this man a superintendent of schools somewhere, or
even holding a cabinet position?? Personally
have always maintained and taught that first you
teach kids the enjoyment of learning and then and
only then do you worry about spelling. After all
school is an artificial environment and one wonders
if the purpose of school to to have the child "fit
in" to third grade or to prepare them for the many more years of adult life beyond school?
Speak to the
dogs, give commands quietly - they have good ears,
no need to shout. Two basic commands are "Hut" and"
Whoa". Can use Gee and Haw, but not necessary
as will be following Arleigh and well defined trail.
Then driving.
ALWAYS keep the tug line tight so the dogs have to
pull against it - even going down hill, keep it
tight so dogs have to pull. This is one of the
reasons there are brakes on the sled. With a tight
line the dogs know where the sled is, a loose line
indicates that they may be about to be run over by
the sled carrying a somewhat overweight driver.
Don't know about you but I would certainly be
concerned about my hinder in similar circumstances.
;-(
Ok, so far so
good - use brakes, keep line tight.
Now turns -
shades of my Motorcycle Safety Foundation classes.
Arleigh draws in the snow, discusses the apex,
brake/slow before turn and increase speed in turn
letting dogs pull you around - just like driving
those ungainly, lopsided 3 wheeled contraptions we
know as sidecar rigs. Kinda fun driving interstates
(as much fun as slab driving can be) with handle
bars fixed and negotiating each turn by
velocity changes only. When the sled is at the apex
the dogs are beyond, so a tap of the brake causes
the dogs to pull the sled around the pivot point
created at the brake and one makes the turn quite
smoothly - in theory ;-).
As I constantly
maintain: " I can read a book on how to build a
house, but you wouldn't want to live in one I
built." There is simply no way book larnin' can
substitute for experience.
Now,
simultaneously with deciding which foot to use on
which brake, one also needs to decide upon which
runner one tis going to put most weight on whilst
also "swiveling" one's hips so as to
further counterbalance by shifting one's not inconsiderable
weight. Of course if one lifts the right foot for
braking it becomes impossible to shift weight to the
right foot for steering. As hath oft been said:
"PLAn
ahead"
De je vue,
flash back to the first (only?) Minnesota Sidecar/Trike
Safety Class where Uptown-e Al, as an instructor in
training screamed, spewing fire, smoke and
brimstone, HANG OFF, GUST, HANG YOUR FAT A-- OFF!!!"
So sled driving is
similar to side car "Hanging off". Interesting.
Finally, after the
instruction Arleigh reassured me that all would come
easily/naturally to me and not to be too
overwhelmed. Here in the "dog lot" he was talking to
my left hemisphere, but once on the trail I would
engage in right hemisphere learning and learn
comfortably and naturally by doing and "just letting
things happen" and not thinking too much.
Ye Gods and
Little Fishes!!
Here we are standing
amidst 100 or so sled dogs, in the middle of the
wilderness at -29f discussing neuropsychological
brain-behavior relationships, hypnosis, right
hemisphere learning and other stuff I had taught and
used for 44+ years. Amazin' the world tis truly a
small place and further evidence that Arleigh should
be tapped for boss of the American Educational
system, which I firmly believe needs serious fixing.
Or if not that at least hired by some University to
teach teachers how to teach as I have long observed
that although one may have a lotta papers, degrees,
certificates on the wall they not guarantee an ounce
of common sense in the head. Parenthetically, used
to have a framed poster on the wall, to wit:
"
Going to college does not make you any more educated
than going to a barn makes you a horse"
Perhaps that's
why I never got along well with Deans and Department
Chairs.
;-)
ON THE
TRAIL
  

Not too many trail
pictures as I was generally occupied with not
falling off the sled.
Sled untied while
I stood on the hard brake and Arleigh began moving.
After he seemed ahead a reasonable distance I
stood down from the brake, uttered "Hut" and the
trip began. Out of the staging area, across the road
and down the bank into the woods EXCEPT I didn't use
enough brake, tug line loosened closed quickly on
the dogs (scared them) and ran into Arleigh. We had
traversed a whole 75 feet of what was to be a 30
mile journey. All sorted out and began again. Had
been warned that the first quarter mile was quite
twisty but managed to hang on, shift weight, swivel
hips and use brakes for the next 500 or so
feet when I "flew the chair" or the dog sled
equivalent thereof. Rather than lifting a side car
wheel and riding on the original two wheels of the
motorcycle, I strayed off the outside of the trail
(the high side), in a turn, the sled runner lifted
and I fell off, again much to the dogs displeasure.
Back on the sled but the hindmost dog, the one I
would run over first if I lost control of the sled,
refused to move. Smart dog!
I had begun
with a 5 dog team, Arleigh with 10, so he replaced
my unmoving dog with one of his. I learned that the
extra dogs are kinda like spare tires and are
frequently replaced/changed around as travel
progresses. Soon the trail straightened, we crossed
a beaver pond with no sharp turns to take or trees
to hit. Oh, did I mention trees? There are trees in
the woods, frequently lining the trail. When the
trail turns and the musher does not apply the brake
at the apex (you do remember the apex, don't you)
and shift weight, the sled lagging behind the dogs
as it does tends to go straight, usually glancing
off a tree, which bounces it back onto the trail.
Here on the pond we stopped, not because I had
fallen but rather either Arleigh thought I was
developing some skills or because he felt sorrow for
the dogs pulling me. I , of course prefer to think
the former, but Arleigh does love and take good care
of his dogs. At any rate I was upgraded from a 5 dog
to a 6 dog team for the remainder of the trip.
From that point on
things were mostly uneventful. Arleigh
pointed out fresh wolf tracks, the pack traveling
ahead of us and an otter slide as the trail
alternated between woods and lakes. I had fallen off
(high sided) a couple of more times and had
discovered that off the trail the snow was hip deep
in places. Wolves apparently like to chase deer onto
the trail as although the deer can run faster than
in the deep snow, the wolves can run even faster. I
was glad the wolves were ahead of us, so far.
The day was
delightful, cold but delightful. Bright sun, blue
sky. I realized how cold whenever I attempted to
smile which was often. My beard snapped, crackled
and popped as ice chunks, some later to be
discovered as pinkie finger size, broke. At trails
end, it took a full 12 minutes for all the ice to
leave the beard, despite the hot cider. On
lake/smooth, straight stretches, quite peaceful,
standing ion the runners, listening to the song of
the runners. In fact on one such stretch I was
feeling quite proud of myself and my newly acquired
mushing skills. Have you ever heard the expression,
"Pride goeth before a fall?" Can you guess what
happened next?
Back on the
runners and the terrain began to change as we began
to climb. From smooth and straight it became more
twisty and bumpy as the trail crossed hillocks,
fallen logs, gullies and the like, all buried under
several feet of snow, but still bumpy. In places I
was reminded of the way a flat bottom boat porpoises
at planing speed over waves. The front of the sled
bouncing up and down, bumpty, bump, bump. Now, of
course, you dear reader, have a better memory than I
- you remember that the PRIME DIRECTIVE is to keep
the tug line tight. Thus for each "bump" one has to
brake approaching and going down the bump and
release brake at the bottom as the dogs pull you
back up, all the while, of course, shifting weight,
swiveling hips and looking ahead for the next
obstacle.
Encountering one
gully, a bit larger than the rest I was mildly
surprised to note what appeared to be dark marshy
ground and quite briefly wondered about a mid winter
spring. But the trail, climbing from the gully,
turned and my attention turned to staying on the
runners. Arleigh, however had stopped ahead and was
picking up some stuff from the trail. Apparently we
had just run over a fresh wolf kill and he was
clearing deer parts from the trail above.
Embarrassing as being from Kentucky I should have
recognized the "dark and bloody ground".
So we had caught
up with the wolverhowlers and, in fact were
standing amidst their dinner. Well Arleigh seemed in
no hurry and I've dealt with campground bears and
skunks (a herd, passel, pack, pod or whatever of
real, not sidecar) skunks before - remind me to tell
you about it sometime so I wasn't concerned. Well,
Arleigh cleared the trail and moved to renew the
trip. In the process he stepped off the trail and
immediately sunk to his hips in the trailside snow,
grabbing a sled runner as he sank and grunting
something that must have sounded something like
"Hut" to the dogs. Thus they took off with Arleigh
holding on to one runner as he was pulled out of the
deep snow, grasping with the other hand for the
other runner, and being dragged on his tummy, down
the trail behind the sled.
So, consider this,
your writer tis in the back country, standing on his
hard brake, in the middle of parts of a
freshly wolf pack killed deer, watching his leader
being drug toward the crest on the next hill where
he will disappear. Do I feel a warm breath on the
back of my neck? Is that the howling of wolves I
hear - or - simply Arleigh hollering "Whoa" to his
team.
Later and more
tired.
Apparently during our trip I must have been doing
some things right. In addition to being promoted to
a 6 dog team. Arleigh, at some point decided I was
capable of taking the longer loop, for which I be
highly appreciative. Arleigh said later he could
tell I was tired, I did well on the tough parts of
the trail but during the easier parts, concentration
waned and errors were made. Errors such as failing
to coordinate brake and anchor usage. Thus after
throwing the anchor overboard at one stop, when
ready to resume I bent over to pick up the anchor
without firmly standing on the brake. The dogs took
the release of tension by raising the anchor as a
signal to follow Arleigh's team, already in motion.
Without the brake engaged they simply pulled the
sled out from under me. SPLAT again!!!! But after about 4 hours and
30 miles of absolute exuberance we arrived home. |