When the heart says yes, but the body says no

The snow falls effortlessly, slowly gathering on his gray head as he sits on the roof of his house. It's quiet, save for a dog barking in the distance. He appears stately, as almost a statue, until he slowly raises his head skyward, opens his long mouth and howls.

Soon the others emerge from their houses, shaking off sleep and greeting the day. Bright-eyed and eager, they join his lonely song, a cacophony of 16 dogs singing, and they say "let's go." But there is no going for me.  They see me and stop their chorus in unison. They eye me, all looking at me expectantly, waiting. When are we going. There is no going for me, and that is heartbreaking. Heartbreaking beyond what I'm able to convey. Days like today are what mushers - and sled dogs - live for.

I'm not one to let pain stop me. I joke often that my middle name is "tenacious." A very special person once told me that I train and race dogs "against all odds." I pride myself on that.

But sometimes, things happen that force our hand. Like a football player with a sudden injury forced to sit out the season, I now mull over the "should haves" and "if onlys." I should have worn the back brace. Regret is a bitter pill.

A bone density scan showed degenerative disc disease in 2007. I get it honestly. My mother's mother had rheumatoid arthritis, her fingers curved in deformed "S" shapes. Still, she crocheted. My aunt had back surgery when I was young. I remember hearing stories of her in traction. My mother has the tell-tale signs of her mother's genetics as well. And, two years ago, I saw my first rheumatologist.

For the last two years, I've struggled with the glaringly obvious effects of this "disc disease" - what I call the result of a life well-lived. Backpacking, long bouncing rides with my mountain bike, and miles and miles of cross-country running in college undoubtedly jarring tiny fragments into my L5. The last nine years on the back of a dog sled undoubtedly further eroded bone, like water washing away rock. This erosion. Spine turning to dust.

I was in denial. This past spring, I took up trail running again, determined to be stronger for the upcoming dog season. It hurt like hell, but with my back brace - a black nylon support wrapped around my waist - and firmly gritted teeth, I could bite through the pain. I worked up to four mile runs, sweated out sets of crunches to firm my core and stabilize the spine, muscles forming support for bone. I was determined. Tenacious.

Friday, winter finally set in. Excited, I loaded nine dogs in the dog trailer, strapped my sled to the roof, and we headed to Punderson State Park for our first run with the sled. I met my friend Ron there with his dogs. In my haste, I forgot the back brace. I never went without it last season on any sled run.

The trails were gorgeous, and despite the lack of a good base, I hooked six dogs for a 10 mile run, then another.

My six dogs with Ron and his six leading ahead of us

On the second time out, I noticed my sled kept tracking to the right. To compensate, I rode with more weight on my left side. I also noticed during that second run that the area in my back with the herniated disc began to hurt. Our second run was short.

When we returned to the staging area, I hobbled through the pain to unhook, unharness and put the dogs away. I put the rest of my gear away, but mentioned to Ron that I was in a lot of pain. I felt better on the 40 minute drive back home, but as I started to get out of my car once at home, my left leg practically gave out from under me. Breath-taking pain shot through my back and down my leg. I limped inside.

Saturday morning found me in excruciating pain and unable to walk. I ended up at the emergency room where I received injections of morphine and toradol, both powerful pain relievers. I filled scripts for vicodin, two kinds of muscle relaxers and an oral steroid for inflammation, and was on bed rest for the remainder of the weekend.

The best laid plans of mice and men. And mushers.

At the time of this writing, I am still awaiting results from x-rays. But the tech allowed me to take a peek at them after I had them done, and what I saw wasn't pretty. Spinal stenosis - a narrowing of the spine - with a possible fracture on the vertebrae, and undoubtedly, sciatica - a pinched nerve that shoots pain down the leg.

For the safety of my dogs, other mushers' teams and myself, I have withdrawn from my favorite race, the 90-mile Midnight Run. I am able to walk now thanks to medication, and I am still debating on running the IronLine and Copper Dog 40, which are shorter, six-dog class races.

My heart wants to be out there on the trail with them. More than anything. But my body says no. And the argument that has ensued between the two is heartbreaking. 

Where my heart longs to be

November: make it or break it

November is the month in fall dog training where, in my opinion, the most growth occurs. November is when we move from the shorter, fun runs of October into longer mileage. The early days of November can still be mild, but by this time in the season, the runs are long, cold, and sometimes tedious.

I have changed my strategy this season. In the past, I've been most concerned with the number of miles accumulated on the team. This season, I've focused on consistent, quality hook-ups and time on the trail rather than the accumulated total miles.

The biggest challenge this season has been training exclusively from the farm in Ohio. I have to run partially on roads, and though I have trained the dogs to run on the berm, we still have to rely on roadways to cross into trails. This can really take a toll on paws and joints, so on almost every run, I have been double-booting the dogs to protect their feet.

This can take a toll on my purse!

These are dog booties. Image courtesy of Katy and Troy Groeneveld of Ten Squared Racing.  

Booties range from $1.50 - $2.50 per boot. I currently have nine dogs in training, and covering back feet is imperative for seven of the 9 dogs I have. That's 28 boots. For one run. Dollar-wise, that's about  $42 in booties. Most of the time, I re-use booties. But often, the outer most bootie can't be re-used.

Then, there are necklines, snaps and rope.

A handful of fresh, clean necklines 

I happen to have a team of sharks instead of dogs. They think necklines and tuglines - the rope that connects the team to the mainline that pulls the sled - are dental floss. I have to babysit them while I am hooking up to make sure they don't chew threw my necklines while I'm hooking the rest of the team. I've gone through more necklines this season than I care to count.

So I had an idea.

Secret weapon against neckline chewing?

A bottle of hot sauce costs about .59 cents. I doused my lines with the stuff in an attempt to prevent the dogs from chomping through them during hook-ups. I thought it was sure to work.

Turns out, dogs think hot sauce is the cat's meow. They were licking my line - and their lips - more than ever.

So much for that.

I am currently looking for sponsors to help offset the cost of booties, necklines, and all the other costs associated with keeping the team healthy and happy. All sponsors receive a "thank you" calendar of your choice of photos from the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, the beautiful land we train and race in or of the dogs.

If you'd like to make a donation to the kennel, click here








Our first race, The Tahquamenon Country Sled Dog Race, is January 4 along the shores of Lake Superior. December will be busy! Stay tuned!

"...there was nowhere to go but everywhere, keep rolling under the stars...” - Kerouac

I look in the houses as I pass at the televisions glowing in the dim light through picture windows. People warm in their houses watching The Office. I could be home watching television. Instead, I'm out here.

Smoke hangs in the boggy recesses from distant wood stoves. The dogs alert me to things in the woods before I even notice them other wise. My leaders' ears perk up, alert, searching the thicket. Two green dots glow in the woods, something watching me, us. I look over, and the pale beam of my headlamp parts the darkness and finds a lone doe standing, staring at what must seem like a startling spectacle on the trail. A girl and 9 dogs in the night.

I'm tired. After teaching all morning, working for my other job at the medical school, zooming home to be there for Elise when she gets off the bus, and dealing with dinner, it's sometimes difficult to find the motivation to head out into the night and hook up nine screaming huskies hell bent on miles to a line and go.

But once I'm out there, under the stars breathing that cool, crisp air, I'm wide awake.

The dogs chug along, puffs of steam rising from their mouths like tiny train engines. I look up at the stars; it seems like there's a billion visible out here in the night. I think about the upcoming winter.

Mushing is not for those who need instant gratification. It takes perseverance and dedication in training to build up to a place where dogs can go miles and miles once the snow flies. Hours are logged behind dog butts to get to that point, build endurance and good habits and muscle. Keeping perspective is essential. I must remember always what the end goal is. My friend Joann Fortier has a saying for those nights when we don't feel like hooking up the dogs: you just got passed. Consistent hook ups are crucial. Even on nights when we might not want to.

I think of Kerouac and one of my favorite lines: "there was nowhere to go but everywhere, keep rollin' under the stars."

And we keep rollin, rollin, rollin...

Fall in full swing

Fall is in full swing, and unfortunately, blogging about it has been the last thing on my mind!

October is always my favorite month, and it's a time of real conditioning for the dogs. In the beginning of the month, our focus is on muscle-building, and slow, shorter runs are key. We start out the season with 2-4 mile training runs to get the dogs back in the swing of things, but by mid-October, we're running 10 miles.

Every year for the past seven seasons, I drive up to my friends Bob and Jan Shaw's home in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan for their annual fall sled dog training session. They live right next door to the cabin I lived in last season. My oldest daughter, Sophie, has grown up knowing them as sort of surrogate grandparents. It was with Jan that Sophie had her first solo ride on a dog sled when she was seven. Hard to believe that was seven years ago!

Sophie is a teenager now and has taken an interest in other things besides hanging out with her mom and a bunch of dogs. It's been awhile since she joined me up north, but this season was extra special as she decided she wanted to return to the great north woods with her sister and me for a weekend of running dogs!

Sophie hugs a dog at Nature's Kennel

We had a great weekend running dogs and catching up with all of our mushing friends ... after a slight mishap. On the desolate stretch of M-123 between Trout Lake and Moran, where it's almost impossible to even reach a cell signal, the dog trailer got a flat. It was just after dark, and I had no way to change the tire, for, you see, this is not just any dog trailer. This is my dog trailer: which the previous owner had conveniently rigged to make it impossible to change a tire by bolting the wheel to the axle. A normal tire iron will not work; one needs socket wrenches and tools.

Luckily, I was traveling within 30 minutes of friends I've known but had only just met that day: Sandy and Karyn, who were en route to Shaw's training session, too. I had just enough signal to put out an S.O.S. to them, and they came to find the girls, dogs and me stranded there by the side of the tiny state road.

For the sake of brevity, the cliff's notes version of the story is we managed to double-box some of Sandy and Karyn's dogs two-to-a-box - enough to make room for mine...with some improvising. Four of mine had to ride in the car with the girls and me. I picked the four who I knew would get along splendidly and we finally made it to Bob and Jan's!

It was bittersweet being back on these same beautiful trails that were our backyard last season.

Stopped along the trail, Tosh (right) gets a turn at lead with Big Brown (laying down)

The dogs knew exactly where we were. The trails are so good for the dogs because they're all sand. Great for feet, joints and muscle-building.

The team running in the morning sun

I miss living up in the Upper Peninsula, and it was awesome to spend time with the girls in these old stomping grounds. They're such good helpers and always so good with the dogs. 

Elise hugs Dove aka Dover - a dog I'd known years ago who now runs tours at Nature's Kennel

Here are some pictures taken of the team taking off, thanks to mushing fans and supporters, Claudia and Lee Nowak.

My crazy dogs, amped and ready to roll

And we're off!

Saturday night, we all gathered inside to eat some great food and listen to Bruce Magnusson talk about the Copper Dog 150

And catch up with good friends. My friend, Stan, sits next to me. I was focused on listening to Bruce

Now it's November, and the fun short training runs will give way to longer, colder, and often wetter training runs. We have a lot of work ahead of us in the next two months before our first race. Stay tuned and as always...

Welcome Fall!

Normally training season kicks off for the Diamond Dogs this weekend, but unfortunately it's been too hot and humid to hook the dogs up. For the health and optimal performance of the dogs, a "rule of thumb" is not to run sled dogs when the temperatures are over 55 degrees. Today had me fantasizing about last season. The dogs and I can't wait to start running! Happy Labor Day and welcome fall! It won't be long before we are back in our favorite place: on sleds in the snow!

Brake

Brake: A device for slowing or stopping motion, as of a vehicle, especially by contact friction. 2. Something that slows or stops action. v. braked, brak·ing, brakes. v.tr.

It's difficult to believe as I sit in the cabin typing that a winter storm is coming. The days have been mild and spring-like with unseasonably warm temperatures - around mid-50s most days this week.

The dogs and I have resorted to running only at night under the cooling shroud of darkness because of the warmth. This can make for quite an adventure without a means of stopping.

Yes, it's true: I have been training all this fall without much of a brake to speak of on my four wheeler.

Some commands are more concrete to sled dogs. Like, for example, gee. Two nights ago, about five miles into our run in the quiet night, we came to an intersection in the trail. I called "Gee," and Yeti immediately perked up his head and turned sharply right down the connecting trail. No problem.

Other commands are more ... fluid in meaning to sled dogs. Like, for example, whoa.

Behind every sled dog is perhaps hundreds of years of breeding churning them forward. Their momentum is not to stop; their very DNA says go! Stopping is, therefore, counter-intuitive to their core.

Mushers in the area joke about my braking system. I carry a large piece of triangular firewood on my four wheeler and throw it under the front tire when we stop. Occasionally my "brake" flies out of the basket on the front of my four wheeler.

My "brake"

I bought new pads for my four wheeler, but before I left Ohio, found out that the drum was worn down so the new pads didn't even make a difference in stopping. And by that time, I didn't have time to do full repairs on the four wheeler. So I have winged it. Good practice for a sled, right?

During a 15 mile training run the other night, I stopped on a hill to water the dogs. It was still humid and warm - about 42 degrees - and when it's that warm, I carry water and stop along the trail to cool the dogs down with a fresh drink. Like clockwork, I chucked the "brake" under my front wheel which was also turned sharply to the left. I walked up the line of 10 dogs, patting heads and giving praise for a job well done, and threw the bowls down to begin watering, starting with my leaders.

Ruffian is my most intense dog, and young leader-in-training, Dirk, is close behind her.

By the time I set the bowls down in front of my wheel dogs, Ruffian and Dirk decided they were ready to go. They began hammering in their harnesses and barking intensely.

Before I knew what had happened, they pulled the quad over the "brake" and were hauling it up hill. Instinctively, I grabbed the gangline and yelled "whoa!" several times. I even called out Ruffian's name and told her "no!" sharply.

To no avail.

Don't worry. This story has a happy (but painful) ending. I ended up stopping the four wheeler ... with my body. I have a large, black painful welted bruise on my right hip to show for it. But I managed to hop on the seat, aggravated, but no worse for the wear.

my right hip. Ouch!

I saw Bob Shaw today. He stopped at the end of the driveway and asked how my adventures are going. I told him this little story.

He chuckled and said, "always an adventure with you!"

Yup. Always an adventure with these crazy dogs!

Break out the blaze orange

Cathy hit a yearling deer on her way home from work last week. As I walked back to the cabin from feeding my dogs, I stopped to look at the young buck. Mike had already gutted it and hung it in a tree outside his wood shop. Only hours before, it was likely haphazardly grazing with its herd. I touched its soft fur, its eyes already clouded over with death. The button buds of antlers had just begun to sprout.

The deer are on the move. Opening day of rifle hunting is tomorrow, and most mushers steer clear of the woods and take a few days off out of respect for hunters. The dogs and I have run three days in a row this week so we could sit out the next few.

The team is looking great! There are 10 dogs in training: six boys and four girls. The entire pack is fairly young, with four yearlings, two 2-year-olds, two 4-year olds and two 5-year olds. Four members of the team were on the Midnight Run team from last season. Having that many young dogs (and un-neutered boys) in training has given some much-needed umph to the team. I am hopeful that we place at least mid-pack this season.

It's been fun working with the yearlings and watching them blossom. Primarily, the boys from the Reggae Litter (July 2011, Tak x Yeti) are looking phenomenal, with the same smooth, straight gait as their father. Two of them - Tosh and Wailer - have had a chance to lead and are proving to follow in their dad's paw prints. And up-and-coming star, Dirk, has led all three runs this week! So, with three main leaders and three leaders-in-training...I'm feeling pretty good about our ability to navigate. Can't have too many leaders!

Yearling, Dirk (right), next to Big Brown during a training run this past weekend

We were greeted with two inches of lovely white stuff two days ago, which caused the dogs to be extra happy and speedy. 

Snow!

 

Can't wait until we can actually switch to sleds! Hopefully soon!

But for now, the dogs and I are going to enjoy some time off! 

Updates from the north woods: "Weather changes moods" - Kurt Cobain

The dogs and I have been here nine days as of this posting, and have begun to settle into a rhythm. I haven’t seen a sunny day since I left Ohio, though, and this morning I woke with a heavy heart partially because of the constant rain, I think. It’s common for the skies to be cloudy this time of year in the Upper Peninsula, but this rain and lack of sunlight is kinda getting to me. 

The dogs LOVE the overcast cloudy skies, though. 

Tosh, quite comfortable under the cloudy U.P. skies

Everyone looks great, and they're in their element on these trails. Tosh has been showing good focus on our runs, and with lots of leaders in his background, I decided to put him up front for a mile of our 10 mile run yesterday. He was next to his dad for guidance and did great!

Fifteen month old, Tosh (white) lead for a bit yesterday with his dad next to him

Note worthy:

1. I've gotten good at mastering the art of showering with a six gallon hot water tank. I am thankful to have a shower at all, because at first, I didn't. I received a call from Mike Murphy, purveyor of the small cabin I am living in for the season shortly before I left Ohio saying that the hot water tank in the cabin was kaput. Thankfully, my friend Michael Betz, who was on his way down state from St. Paul, picked up a small hot water tank from craigslist and stopped over on his way down to help mushers and friends, Jerry and Ali Papke for the season. It's really not as bad as I thought it would be showering with such a small capacity of water, and makes me realize just how much water we use and waste every day of our lives in "normal" society.

2. I've also gotten good at the art of managing a fire in a small wood stove in a way that I don’t roast myself out. This was far more challenging than learning to shower with a small amount of water. The first few nights, I created (inadvertently) a veritable sauna in the little cabin. With all of the cold rain, warmth was a welcome relief...but I had to eventually open the window to breathe. I've gotten better at it now, though.

3. Those who know me know I have long been a vegetarian. Until I come up to the U.P. I'm not sure what has happened to me, but I have turned into a genuine meat eating machine like the dogs! Something about being outside working in the cold makes me crave meat. Gracie, my little house dog, has gotten really good at sniffing out the beef and begging. 

Gracie says "Where's the beef!?"

Today the dogs had a day off from running. We woke up to a beautiful dusting of snow that made it feel like winter. Tomorrow, we're back on the trail. 

As always,

....from da U.P. :)

"Adventures are funny things. They offer dark, uncertain times, forks in the road, and choices between comfort and peril. And in such times, heroes can be made or undone."

The dogs and I are about to set off on an adventure. 

We set off on adventures every time we go on a run. But this is a different kind of adventure.  

A few weeks ago, when I was in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan with my most excellent friend Emily Wade, we began planning. Scheming. Plotting.  

Whenever two mushers get together, there is inevitable "dog talk" - discussions of all things dog: diet, training routines, race plans, stories from the past. But aside from the normal dog talk, Emily and I began discussing seriously joining forces this season and becoming kennel partners. 

Emily has 13 racing Alaskan huskies, and I have 12. There are advantages to partnering up - especially for small kennels. If one of our dogs is injured, we can borrow a dog from the other. We will travel the same racing circuits together this season, cutting down on costs because we will share expenses. 

But how will we do this if she is in Skandia, Michigan and I am in Diamond, Ohio? 

Ah, dear reader. You are sharp. I can't pull anything over on you. 

The short answer is: the dogs and I are moving to da U.P.

Thanks to Emily, while I was in the U.P., I connected with a guy who owns a cabin in Chatham, about twenty or so minutes from where Emily is staying. He had used it only as a snowmobile haven, and was casually looking for a renter. He works in construction, and was completely renovating this little cabin.  He has access to fork lifts and backhoes and other heavy machinery and has offered to put a connector trail right off of the cabin onto some of the best dog training trails in the U.P. He's even willing to leave a snow machine for me to break trails with in the snow. 

I certainly hope that this fork in the road doesn't lead to peril. I don't have all the answers, but I have faith in the direction. I am excited, but also scared with a fear I haven't felt in a long time.

But I have learned that when the first few steps of something feel daunting and scary, this is even more reason to embark on those first few steps.

As always 

 

Sled Dog Training 101

Pulling seems to be second-nature to some sled dog pups. In my experience with training sled dog puppies, most of the time they know instinctively what to do when they're first put in harness.

Our best breeding to date has produced some great-looking pups, and two of them are already harness broken: Perry, who has four hook ups and is running like he's been doing it for ten years already, and his sister, Rasta, who ran in lead next to her dad on her very first hook up. You can see a video of that first hook up here.

Of the puppies from this litter, Perry, Tosh and Rasta, are very outgoing and affectionate. But one pup has been "different" right from the beginning. Louder and more needy than the other pups, he cried and clamored for his mother's attention with loud barks and seemingly constant whining. So naturally, from our themed-name choice of "the Reggae litter," this pup's name was a no brainer: Wailer.

Wailer at nine months

Even though Wailer has been socialized just like his siblings, he is extremely shy and skittish. It's no wonder: both his parents, Yeti and Tak, were painfully shy when I first got them. Over time and with consistent work, Yeti and Tak have emerged from their shells.

Wailer is still loose in a kennel pen rather than on a tether like the others. Until recently, anytime I would put a collar on him, he would somehow manage to chew it off. Several times I have tried working with him on a leash, and he bucked wildly like an untamed horse. Sometimes he even cries out - such is his panic.

Tonight, after free running all the other dogs, I worked with Wailer individually on sled dog training 101. I hooked him up to a long lead rope, and initially, he bucked like a wild horse. Slowly, he calmed down until he just stood next to me.

Lots of praise.

Then I started walking. He took a step, then leaped into the air as if he was trying to fly instead of walk! Finally, after a couple of attempts, he began walking normally on the lead rope.

Lots of praise.

After just 20 minutes of working with Wailer, he was walking around our "puppy paths" on a lead rope like a champ!

Training sled dogs is achieved by the same basic principles as training a pet dog to sit. With patience and lots of praise, they learn their job.

Our first step was walking on a lead rope, and I suspect Wailer maybe be a bit challenging. But once he gets the hang of pulling in harness (and I don't think it will take long), I think he has a ton of potential just like the other pups!

As always...

Free running: an integral part of training

Dogs are social animals and, like any other social animal, they need time to play and blow off steam.  As the warm hues of a mild April evening close over the kennel, I throw on my boots and head outside for our daily free running session.

"I'm heading out the run the beasts!" I yell to my family as I hit the back deck.

When the dogs see me coming, they erupt into a chorus of excited yips, barks and howls. Next to dinner time, this is their favorite time of day: free run time.

I unhook the boys in front first, Miles, Perry, Tosh and Kerouac. Between the ages of 9 months and 2 years, they are the most pent up of the group and are eager to be free to run, full throttle around our "puppy paths" - the paths carved out along the perimeter of our seven acres where we run the dogs nightly. As the four wheeler roars to life, the boys are already zooming off around the puppy paths, and I have shifted into second gear by the time I catch them.

Perry is turning into quite a great sled dog already

Free running plays such an important role in my training program, and I free run the dogs every day - even in the hot days of summer. It gives the dogs a chance to play, but more than that, it gives them a chance to interact with each other in a more relaxed atmosphere, without the intensity of being hooked up on the gangline. This way they might have an opportunity to figure out where they are within the pack dynamic.

Free running also keeps the dogs in shape during the off season.  Sitting around in a kennel all summer is akin to creating doggy couch potatoes.

Finally, free running strengthens other muscles not used during pulling and running. For example, the dogs often chase each other at top speed, only to turn on a dime and dart off in the other direction. This helps keep them agile and to use all of those muscles and ligaments.

The dogs are enjoying these mild days of spring - cool enough for them to be comfortable yet warm enough for them to begin throwing their straw out of their houses.

Yeti lounges in the sunshine of a cool April day

Perry's dad, Yeti, is perfectly content lounging in the sunshine.

Freya never stops moving, even in the off season

Happy Easter from the Ranch, and as always...

Humbled thoughts from hours in the north woods

Thirty six degrees at noon, the rain has fallen steadily here in the north woods all morning. I am thawing meat to go feed the dogs, and shortly after that, we will head out on a long run in the woods. We will likely be out running for the rest of the daylight hours, as I plan a 25-30 mile run today with them.

My fur kids and me on a 25 mile run

I admit, some days it's difficult to muster the dedication and discipline. Anyone who thinks training sled dogs is fun is mistaken. This is not a vacation; this is akin to a full-time job, and mostly outside in weather others wouldn't dare venture out into. Hours spent with the dogs are not all spent running. We stop frequently for praise, drinks, or to untangle lines. It's training - not only marathon training, but also simple training techniques like others use for their pet dogs when they "sit" on command. The dogs are learning at every turn, especially mine, because they're still so young: my youngest dog, Miles, just had his first birthday two weeks ago.

I learn too, on every run. I learn more and more patience. I learn humility - who am I compared to these amazing athletes? I learn to compartmentalize my fears from the dogs; I don't want them to pick up on the worries I have about that first checkpoint, or whether I am the weakest link in this dog team. Indeed, there is a lot of time to ruminate over lots of thoughts when you're out in the woods for hours with nothing but yourself and 9 of your best friends.

When I'm out there, I think a lot about my family. I think about my kids, and how much I miss them. I hope they grow up with a respect and appreciation for follow through, being focused and going after their goals; I hope they don't resent me for going after mine. I think about the sacrifices it has taken to get to this point - sacrifices from my family and me -  and I am humbled and grateful for all that I have. I marvel always at my amazing canine family, and pray only that we get to the start and the finish line.

Thankful from the north woods, and as always....

"I have never found a companion that was so companionable as solitude."

Many probably think I'm a little odd in my need for solitude. For me, I need regular intervals of isolation, time to, in computer terms, "defragment." I guess that's what makes me a musher, as well as most who enjoy outdoor sports: a passion for solitude.

My spirit opens up every time I come to this place of solitude, locked away in the woods with a bunch of canine best friends. I couldn't be happier. The only thing that would make this perfect would be if my kids were with me, and if I could find a way to financially sustain myself here.

Doesn't anyone value a poetic female hermit with wanderlust?

Ah, I guess I ask too much.

I smile when I think back to five or six years ago when I first started coming up to the U.P. Then, I was baffled by the solitude, an observer, learning about this new area, about this sport, the people. And while I am still an observer learning, it is less about documentation now and more about having a job to do and feeling confident doing it. And the people feel like home to me.

I have a new appreciation every day of the intricacies and nuances of training for this sport. I am continually amazed at how in depth and multi-faceted training sled dogs is, and I learn so much from my dogs - about the sport, but also about life.

Doggy Update 
We arrived back in the great north woods very late Tuesday night (actually, very early Wednesday morning). Last night, we set out on our first 20 mile run of the season.


The dogs before our 20 mile run...


...the dogs, seventeen miles into our 20 mile run

The dogs were so happy to have new trails - hundreds of miles of trails. Today we completed 25 miles, and within about an hour or so of rest, the dogs looked as if they were ready to go again.

I am so proud of my team! Their enthusiasm, determination and drive is really something to behold. I am even more proud because it has taken me years of patience in building up this team from puppihood; five of my nine core dogs were raised and trained by me, so they have grown up with me and I am especially proud of them. Their work ethic is exemplary. When things get tough, even my smallest dog digs in deeper, pulls harder, strives for more. It seems that is something we all could learn from.

No matter where we place in our races this season, I am so proud to call them my teammates and be along on this beautiful journey with them.

It is late now, and the moon hangs in a cloudy black sky lazily. A few flakes of snow fall haphazardly from that black expanse, and I am sipping some 2006 Riesling and ready to nod off, satisfied.

Until next time, as always,

Music Saves (aka "Music for Running Dogs" part II")

Outside the Beachland Ballroom, Cleveland, Ohio. Photo by Shannon Miller. All Rights Reserved.

Most who know me know that music is extremely important to me.

I usually have songs that randomly pop into my mind that are apropos for any given moment, and I've been known to make compilation CDs for special people in my life.

Growing up, I adopted a plethora of musical influences thanks to the wide variety of music I heard from my family. Yes, I was born in 1972 and was greatly influenced by the musical tastes of not only six older siblings, but also parents who frequently spun Janis and Rod "the bod" Stewart on the turn table. Alice Cooper, The Eagles, Led Zeppelin, Kiss, Tom Petty, Berlin, Duran Duran: it was all in my early musical repertoire. To this day, I still know every single word to "Maggie May" and my kids caught me dancing and singing "Disco Duck" in the dining room this evening. 

I remember when MTV first aired, waiting up with my older sister, Colleen. We waited anxiously for the crackling glow of that dude landing on the moon to fill the inky darkness of my parents' living room at 11-something at night. That image will forever reverberate in my head as the beginning of musical history. At least for me. It was 1981, and the radio was still playing Nick Gilder's "Hot Child In the City," and REO Speedwagon's "Roll With the Changes."

But MTV haunted me with eerie progressive new-sounds, like Blondie's "Rapture." Who could forget Rapture? Not only was it haunting, it introduced white kids like me to this thing called rap as the first rap video aired on MTV. Wow. We watched in awe as pale, skinny Debbie Harry danced scantily-clad through a graffiti-covered urban area at night with a ballerina and a black man in a white tux, complete with top hat.

I could go on and on about musical influences of my childhood.

One thing I will forever be grateful for in my childhood is having a family who instilled in me early on an great affinity for all types of music and an appreciation for how therapeutic it can be. They fostered my own natural musical abilities from a young age, and were patient as I picked up and learned to play several noisy instruments, including the piano and my five-piece drum kit which still sits in my basement currently.

My love of music goes on today, and I am rarely without my ipod. On my ipod are several playlists entitled "Songs for Running Dogs." I thought I would share with those of you who love music as much as I do what I've been running dogs and generally rocking out to lately. You can look any of these tracks up on youtube, or by downloading a great software called Spotify free on the Internet. Enjoy!

Willie Nelson: "The Harder They Come"
The Allman Brothers: "Midnight Rider"
Wilco: "Heavy Metal Drummer"
Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros: "Home"
Givers: "Saw You First"
The Be Good Tanyas: "Light Enough To Travel"
The Black Keys: pretty much anything by this Akron-based band rocks my socks 
Brandi Carlile: "Dreams"
The Budos Band: "T.I.B.W.F."
Ben Harper: "Blessed to be a Witness"
Neko Case: pretty much anything by Neko is good with me
Damien Rice: "Dogs"
Tom Waits: "I Don't Wanna Grow Up"
Jane Siberry: "Hockey"
David Bowie/Queen: "Pressure"

I'll probably add another chapter to this. I could go on and on....

For now, as always...

Find your joy

One of the giant puddles we get to run through around Nature's Kennel

It's been extremely wet in the U.P. since the dogs and I arrived on Monday, with winds and rain almost everyday this week. The dogs enjoy the giant puddles the rain leaves behind for drinking, cooling off or splashing through on our runs, though. We have logged 25 miles in three days, and today the dogs get a well-deserved day off.

Find your joy.

God is most present for me in a forest of conifers in the northwoods. The happiest place on earth, for me, is alone among the beautiful cacophony and chaos of dogs hell bent on miles - hundreds of them. Boisterous,  merry, joyful dogs with an appetite for life in all weather - even this steady- falling cold rain.

Here are some photos from our run yesterday.

The Diamond Dogs resting along a trail yesterday. Yeti (left) and Ruffian (right) in lead

Musher's view: 8 doggers running along the Murray Lake loop

Until next time...

Puppies in training: the making of a sled dog

Sled dog training starts early: Tak's puppies are only seven weeks old, but they're already learning the basics of how to be sled dogs. I don't know how other people train dogs, but for me, puppy training starts with teaching pups the basics: that people are good and to come when I call for them.

Perry leads the puppy pack toward me down the puppy paths

Because sled dogs must work together as a team, I believe in allowing the dogs free time to interact as a pack daily. They work out their differences and, in general, they all get along very well. It's quite a sight to see a dozen or so dogs running full-throttle through our pastures, playing and wrestling!

I also believe strongly that dogs need social/play time as well as physical training throughout the year, not just during training season, so I diligently stick to a strict daily "free running" schedule for my dogs, and the puppies (especially the puppies!) are no exception. At least twice a day, I turn the pups out and work with them, handling each one, allowing them to run and play, and teaching them to run with me along our puppy paths.

Perry follows Marley, our Australian Shepherd, along our puppy paths at the Ranch

There are so many connections being formed in each of their little brains at this age, and I want as many of those connections to be as positive as possible. Dogs learn so much from each other, too: how to not bite too hard, where each one sits in the pack, how to interpret body language, and where their place is with the adult dogs.

In my opinion and experience, dogs who don't have nurturing and safe "formative" years in these critical weeks of puppihood end up having issues later in life. In order to give our dogs the best shot at forming healthy relationships with the world around them, I really try hard to offer a loving and stimulating environment for them to romp and play early on.

(from left) Toots, Tosh and Rasta explore the ruts in papa Yeti's circle

They are each so gorgeous and curious in their own ways. Tosh is quiet and gentle, Toots is affectionate and loyal, just like her sisters, Rasta and Ziggy. Perry is calm and affectionate, but Wailer - just like his name - is the loud-mouthed runt of the bunch and a mama's boy!



When they are done playing, they drift off to sleep wherever they land. Oh, to be young!
They're so trusting, so innocent. It's hard to believe they will grow up to be such amazing athletes.

It's also hard to believe Tak's beautiful puppies are already seven weeks old. Sweet dreams from sled dogs in training!