Mush room
Sled dogs pull some fast ones as they go dashing through the snow Saturday at the first Flathead Sled Dog Days race
Getting up early on a Saturday to run 50-miles in near-freezing weather?
To many, it sounds insane. But to the dogs in the inaugural Flathead Sled Dog Days, it's a thrill.
Twenty-three teams are competing this weekend in the two-day race. It kicked off Saturday morning before the sun had even risen and continues at 8 a.m. today.
From the Del Ray trailhead on Whitefish Lake, the dogs can be heard but not seen. They're in a gravel pit down the hill and around a corner, getting ready for the race. A few spectators, many clutching thermoses or mugs of steaming coffee, gather near the starting line.
Brooke Bohannon, one of the event coordinators, explains the procedure to those who have volunteered to help with the race. When the dogs reach the starting line, the volunteers will hold them steady until it's time for them to go. The sleds will leave two minutes apart.
The 12-dog teams will go first; they have a 50-mile run to complete that day. After those teams have started, the sleds with six dogs will start their run, which is a little less than 25 miles.
A few minutes later, the sounds of barking and a rumbling snowmobile engine draw nearer. The narrow trail between the gravel pit and the starting line is icy and treacherous; the snowmobile acts as an anchor so the dogs don't injure themselves before they begin the race.
Ed Jenkins' team from Hudson Bay, Saskatchewan, Canada, is first to line up. The dogs are straining eagerly against their harnesses, baying and barking and impatient to be off. Six volunteers in bulky coats stand next to each pair of dogs, holding them steady and trying to keep them quiet.
It isn't easy, though, when the dogs want so badly to hit the trail - and it's worse when they discover they won't be the first to run. Steve Riggs of Condon is the first musher to hit the trail.
Jenkins' team goes ballistic when Riggs' Siberian huskies speed by. Their barks and whines redouble as they watch the huskies' tails disappear around the bend. The dogs that still are getting ready in the gravel pit are baying, too - an antsy, griping chorus, 200 strong.
Someone with a stopwatch yells, "Thirty seconds!" Jenkins' team yelps eagerly, their anticipation mounting when they spot their musher heading for the sled. The seconds tick by, too slowly for the dogs.
At last, Jenkins gives them the go-ahead.
"All right. Hi-yup!"
The dogs respond immediately. Seconds later, they, too, disappear around the bend.
The chorus in the distance is even clearer when the team is gone. The shrill, sharp barks and howls reverberate off the trees.
The next few teams are released right away, but Rick Wannamaker's team is held up at the line while their owner disconnects the sled from the snowmobile. The dogs go nuts at the holdup; they've had a tantalizing taste of the run and can't believe they have to stop again. They're harness banging - lunging against their restraints as though hoping to jar the sled loose from whatever is holding it back.
Suddenly it is loose, and the dogs are off again, barking rapturously as they disappear from view.
Most of them are Alaskan huskies - dogs bred for their athletic abilities, not an official, standardized breed. Most are medium-sized and lean, the canine equivalent of a long-distance runner. There are a few Siberian huskies in the race, but even they aren't very large.
When a spectator asks her about the dogs, Bohannan smiles.
"They aren't the huskies of the movies," she says.
The smaller dogs are more athletic, she explains. They're built for speed, which is exactly what a musher wants in a race.
"I always explain it, Clydesdales versus Arabians," she tells the curious girl. "And then people get it."
When all 13 12-dog teams have hit the trail, the six-dog teams begin their preparations in earnest. In the gravel pit, mushers harness their dogs and fit booties to their paws. The booties are for protection, not warmth; the trail's packed snow can get balled up under the dogs' pads and get caught in the webbing of their feet.
Many dogs are fitted with vests as well - not for fashion, but to prevent chafing where the harness rubs against their hides.
But the dogs aren't paying attention to their harnesses, except to lunge against them. Their frantic barking echoes off the walls of the pit; it grows louder each time another team is allowed to hit the trail, leaving the others behind.
Grace Ibsen's team is the last to leave the pit. They're nearly frantic as they watch the penultimate team depart with Grace's father, Mark Ibsen, on the sled.
Ibsen, of Helena, introduced his daughter to the sport when she was 4 years old. She used to ride with her father on races, but when she was older, she began racing with her own team. Now a sixth-grader, Grace has been racing for seven years.
Grace finished her 25-mile course Saturday in 2 hours, 15 minutes. Her team will run the Lower Whitefish Lake Trail again today. The race begins at 8 a.m. at the Del Ray trailhead off of East Lakeshore Drive.
Saturday's results:
Twelve-dog teams
1. Robin Beall, Grand Marais, Minn.; 4:20.25
2. Butch Parr, Whitefish; 4:45.36
3. Rick Larson, Sand Coulee; 4:46.44
4. Laura Daugereau, Sand Coulee; 5:00.41
5. Kirk Barnum, Seeley Lake; 5:01.15
6. Rick Wannamaker, Didsbury, Alberta; 5:02.20
7. Ed Jenkins, Hudson Bay, Saskatchewan; 5:05.01
8. Butch Austin, Fruita, Colo.; 5:06.12
9. David Trench, Corvallis, Ore.; 5:07.01
10. Scott Donaldson, Olney; 5:09.16
11. Steve Riggs, Condon; 5:21.31
12. Ron Shaw, Wainwright, Alberta; 5:22.36
13. Karen Ramstead, Alberta; 5:28.01
. Six-dog teams:
1. Meghan Luke, Grand Marais, Minn.; 1:47.25
2. Charlotte Mooney, Lincoln; 1:47.40
3. Frank Caccavo, Deer Park, Wash.; 1:58.07
4. Sara Parr, Whitefish; 1:59.26
5. Wendy Arrotta, Condon; 2:00.35
6. Curt Roth, Post Falls, Idaho; 2:04.20
7. Dena Wannamaker, Didsbury, Alberta; 2:08.41
8. Mary Jane Davis, Post Falls, Idaho; 2:11.00
9. Grace Ibsen, Helena; 2:15.53
10. Mark Ibsen, Helena; 2:15.56
Reporter Kristi Albertson may be reached at 758-4438 or by e-mail at kalbertson@dailyinterlake.com.