News

Dog of the Week: Lena

Sarah · February 3, 2016 ·

Lena is a superb young athlete and has been the youngest dog in our kennel to finish both the Copper Basin 300 and the Northern Lights 300. Lena has been a dog that seamlessly fits into the team and always just does her job.

Although shy at first, after warming up Lena is a real sweetheart. In the checkpoints, she curls up into a tight little ball to sleep but is always excited to get a belly rub, eat a meal, or have her booties put on.

Lena works hard in the team and has done a truly impressive job, most likely earning herself a spot on Sarah’s Iditarod team!

Steaming Ahead

Sarah · January 31, 2016 ·

It’s been warm out lately. These late January runs feel like the beginning of April and I often leave the yard without my parka. We stop often, to eat snow and roll around it. I enjoy the silly eccentricities of my dogs during our pauses, each with their own quirk, and they relish the attention I give them. Crazy in particular loves to roll around in the snow and though she is not alone in doing this, the joy she gets can be surpassed by none.

When we leave on runs its all I can do to keep the team slowed and moving at a steady pace. I’ve learned that the only way to trust my speed is by looking at my GPS so I’ve grown accustom to looking at it. I’m sure it will be glued to my palm the first few days of Iditarod. I’ve been running shorter since the northern lights 300 but need to go longer now. The dogs leave on our runs too energized and comeback unphased. More camping is in store in the days and weeks to come.

Today, the weather was glorious and it was amazing to be out on the trail. Although we moved well, when I stopped the team we would get tangled. I’m working with a young dog up front who doesn’t know his responsibilities as a leader yet. More than once I could be heard cursing as I ran up to get him lined back out. The lightbulb hasn’t click yet – He doesn’t get what I am asking – so it’s been a painstaking exercise in patience and praise.

For me, sometimes I think I learn the most when things don’t go smoothly. Today we made so many wrong turns because I had no idea where we were and so the dogs and I had to work through those consequences. Although my leaders struggled with lining out, they were pretty spot on when it came to their directional commands. We turned around in parking lots. We made arching loops on the river. We cursed at my stupidity — how many times could I get is lost?

We mostly had fun. The dogs wagged their tails and barked with excitement when we stopped. I enjoyed the weather, the performance of my team, and the serenity of the trail. And even when I was untangling my leaders for the umpteenth time I knew that I was learning as a musher and was trying (my best) to impart a little wisdom on my young leaders. Plus, it was better to find all this out now than on Iditarod!

Sarah Stokey and the 2016 Copper Basin 300: Mendeltna And the Finish Line

Sarah · January 31, 2016 ·

This is the last post on my Copper Basin 300 race.

Sourdough
This was another run that has become fuzzy with time. My feet were cold for a long time and I know that it was tough staying awake in the early hours of the morning. We trudged along, hour after hour, it seemed hardly getting anywhere.

The one thing I do remember is that t took us almost 6 hours to go 30 miles. This was impressively slow. I had wanted to camp halfway through but knew that it really wasn’t realistic given how slow we were moving, so I ended up pulling over earlier then anticipated only a third of the way into the run. I thought perhaps I may need to camp again too given how slow we were moving — so this seemed as good a time as any.

I’d brought straw and laid it out for the dogs. I got my cooker going and prepared a meal but held off on giving it to my dogs; they were tired and I knew wouldn’t be interested. I set my alarm and after about two hours of rest I fed them. I camped longer than expected.

At one point Jason Stewart passed as I was slowly getting ready to leave around 10:30. I told him I was frustrated because we were moving slow and he reminded me that at least we were still in it — many teams had scratched in Sourdough. He said his team was also moving slow and that sometimes that’s just how it goes. He gave me some toe warmers which I gratefully accepted and continued on down the trail. He expected to camp within the hour so I told him I’d see him in a bit.

We were slow to leave. I finally realized that we were just going to move slow and accept that for what it was. I couldn’t fix anything or do anything that would change it.

We mushed through the afternoon and at dusk the team and I descended onto Lake Louise, a pink sky lit up over head. This is worth it. I told myself. This right here is worth traveling slow and still moving. It was so brilliantly pink and lit up a small hill on the fair side of the lake.

We mushed past a large Bernese mountain dog who chased across the lake for some time and then found ourselves mushing up a road and then back on the pipeline.

We turned on to the trail near Mendeltna and I started getting tired. I was given a sharp wake up call when the dogs and I passed one of the largest moose I’d ever seen just off the trail. They barked and barked and barked and for awhile it seemed that we had speed again.

After that I sung loudly. Every now and then I’d get completely off key and the dogs would turn around and look at me as if to say hey lady, do you mind being quiet?

I’d sung a lot on the trail, loudly. My biggest fear throughout the race wasn’t a moose encounter but was having another team come upon me as I belted out Disney songs, 90s pop songs, and show tunes. I would never live it down.

I wa greeted in Mendeltna outside the Checkpoint by Dwayne and Travis who were whistling loudly. They’d written my name in snow on the banks and had made snow angels. They even had signs that said “Go Sarah!” I was flattered, embarassed, and smiling like a lunatic.

The dogs fed off the upbeat atmosphere and pulled into the checkpoint and put on a show, barking and lunging with excitement. “It’s just an act,” I told Travis, half joking. I knew if I asked my little puppies would keep going but that would not be fair.

Travis showed me the checkpoint and I told him that given the long run times I had I was probably staying longer. He confessed he had a conundrum – he needed to be at the finish for Justin and Wyatt in a few hours and also here to pick up after me. In the end, our friend Noah kindly agreed to help us.

Mendeltna was nothing short of amazing. Everything about it was amazing, including the volunteers. My friend Julie, who I met at the race a few years prior, was the checker. Her radiant smile and upbeat attitude was the icing on the cake.

After I took care of my dogs, I went inside. The tables were exquisite and on stool at the bar sat a hairless cat. I gawked.

“Woah,” I said, not sure if I wasn’t seeing things.

“That’s wild,” Travis said. Ok good – I wasn’t hallucinating.

Travis had ordered a pepperoni pizza and it was ready by the time I got inside. It was the best pizza I think I’ve ever had. Then a friend nearby ordered a burger. Travis saw my eyes light up with delight and ordered one of those too. I ate half of the pizza and half of the burger, which again was heavenly, and then passed out.

I woke when Travis and Dwayne left to say goodbye and feed again. After they left, I curled up on an open couch and told myself I’d sleep for two hours, wake and go. I couldn’t fall asleep. Sphinx, the cat, coming up and walking on me. Finally, as I started drifting off into sleep she jumped on my face in a full on assault. I jumped with panic, despite not being clawed. I was in that half awake state but now was fully alert. Resigned to the fact I wouldn’t sleep, I headed out and bootied my team.

When I went to booty Pippa, the youngest dog on my team, I learned she was sore and so left her with Noah. I left the checkpoint and the team poked along.

The trail paralleled the road and less than a quarter mile from the checkpoint I saw my truck zooming back towards Mendeltna then slow down.

“Who is that?!” Travis yelled out the window.

“It’s me!” I shouted back.

“Damnit! We just missed you.” He said but then drove along, eyeing my team. He followed along for about 3 minutes and then sped off into the night. “See you at the finish!” He called.

Then I was alone again with the dogs and the night. It had started snowing lightly and I couldn’t figure out whether to wrath my rain jacket or my parka. In the end I wore my rain jacket under my parka.

It was a long run into the finish.

During the early hours of the morning I came across another musher stopped on the trail. I asked how he was doing and he said bad. He couldn’t get his team going. I told him he could follow me and then waited as he got his dogs ready. He started off and followed me, for awhile it seemed promising but after I grew confident in his team I stopped turning around to check and somewhere along the lines we lost them. Although I felt bad for him, there was no way I was turning my team around so we continued down the trail.

The trail was endlessly straight. Mind-numbingly straight. After a few hours I was convinced we were lost but we kept going. On and on. Through a patch of woods, through a clearing. More woods. Another clearing. Always straight. Always able to see miles ahead.

The trail had always been so interesting up until this point that I felt completely let down. What a boring run to end on.

My GPS slowly ticked off the miles. The dogs kept moving. We stopped a lot. We played. We snacked. We kept our spirits up by enjoying each other’s company. I sang loudly and occasionally would hear birds chime in.

We saw a jack rabbit.

And we continued to go straight.

Finally, it ended and we popped out into a road. The team picked up speed and my attitude soared – we were near the finish.

Just kidding!

On and on it went like that, me thinking the finish was just around the corner only to realize it wasn’t.

When we finally did reach the finish, I was beyond thrilled. There was a crowd to greet me. Travis was whistling with delight and the dogs put on a fine show, coming into the chute.

My mandatory gear was checked by Meret and then we were officially done. We finished in 37th place in 51 hours and 4 minutes.

The dogs were happy to be at the truck and i was thrilled at the idea of sleep and a warm shower, which I soon got both.All in all, the Copper Basin 300 was a great race and I really learned a lot both about my dogs and myself. Here were some of my key take away points:

As long as you are moving, that’s something.
Coda would gladly run up front and help lead the team.
We needed to find more sugary snow before Iditarod to train in as well as other conditions we hadn’t seen yet in training.
Hand warmers even make wet gloves warm. Pack a lot of them.
Always carry more food then you think.
It’s ok to turn your brain off for a wile cruising down the trail
The dogs have a lot of heart — just believe in them.
I thought my dogs had better hydration after meals that included rice
Cater meals to your dogs 100% of the time.

I also still had a lot of questions:

Who would bounce back the fastest?
What could I do to improve my teams speed?
How could I be more efficient in checkpoints and along the trail?

I really enjoyed my race and would like to thank my team, Travis for handling, Dwayne for flying up from Oregon to handle, justin, wyatt, all of the volunteers, all of the vets, and the race itself for making such a fun event possible!

Thanks to all for your support!

Slowly Preparing for the 2016 Iditarod

Sarah · January 30, 2016 ·

I’ve been starting to work on drop bags. The easy parts. Packaging granola bars and Capri suns. I eat like an NFL defensive lineman when I’m out on the trail so outfitting me with food is no small task. Fortunately, both Travis and myself are well supported by our town of Seward. Dan and Madeleine Walker lead the team of Sewardites in cooking us trail meals. They coordinate donations and then go out of their way to make sure everything is vaccumed sealed. It is one of the most unique and helpful ways the Walkers have chosen to sponsor us — it frees up a tremendous amount of time not worrying about it.

In the next week, I’ll start working on packaging hand warmers, gloves, extra hats, and neck gaiters as well as extra sets of clothes to send out. It is so relieving and refreshing to put on a new pair of clothes out on the trail. I’m sad though because I only have one set of my favorite pair of long underwear. I’m seriously considering buying a second set!

The dogs have been doing great. Today I left with a 14 dog team and quickly tipped the sled and skidded for a ways before jamming in my snow hook. For a moment, I thought it was all over. I banged my wrist pretty badly and immediately thought the worst. I quickly realized I was over reacting and that I was just fine. I guess my nerves are starting to get me! But boy, does this team have power. I was on my brake for the entire run. They were wired.

I really had a great run with the team. After I got back, Travis and I compared field notes – also known as photos of our GPS and were amazed to see that we’d gone practically the same mileage despite not talking to one another, training out of different areas and running on seperate trails.

At night, I’ve been trying to be productive – by packaging up things for food drops or doing other things to prepare me for the ‘big’ day. I should have made necklines tonight or worked on my toggles for my gangline. Instead I binged on Law and Order SVU and relaxed by doing some art. I can never get enough of Oliva Bensen, so much that I even named a dog after her ( a boy) who is currently on my team. I wanted to name a whole litter after SVU characters but that got the vetoed. I’m sure I’ll have another opportunity!

Anyways, it’s late and I have all the work I didn’t do – toggles, labeling drop bags, running again – to do tomorrow. Things are sneaking up fast!

I am excited because my sister confirmed last week her plane tickets and I just got an email from my brother with his plane ticket. My whole family, minus my amazing brother in law and my two adorable nephews, will be at the starting line to send me off on my way to Nome! I am beyond thrilled!

Happy trails,

Sarah

Sarah Stokey and the 2016 Copper Basin 300: Sourdough

Sarah · January 30, 2016 ·

This is a multi part series on my copper basin 300 race. Please check out the other posts:

Dog team overview

Part 1: The Starting Line

Part 2: Chistochina

Part 3: Meier’s Lake

As we left Meier’s lake for Sourdough, I realized I wouldn’t be indoors for another 120+ miles. I knew I needed to make every effort to keep my gear dry on this run as it would be virtually impossible to dry it out until I reached Mendeltna.

Taking off from Meier’s lake, I expected the trail to be flat. I don’t know why had this assumption. Most of the Copper basin is very very hilly. So when we reached an enormous hill about a mile and a half out of the checkpoint I quickly realized that I had made a big mistake putting him on my cold-weather gear.

I knew by now that wearing it up the hill would be fool hardy – especially given that if I got particularly sweaty I wouldn’t be able to dry anything out. So I stopped the team, they barked and lurched with excitement, and I hastily removed my parka and jacket.

Up we go! I told myself and the team. And up, up, up, we went. We were in rolling hills. I enjoyed mushing for some time in the daylight and enjoyed the warm colors of the sun on the snow.

One of the things mushing reminds me of is how vivid and beautiful the natural world is. I’ve always loved color. I’ve never been exceptionally talented at drawing but really enjoy working with color. Everything is so vivid and wonderful. Even the trees have so many colors to them and the subtleness of the different colors brings me such joy. I really love being outside with the dogs.

Whenever we crested hills I enjoyed the clearness of the day and how far I could see. Mostly I enjoyed the rythm my dogs created in their movements and thinking about who on the team I thought would make my Iditarod team.

To be honest, I think in terms of sled driving this was my favorite run. It was also my emotional low point. The terrain varied and was mostly hills with dips and twists and woods – my favorite type of mushing – but it was also a long run for us despite the short mileage.

I expected to be in be in the checkpoint sooner than I was. Anticipation is the worst part of racing in my eyes. When you anticipate something that isn’t there. Expecting something to be the checkpoint, only to find out it isn’t. Calling the dogs up, perking their attitude only disappoint yourself and them. This happened once when we neared the road and I thought the lights of a semi were the checkpoint lights. How bitterly it felt to here the woosh as it went by.

My dogs seemed stuck in an endless trudge that we couldn’t break. Our speed was slow but steady. We moved, albeit slow. At times, I thought I could probably walk faster.

I got frustrated but never let it show. I wanted to be moving faster than we were but couldn’t. There was no way to get the dogs moving. So I reminded myself of the positives and the dynamics of my team. They were young. Everyone but Madori was 2 or under and it was their first race. We were in sugary snow, stuff we hadn’t trained in. My expectations for them to be moving faster was unrealistic and unfair. They were happy, eating, and we were doing it. That was something.

I got passed by one team that left me in the dust. It was fine but I kept wondering why the teams around me were moving so much faster. Were my dogs sick? Was it the trail – but others so had this problem of not training on sugary snow – was it their age? Had I gone too fast on my first run? Were my dogs undertrained? Had I simply trained too slowly throughout the season?

I started questioning everything I had done, not out of a lack of confidence in myself or my team but in an analytical approach. What could I have done differently up to this point to get better results? Were better results possible?

I knew there had to be a way to have a faster team but wondered what exactly needed to be done. Was I overlooking something simple?

These questions stuck with me throughout the run and still do. I was also haunted by the fact that I knew that if Travis was driving this group of dogs that they would be moving faster. They would be performing better. And that of course opened up more questions: what did he do that I didn’t? What did he have in him or in his relationship with the dogs that always seemed to allowed a strong performance?

We continued down the trail. I stopped and noticed that Check, who had not been eating his snacks, was somewhat dehydrated. I considered bagging him. I also considered camping because I had no idea where the checkpoint was. My GPS had died and although I thought I was close I had thought that many times before and been wrong. I decided I’d go another 30 minutes and if we didn’t hit the checkpoint or see it, I’d stop for an hour. The dogs started barking and we went about another 200 yards before the checkpoint came into view. We were that close and I had had no idea! I was relieved I hadn’t simply stopped and camped – I would have been so frustrated!

When we got in to the checkpoint, Travis and Dwayne were cheering us in. There upbeat attitudes removed any doubt I had in myself or my dogs. Travis rode the sled with me because the checkers were far from the place we parked the team and said the dogs looked great. I told him I thought they were slow but he brushed my concern off. My confidence was restored.

When I parked the team , I started melting snow and immediately got my cooker going. Then came the straw and removing booties. As the cooker melted, I massaged dogs and organized my sled. I got chicken skins out and put them in my bucket to thaw and feed with kibble. They seemed to be the favorite food amongst my dogs. I fed the team and then started water for a feeding later on, warming up a burrito and some liquids so I could continue to stay hydrated. It was the worst meal I had the entire race at a checkpoint.

There was nowhere to sleep so after Justin and Wyatt left, they were now hours ahead of me, Travis raked the straw up and told me to sleep on it. I set my alarm, took my boots off and passed out in my sleeping bag.

I woke easily to the beeping. I slid my feet into my boots which were now icy. Taking them off, I realized, had been a big mistake. My feet would remain cold for hours until I ran into another musher who was kind enough to give me some toe warmers.

The team ate well, which raised my confidence but Check was sore though and still somewhat dehydrated. I made the decision to drop him, which was disappointing although necessary.

The checkpoint was spread out and before I left I had to go on a hike to find the bathroom and sign out. I signed out and got the team going, knowing I had another long run with a camp out before me.

I was looking forward to this run: it was the second to last of the race. Completing it would mean I was one step closer finishing.

I pulled hook and the dogs and I headed off into the night and lit up the trail.

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