News

When They Leave Us Behind…

Sarah · October 31, 2011 ·

We apologize for not updating sooner, but the end of October was not kind to us. We lost two dogs rather unexpectedly this past week and are still trying to recover.

Hatchet

Hatchet, was one of our mean lead dogs and spent the entire summer up in Anchorage keeping Travis company. He was an exceptionally friendly and intelligent dog. I remember one day this fall when it had been raining for several days straight, Travis and I went out into the dog yard to start digging ditches to clear some of the water. When we got to near Hatchet’s area, he took one look at what we were doing and, voracious digger that he was, he pitched in and helped out. He wasn’t digging just randomly either. He was an incredibly smart and talented dog who, on more than one occasion, walked leash-less in downtown Anchorage. All he needed was vocal commands.

Although he was primarily Travis’ leader, the few times I ran Hatchet up front I was nothing short of impressed. Travis had Hatchet since he was a puppy and, fortunately, we have several of his kids to remember him by: Larry, Curly, and Little Screamer. I will always remember how excited he was whenever he ran off leash or how excited he was simply to pull; Hatchet knew how to get the team moving. He will be terribly missed.

Chena

Chena was my pet dog. A ten-year old Siberian husky, she was incredibly devoted to me. To others, she was frustrating. Try as they might, Chena was difficult to befriend. She had an incredibly ambivalent attitude towards most people. A gentle-spirit, Chena was extremely shy, incredibly funny, and unbelievably loyal. I’ve never had a dog follow me around the way Chena would. My mother used to call her my lady-in-waiting. If I left a room, Chena would leave the room or if I stood up, she’d stand up. Simple things, but her love and devotion were evident. If I left her for the day, you’d never see a dog jump up and down with so much excitement upon my return — I will certainly miss that. I actually couldn’t even get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom without her following me to sit outside and, on more than one occasion, she simply barged her way in. She was a dog that knew what she wanted and often got it.

One time, Chena tried to eat my college diploma. She once ran around under the chairlift at Killington Ski Resort. When we went skiing, we used to tie her up outside and gosh, could she howl — we could here her from the mountain. She had two stuffed sheep that she liked to think were her puppies and that she’d do anything for. She walked into a lit fireplace, forcing us to coin the phrase “Chena-dumb.” But she was anything but stupid. She knew how to get what she wanted. She often felt like she needed to compete for my attention and, as a result, often didn’t warm up to the other people in my life. She routinely ran away when my parents watched her. She always barked like mad at my father. And, on more than one occasion, she tricked Travis out of bed simply to steal his spot and lie next to me. She is the only dog I’ve ever known to break into the pound and the only dog I’ve ever known who ran away from sheep. We used to live near a sheep farm when we were still in New England and I used to walk her out there. She’d sit and watch the sheep but, one day, her presence seemed to upset the flock and they started baahing. This terrified her. That dog high-tailed it out of there so fast I had no time to do anything about it; but I didn’t worry. I walked home and she was simply sitting on the front porch waiting to be let inside. She was incredible dog and moving forward will not be easy.

Saying Goodbye

The shock of losing both Hatchet and Chena within such a small span of time still doesn’t feel real. I still come home and open the door gingerly because Chena used to sit in front of it when I went out and, if I opened it too quickly, I’d hit her with it. I still look out at Hatchet’s house and expect to see him there — instead, there’s a young goofy looking pup because the sight of his house empty was simply too hard to see. Yesterday, putting away harnesses, we saw Hatchet’s harness and Chena’s. It’s the little reminders that they’re gone that are the painful ones. Not having to yell at Hatchet to line out when we first start hooking up or having to put him back on his house when we’re done with a run. Not hearing Chena barking with excitement because oh my god! it’s time to eat. It’s looking at Goblin and Gremlin who weren’t her puppies but whom she adopted anyways and protected from the other dogs.

Hatchet and Chena are buried next to one another in the back yard. To make things a little more bizarre, Chena was actually pregnant with Hatchet’s puppies. Unfortunately, the puppies did not survive — and Chena, who so desperately wanted to be a mother, I think died mostly of a broken heart. Although it by no means makes things easier, we take comfort knowing that Chena, Hatchet, and their puppies are together as a family in heaven.

The Lovely Trail Work Adventure

Sarah · October 16, 2011 ·

The weekend has, once again, kept us rather busy. Yesterday we went out to take a tree that had come down off the trail — it was supposed to be a half hour project at most but somehow we ended up out doing trail work for 5 or 6 hours. It was necessary. It needed to be done. It wasn’t exactly boring but… it definitely wasn’t what I had in mind. I was less that thrilled to be out there and, I’m quite sure, I made this clear to Travis several times. I was hungry. I hate being hungry. And anyone who knows me well can attest at just how lovely I can be when I am hungry.

Still, we got what we needed to get done, done (or at least mostly done.) We actually created one entirely new section of trail that we ended up running on today, which was exciting. It’s basically a shortcut to our main trail but it’s still nice because the dogs like to see new things. It will probably be better to run on in the winter than it is now, provided we get plenty of snow. As it is, there are a lot of rocks and we have to crawl through several sections so that the dogs can get good footing.

We also cut down limbs on our main trail and fixed areas that were lacking in dirt. On several sharp turns we had places were some of the dogs had the potential of getting swung into small branches. This wasn’t really something we wanted to happen so we removed them just as a precaution. In more than one place, we may have gone slightly overboard but better to be overly cautious.

There were also several places where we hacked away at banks and added dirt. One section of the trail was particularly rutted because it’s essetially become a small creek. While this itself wouldn’t present a problem, the way it was rutted in particular made it difficult to drive the four-wheeler (for me, not Travis) so we fixed this section and made it Sarah-proof.

We also filled in one particullary deep hole on the trail so that dogs couldn’t fall in and get hurt. We were sitting looking at it trying to find a good solution (it was a mud hole, full of water, and at least knee deep if not more) when Travis came up with a brilliant solution: there was an old rotting log nearby and we took the rotted wood, broke it up into chunks and filled it in. It worked really really well.

Funny enough, the tree we set out to remove had, by the time we got out to it, had been taken care of by someone else who was probably looking for firewood. Sick of working, we embarked on an adventure up a trail that Travis couldn’t remember where it led to. We never did find out. The willows started growing in too thick and we kept getting hit as we tried to drive up the trail. We ended up turning back. I’m sure we will try to tackle it again soon.

Strangely, at the end of all this I felt rather unaccomplished. Although the changes were evident when we hit the trail today, it seemed to take longer than it should have (probably because I was working at a glacial pace.)

Today we took the dogs out on two long, back to back runs. We ran them this morning, came back to the house and let them eat and rest for awhile, and then we hit the trail again tonight. All-in-all we were really impressed with how the dogs did. It was there first real big test and they all passed with flying colors.

I wish there was something special to tell you about, something that jumped out in particular about the run itself, something exciting we saw or did, but the real exciting thing was just seeing how well the dogs performed and how excited they were even at the end of the second run. Even when we got back to the yard, the dogs were still barking and screaming because they wanted to go. You can’t ask for more.

Well, that’s all for now!

Volunteering with The Cook Inlet Aquaculture Association

Sarah · October 11, 2011 ·

One of our sponsors is the Cook Inlet Aquaculture Association. Every year they kindly donate us fish after they have taken eggs from them and in exchange we try to help them out when they need it. They use the eggs they collect to stock the hatcheries. They also monitor how many fish they get as it is critical to fish and game for determining when they can open up to commercial fisherman in the beginning of the season. They have to let so many fish return to their spawning grounds so that the salmon population will stay stable before they can allow fisherman to start catching them. Good idea, because they sure are tasty!

The Bear Creek Weir, which is where we get our fish from here in town, has two big salmon runs. In the spring, they have the Sockeye Salmon, also known as the reds (for salmon illiterate folk like me) and here in the fall they have the Silvers.

Not really knowing a whole lot about salmon, I found coming down to volunteer some of my time pretty interesting. The whole idea is that we are helping the hatcheries and keeping the salmon stock healthy. To that extent, we’ve collected about 140 silver salmon eggs and fertilized them so far. It’s a pretty interesting process. First, the salmon swim up to the weir. It’s approximately a 7-mile swim from the ocean to the weir and takes the fish about 5 days. Then, the fish are forced to swim up into the fish trap.

identifier?continue=https%3A%2F%2Flh3.google — Salmon Fish Trap: This is the only opening in Bear Creek so the fish are forced to swim up into the holding pens.

Once in the fish trap they are sorted male/female. For every 3 females the weir takes 1 male. I’m still not exactly sure why they don’t do a 1:1 ratio, but I guess they have their reasons!

When enough fish have been captured, the weir performs an egg take. That’s when we go in and help them. Although no one part of the egg take is particularly difficult, when you add it all together if you don’t have enough people it can be a lot of work.

The first thing we do is kill the fish. We only kill a few at a time so that everything stays fresh. I ended up helping bleed fish on one of the days I helped for the first part of the morning. Essentially, I cut near the tail so that the fish would bleed out. It makes it easier to take the eggs and, more importantly, to get a kidney sample later on.

They put the eggs of three females in one bucket. Then, they take a male salmon and (this is kind of gross) they essentially squeeze the sperm out of him to fertilize the eggs. Once this is done, the eggs are put in a salt water rinse.

The fish, both male and female, are then taken and kidney samples are taken to ensure that they don’t have kidney disease. I guess it is a pretty prevalent disease among salmon and they are trying to ensure a healthy stock. From what I could tell (I mostly bagged kidneys) it seemed like the fish were healthy. If the findings show any of the fish have the disease, however, the eggs will be tossed out.

2011 10 10 11 04 18 291 — Kidney sample from the 80th female. This will be tested for kidney disease. If it’s positive, the eggs from this fish will be thrown out.

After all that has been done, Travis and I get to take some of the fish and the rest goes to other local mushers. It’s really a great set up and we’re really happy we have such a cool way to spend our time and to help out. We are extremely grateful that the Cook Inlet Aquaculture Association helps us feed our dogs tasty salmon all winter long and that they provide us with such an interesting volunteer opportunity!

Fall Training Video Update

Sarah · October 10, 2011 ·

Here’s a video to show off the team. Unfortunately, we haven’t yet mastered the art of recording so you’ll have to tilt your head to watch it. Travis shot this while out on a run. Loon and Hatchet are in lead. We are hoping to get a gopro camera here soon so that we can take some stellar footage. Right now we are using my little Canon Power Shot point and shoot. It used to work really well but we went on a puppy walk this summer and I stupidly dropped it in the river…. Whoops!

Fall Training Update

Sarah · October 9, 2011 ·

Running on dirt roads — Travis with the team

There is something soothing about the fall, the way the sun starts to trickle through the yellowing leaves. There’s something soothing too, about the routine of change that it brings: the tourists leave, children return to school, and, everything, even the Earth, seems to let out a great deep sigh. It’s over, it seems to say. It’s time to settle down. The heat slowly fades away and the dark returns and, sometime when you aren’t looking for it, the mountain tops begin to get dusted with snow. Most begin to prepare for the long hibernation that winter will bring, but not us.

The team — Weiser and Jack are in swing, followed by the rest of the team.

We shake off the heat and welcome the cold that has begun to linger in the morning air. We look forward to days when our windshields are frosted and we have to blow on our fingers to keep them warm as we run out to the car. We are dog mushers and, with the cold, we welcome back a way of life we’ve had to let go of over the summer.

Fall training starts well before the heat leaves, but it never truly begins until the first cool morning when the cold catches your breath so that you can see it when you exhale.

Hill training... — Heading up a pretty steep hill, you can see the steam coming up off the team.

This is the start of my favorite time of year. The beginning. For most, it comes later when the snow is on the ground and we are running on sleds but, I like it all. The fall brings a raw excitement to the dogs and to us: there are so many possibilities that are always present at the start of something new and it’s exciting to discover them.

To be perfectly honest, we do not know what this season will bring. So far, we’ve seen nothing but changes, both big and small. I’ve become a part of Turning Heads Kennel in a way that seems as if I was never not a part of it. Our routine here seems so familiar, so inherited. We’ve seen many dogs come, perhaps too many, because in a few short months our kennel has grown to about thirty dogs and we’ve seen a few good dogs go too, who we’ve entrusted to friends for the season and who we will lovingly welcome back in the spring.

313025 2061079486974 1244280008 31844965 524132101 n — The team heading out to the Old Iditarod Trail in Seward

But so far, our days have been peaceful. The teams look good when we run them: they are always eager to go and do every thing we ask of them. We run them through rivers where they have to swim, up hills where they have to pull extremely hard, we make them pass side long and then head-to-head and all the while they simply never stop going. Their feet don’t tire, their heads never hang low — they are always ready, always wanting more.

Sled dogs are amazing animals. All they do, all they want to do, is run. And here it shows. In the morning they sing to us, wanting to run and in the evening they sing to us, joyous, after they’ve run. And while they are running they smile. And if we stop running for a moment they’re anxious and eager and pulling and trying to run again.

Curly: I AM AN ALIGATOR — Curly really wants to get going!

When we finish, there are plenty of wagging tails. Everyone is let loose, one at a time, and we watch as they go back to their house, some go fast, anxious to get home and to get fed, others meander casually about, stopping to sniff and say hello to their neighbors. But they all get there, each in his own time, each ready to settle down. That is, until their evening meal is brought out. It’s devoured before it’s ever entirely in their dish — their heads get wet from plunging in so furiously.

At night, The dog yard smells of sweat and fish and, overhead, now that the summer has faded onward the stars have come out again and we are reminded once again that the days are not endless. Winter is still a long ways off but, in these moments under the electric lights of the dog yard, our breath and the dogs breath steaming out we can begin to feel its fingers wrapping around us. It will be upon us soon enough.

Uh, we had a slight weapons malfunction, but uh... everything's perfectly all right now. We're fine. We're all fine here now, thank you. How are you? — Naboo. One of our our new dogs. Extremely friendly.

So far this fall, Travis and I have stayed busy. He’s has been travelling again for work, but we managed to make it up to Willow recently for the Sled Dog Symposium and to see old friends. We spent the evening at Dallas Seavey’s house, drinking beers, feeding dogs, talking about dogs, and making mac and cheese. In the morning, we ran dogs with him and helped get him going on his fall training. It was a good time. After, we shot targets before heading to visit with Team Ollie, whom I used to work for when I lived in Massachusetts and who recently moved up here. We got to see the house they are building, visit with my old dogs and old friends.

This little girl is fast! — Bayou. Another one of our new dogs. She has a nice fast trot.

Then, we went to our friend and fellow musher, Wade Marr’s house to pick-up some of our dogs – Zema, Madori, Guiness and Mary. They spent the summer with him in Skagway and they finally came home. We got to run them up in Knik, where Wade lives and ended up coming home with two other dogs: Naboo and Bayou. All-in-all, it was a busy day but we enjoyed running dogs on other trails with other people

Bud (back). Loon (front) — Bud and Loon.

Well, that’s all for now. I will try to post more. My goal is to try to find time to post once a week. It’s been hard between work and running dogs and all the normal chores we have to take care of. Hopefully, we’ll find our groove and get to posting more.