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Authors: D Jordan Redhawk

Broken Trails (36 page)

BOOK: Broken Trails
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Finished with her chore, she repacked her gear and climbed aboard the runners. "If I do this again, you can bet I'll stay here on my twenty-four," she said. She put on her head lamp for the impending darkness and signed out at nine thirty PM.

"If I do this again," she muttered to herself, amused. "What the hell am I thinking?"

This stretch of trail was literally on a road, another easy section since the road appeared to be maintained during the summer months. For the next eight or nine miles, she played tag with Roman as they both climbed gradual inclines. Eventually their dogs settled into a rhythm with less yelling at one another. It appeared she and Roman were evenly matched, and Lainey started considering serious strategies to beat him to Nome.

They left the road, sweeping up to the right and overland for a bit. Then they dropped back onto it, now heading downhill. In some areas, it seemed the trail was more ice. Lainey concentrated her head lamp to see sheets of ice that had frozen across the road from creeks alongside. Once or twice, the trail avoided the ice altogether by slipping into a ditch on the other side. Where bridges were built to span the water, the path sometimes led off the road and past them rather than going across.

Roman Spencer pulled off the trail, and Lainey slowed to pass him. "You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah. I'm just going to snack the dogs," he called back. "I'll catch up."

Lainey nodded and urged her team forward. Despite being in the lead, she wondered if there was something ahead that she did not know about, but he did. She frowned as her sled whipped along the road at an easy pace, trying to remember anything from the trail reports she had received. Nothing came to mind, and she finally decided he truly only wanted to give his dogs a break rather than trick her into an unenviable position.

She crossed several different creeks now, some with signs and some without, and followed the Innoko River for a spell. Her light picked up dark structures to the side of the road, evidence of old mining camps and cabins. Then a sign loomed closer. 'State Maintenance Ends.' That meant the checkpoint was coming up fast.

In the distance she saw lantern light, a warm glow shining from a cabin window. She smiled as she neared. The place looked like a Christmas card, with snow on the roof and the yellow light emanating from within, promising a grand welcome home to the weary traveler.

Barking dogs behind her broke her concentration and she glanced back to see Roman's head lamp closing in. Lainey laughed aloud and told her team to hurry along.

They pulled into the Ophir checkpoint a little after midnight, a full minute and a half before Roman Spencer. It was time for another rest.

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

THE COUPLE THAT owned the Ophir checkpoint cabin filled Lainey full of hot stew. Volunteers, mushers and drying gear filled most the available space. There was no room for mushers to sleep inside, but Lainey did not mind, wanting to be with her dogs after her extensive rest break in McGrath. She easily slipped back into the rhythm of the race, making sure her dogs were fed and watered and healthy before caring for herself. It took a little doing, but she forced herself to drink two of her fruit juices instead of one as Scotch had directed.

After a three hour nap, her alarm woke her with soft beeping in her ear. She quickly looked around to see if Roman had ditched her, but he snoozed on his sled a few yards away. There were four other mushers taking their breaks here, but she was not worried about them. With careful movements, Lainey got up and began her parting chores. She did not want to wake him if she could help it, though she figured he would be up on his own soon. No reason to give him more of an edge, was there?

She did not talk to her dogs this time, not wanting her voice to carry to Roman's sled, though she still gave them all the affection they were accustomed to as she fed them. She stepped lightly and tried to make as little noise as possible. By the time she was halfway through her tasks, Roman jerked awake, probably from his own alarm clock. Seeing her in the middle of her preparations, he shook his finger at her and dragged himself from his sleeping bag.

Lainey grinned, moving faster since she had no more need to be stealthy. Before he had time to finish feeding his team, she was booting dog paws and cleaning up their parking area.

She waved cheerily at him as her team mushed past, heading for the checkpoint. She thought she heard him grumbling at her, and she chuckled.

It was about six thirty in the morning as her team left the Christmas cabin. The sky was still dark though the sun would begin to rise in about an hour. Lainey waited until they got away before drinking more juice, mindful of Scotch's warning. She could not allow herself to be as messed up as before. There were no more twenty-four hour breaks ahead and still two thirds of the race to go.

The trail was still fast and easy, both a gift and a curse to her. Cold weather and easy trails let her get farther in less time, but also gave the same advantage to Roman and anyone else in the vicinity. Within the first few miles, the team crossed the Innoko River twice. Then they went into trees and onto tundra for awhile, paralleling the rivers as they went. The dogs trotted along, still energetic after their long layover, and Lainey could not help but feel proud of them. She had trained them all season and they seamlessly worked together as if they had been doing this for years. Granted, most of them had, but not together in this particular working arrangement.

As the miles passed, she kept an eye out for Roman. She estimated he was close to a half hour behind her as far as checking out. Whether or not he would catch up before she reached Cripple was the question. The sun rose, and she turned off her head lamp, putting on sunglasses to combat the glare of light on snow. Her heart ached at the sheer beauty of the area. According to her research, if the Iditarod did not go through here, no one would pass along these hills and river at all. This section of trail was too remote for anything more than back packers and the like during summer.

She snacked her dogs, keeping an eye behind her for evidence of Roman's approach. Still nothing. Had he decided to take his time?

The trees thinned and disappeared. Blackened stumps thrust from the snow and even in the dead of winter she could smell a hint of ash. A fire had come through here at some point in the past, and the trail led right through the damage. Lainey prepared herself for a rougher ride, but it never materialized. This burn was far less dangerous than the Farewell Burn.

Her team ate up the miles, rolling in snow to cool off when she stopped to snack them, and biting at it to quench their thirst. The trail crossed the river again. Burnt trees faded, replaced by uninjured ones.

Lainey's bladder began to argue with her about all the liquids she was drinking, and she fought with it for a while. Sooner or later they had to come to the next checkpoint. She dug out her copy of Scotch's notes, flipping through the pages. Scotch said it was normally a four to six hour run at the most. Lainey checked her watch. She had been on the trail for close to four hours. Should she stop and find a shrub or keep on a little while longer?

Deciding to tough it out, she continued on. She fantasized about being in the middle of the desert, trying to convince her body that she had not had anything to drink for days, that she was parched with thirst. It worked for a few more miles, but as the sled hit various ruts and bumps her bladder twinged more and more.

She debated how long it would take her to drop her drawers long enough to pee and move on. Her worries grew by leaps and bounds as she went, becoming so water logged that she almost missed the checkpoint as it came up.

"Whoa!" she called, stomping on the brake, and then cursing as the liquid in her bladder wobbled dangerously. Just what she needed was to pee her pants out here in the middle of an Alaskan winter.

She checked in, breathlessly demanding the location of the latrine.

The checker, a thin woman with a bright orange parka, chuckled. "It's over there. Go ahead, I'll have the vet wait until you're done."

"Thank you!"

When she finished, she ambled out of the outhouse with a relieved smile. Her dogs watched her, grinning and laughing as if to say they had it far easier than she. Of course, they did, having been trained to relieve themselves as they ran. A couple of men were with them, already checking each animal's health.

"Feel better?" one asked.

Lainey chuckled. "You can't imagine." She found her vet notes and handed them over.

"Looking good," the other said after completing his examination. He made some notes on one of the pages. "That one has some cumulative abrasions to her paws, though."

She gave Heldig a concerned look. "I don't want to run her into the ground. Do you think I should drop her now?"

The veterinarian considered a moment, even going back to Heldig to go over her feet again. "Not yet. I think she's good for a few more miles. She's definitely healthy enough to get you to Ruby, maybe even Galena."

Lainey nodded. Ruby was the next checkpoint and seventy miles away. Galena was the one after, about sixty miles further. "Okay. Thanks."

As she turned away from the vets, she saw Roman arrive. She debated snacking the dogs and getting out of the checkpoint to camp in the wild. No. Just her luck, he would decide to do the same and pass her up somewhere on the trail. Then he would know it for the ruse it was. There was still plenty of time for friendly competition as they neared the end of the race.

She directed her dogs to the holding area and began the process of feeding them and putting them to bed. Melted snow for water, two Gatorades drained, dog chow distributed and straw laid out for them. She was pleased to see Roman remained at the checkpoint, as well. She heated a couple of Molly's sandwiches on the lid of her boiling pot. She downed them, followed by warmed pumpkin bread slathered with butter for dessert. The butter tasted better than the bread, and she remembered Scotch eating a stick of butter at an earlier break. While the thought of doing the same still made her lip curl, her mouth watered a little.

Maybe one of the upcoming villages would have a store or something. She certainly did not have any extra butter in her food drops like Scotch did, not having planned for the craving.

Lainey yawned, and she put aside her considerations. She heard Scotch's voice in her head. "If you don't take care of yourself, you can't take care of your dogs." Smiling, Lainey prepared her sled and sleeping bag for a nap.

 

When she woke, it was still daylight, though the sun hung low enough to play hide and seek among the tree tops. It was cold, but not terribly so. She had a small thermometer attached to her sled, and it indicated the temperature hanging somewhere above zero. Lainey felt a mental burble of laughter. That was not what she was thinking last year about the weather! A few other mushers utilized this checkpoint for a break. As before, she kept her activities concealed, making as little noise as possible. Roman had learned his lesson, though. He had parked as close to her as he could, and woke when she started up her cookers. Lainey sighed in resignation as he rolled out of his sleeping bag with a knowing grin.

"Fool me once," he said, and began his own preparations.

Lainey smiled. "Didn't anybody teach you that the female is the more devious of the species?"

He barked a laugh. "Is that my warning?"

She did not answer, giving him a placid look. He laughed again, and she turned her attention to her team.

Heldig's paws were worn but not too much so, just as the veterinarian had said. Lainey donned her latex gloves and hand warmers, and slathered Heldig's pads with ointment. "Duct tape is still an option," she told her. Her response was a snuffling kiss on the cheek.

Chibee whined in excitement as dinner was dished out. "You act like I never feed you," she said. He ignored her words, falling to his chow with single minded purpose.

Nearby, Roman chuckled. "It's never enough." He glanced up from his cookers. "You might want to up their fat intake a little. How much are you running?"

"About a half pound." Lainey went back down the line with the extra water.

"Maybe make it three quarters, at least through the interior. They'll burn it up."

She murmured a response and continued her tasks. Would Roman endanger her dogs by giving her poor advice, all to beat her? From what she had read and heard of the Spencers, they seemed to be decent kennel owners. At the very least, Georgio Spencer had won three Iditarods and two Yukon Quests over the years. Roman had the experience of being raised in a kennel, just like Scotch had. There was also her own craving for butter. Were the dogs feeling the same?

Lainey decided that he would not give advice designed to affect her dogs and, hence, her standing in the race. Besides, what would be the point? So he could arrive in Nome a few places before her? He would be in upper middle of the pack, anyway. The major champion contenders were already jockeying for position.

Regardless, she resolved to not take his advice. Not until she could talk to Scotch, at least. Chances were good they would see each other in Ruby. She could ask her then. The only reason Scotch had not been at the Cripple checkpoint was because she normally blew through to camp in the woods nearby. Lainey, however, still held a little trepidation at being so far from civilization. Even the meager population of a checkpoint in the wild felt safer. There would be no choice between here and Ruby, though. The next checkpoint was too far away for the dogs to run all in one round. Lainey would have to camp in the wilderness next time.

She gathered doggie dishes and blankets, cleaned her area, and booted her team. It was becoming second nature. She finished the task in less than fifteen minutes this time. By the end of the race, she would be doing the same thing in five. This time she grabbed a bail of straw and lashed it to her sled. The dogs would need some warm bedding out on the trail.

"See you out there," she told Roman, who was in the final stages of preparation himself.

BOOK: Broken Trails
12.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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