Fur Rondy

So we are in Anchorage so I can attend the ASTE Conference. We didn't know until we got here it was also the Fur Rondy time as well. Fur Rondy is the Fur Rendezvous, which is kinda-sorta like the Muscatine County Fair, Buckskinner's Reunion and Great River Days all wrapped up in one, 10-day party. 

We happened across the start of the Fur Rondy Dog Sled races while coming back to the hotel after lunch. Just like with our dog sled ride, you had best have something big or heavy or a combination of the the two just to stop these champions once you have them in a harness. Until the start, it looks like they anchor down these dogs with a snowmobile they fasten to the sled, which is fastened to the dogs : 

Oh, how they howl, whine, bark and generally create a cacophony to let you know it's time to run. Run! Right freaking now!

Keep in mind that if the dogs want to, they can still MOVE the snowmobile, just not without exerting a great deal of effort. So yeah... basically, you have to drop a boat anchor that would sink an aircraft carrier to keep them from running away.

Winter Greyhounds. I swear that's what they remind me of. They may not be actual Greyhounds, but they have all the grace, and about a billion times the strength, stamina, and motivation of any Greyhound. In short, when it's time for them to run - get the hell out of the way!

Mush!

So this is what it looks like to be in the cargo area of a dog sled : 

Simply put, when the dogs are fresh, frisky and wanting to show off for you there is nothing on this Earth - I mean nothing - that accelerates with as much G-force as that dog sled. It'll snap your neck, man. You go from 0 - 20 in about 0.2 seconds.

We also learned these dogs are unique in mushing world, in they do not fear to blaze their own trail. According to our musher, the dogs that run the Iditarod WILL NOT leave the trail. You cannot force them off it. These dogs, on the other hand, are more than ready, willing and able to leave the beaten path and merrily drag you across God's creation on command.

There is nothing they love more than being commanded to do exactly that.

Lacking any other practical means, one literally has to throw the anchor overboard to bring these eager canines to a permanent halt. When they want to run, they want to run and brook little interference from you on the subject. While their stamina may be long, their patience is short in equal measure. They will accept brief respites to rest, but their collective minds are of but one thought : run.

When choosing which 10 will be the lucky few to go running, every dog puts on his or her best show and pleads to be let loose. Pick me! I can run! Let me show you how I can run, Master! I will run like the wind today, and twice as fast tomorrow! Oh, the cacophony.

Once harnessed, you discover the enthusiasm was not a charade. If the musher does not set anchor he will soon be short one sled, and one team. Muscles tense. Sinews tighten. Anticipation builds until... until... RAPTURE! Master wants us to run!

10 hearts... 10 minds... but one thought... RUN!

First Blizzard

So a real, true blizzard hit us on Monday. This is Friday evening and we are still digging out. Here's a few examples :

It's the first time I have seen a "no parking because of falling snow" sign, but as you can see from the snow almost reaching the sign, they aren't kidding. When it falls, it's not going to be a light dusting. It could be up to a ton of snow falling at once. There's no way to predict how much will fall.

Remember earlier when I said I had never seen it rain for days on end until I hit here? Well, it doesn't rain a whole lot at a time, but it rains and rains and rains in a gentle fashion. Truly, it's like a soft, drenching fog. Well, add in freezing temperatures, and 50-80 MPH winds, and suddenly it's like walking in a snow tornado.

There isn't a lot of snow falling in any one hour, but when you talk about a week's worth of hours you are suddenly talking about metric crap-tons of snow. See that third picture down? That's a shot from our apartment windowand the snow nearly makes it to the bottom of the window... which is about six feet off the ground. That's a lot of snow.

Let us know if you would like to have some, and we will see if we can ship it down your way.