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!

Run for Your Life!

I had my first run in with a wild animal on the way into work today. You know what? They really are more scared of you than you are of them. No, sadly, it wasn't a bear. It was a fox.

Well, I rounded the corner heading to work and there he was. He was intent on scrounging up a meal, and didn't seem the least bit interested in me... until I was inside his comfort "bubble". Now keep in mind this was still in the dark. He was vaguely aware of my presence until it got through to the hinterlands of his tiny little brain there was a dark, hulking mountain about to get very close to his person. So Mr. Wily Fox did what came natural.

He froze.

All animals become invisible when they freeze in place, of course. Except, I think, those who happen to be in the visual crosshairs of a human, who happens to be wearing an LED light which is now lighting Mr. Fox up like the 4th of July. Still, can't have him lurking about scaring women and children so I stomped my foot snarled at him in a most convincing fashion.

It was at this point Mr. Fox decided his invisibility cloak must have failed, because he went from a dead stop to about 60 MPH in .0001 seconds in any direction that wasn't towards me. It was like he decided to circumnavigate around me by deciding at any given moment what the odds were of dying if he continued into the darkness. So he would oscillate between heading starkly away from me, and kinda-sorta back in my general direction. The net result being, of course, a rambling circle around me and back to the ebon darkness from which he came.

He was a beautiful reddish-brown, but smaller than I would have believed a fox would be. Perhaps he was a young pup. I would say now, however, he is a born-again believer in glowing, snarling monsters that go stomp in the night.