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!

Calling It

No, there are no pictures of the dog-sled ride posted yet. No, we can't post any.

The great ride through the tundra was called on account of... rain. It was almost 40 degrees for a high temperature here in Dillingham today. I see that presently the temp is 10 degrees in Muscatine.

Not that I would rub it in or anything. Nope. Uh uh. Not me. No sirree, Bob! Negatory. Nein.

So the great ride has tentatively been rescheduled to Monday. That is :

IF the temperature takes a nose-dive, and

IF we get more snow, and

IF the rain stops melting the snow we have.

Now I know how disappointing it must be to play for the Chicago Cubs. ;-)

Mush!

Well, I done gone and did it.

This is either going to be one of my better ideas, or a frostbitten lousy one. For the Queen's Christmas present I bought her a two-hour dog sled ride.

Two Hours.

In the frozen Alaska tundra.

In the middle of Winter.

Where even if the wind isn't blowing the phrase "wind chill" is still going to be in play.

That if we don't watch what we are doing, we are going to freeze our assets off.

Pulled by hyperactive canines that have running as their idea of a good time.

In my defense, it sounded like a really, really good idea while sipping hot chocolate in a 70 degree (with wind chill) apartment. Now? Not so much.

We have been warned that if we dress warmly enough, we will have a blast. If we don't we are going to be miserable. Ok, fair enough. I already have boots and a winter coat that are both rated to -40 F., so I think I am good to go. Donna also has a coat and boots rated to -40 F., so she should be set.

The plan is to take along two smartphones with video capability so we should have some awesome pictures and video that will let you know what it's like to drag your carcass across the frozen wastes of Alaska at up to 20 MPH. We will suffer, so you don't have to.

Lord, Toto... we're not in Kansas anymore. ;-)