
Or, the title of this post could be “I hate wind,” you choose. Cole did make it through the windstorm, led by Cyder and Hildy. The storm actually changed a bit, so the wind up high wasn’t as bad as predicted, but the wind down low was way worse. The last 10 miles into Chisto Cole faced solid 10-15 mph winds with steady gusts to 30-35 mph. Needless to say, the trail was blown closed in many places, and Cole (like all the mushers more than 5-10 minutes ahead or behind her) had to break trail. Still the dogs cam in looking good, and in good time. Their speed was still up for this late stage of the race, particulary after dealing with the gusts. They ate great again, but when it came time to bed them down, more problems arose.
Chisto was basically a wind tunnel, with constant gusts and snow ripping through the entire night and morning (see photo above of a weary Goliath caked in blown snow). SOme teams took shelter in the woods, but by the time COle got there, most of the choice locations were claimed. She ended up in a partly exposed area. This complicated EVERYTHING. Not only did it mean the dogs wouldn’t get a restful reprieve from the wind after just running in it for the last hour, but also it meant that everything had to be basically tied down. If cole put down more than one dish at a time, as the dogs ate from it and it got lighter, the wind would pick it up and throw it yards away. Even the wet meal was difficult to laddle out in the tempest.
Adding to the dilema, the straw provided must have been left out in a storm beucase the bails weren’t just moldy, they were also frozen solid (see picture below). Luckily a friend involved with the race warned us their might be straw shortages so we brought one up with us from home.

Also, I want to make a side note here, as I describe the race, I often focus on the things that go wrong or crazy, but 80 percent of the race is organized, so I don’t want anyone to think this whole thing is one big mess. The race could use a little more work in a few places, but overall, for a volunteer driven event, the organizars do a pretty good job. That disclaimer being said, I wanted to knock out one of the two checkers at Chisto. For some reason, it seems all dog races can’t help but find volunteers who’ve had drinking probelms. As I attempted to get Cole’s offical time when she came in, the one checker was a littlle more tipsy than he should have been for 5 a.m. He was having issues with understanding the time clock and proceeded to say how a minute or two was no big deal. I felt like shouting at him “NO big deal. My wife has won a race by 15 seconds!!!” so a couple of minutes is a big f’ing deal. People loose sight that it’s not just the top one or two mushers who are all racing. 10th, 15th, 20th, sometimes even further back than that, are mushers who are all racing to do their best, and their time counts as much as the front runners. Anyhoo, in an attempt to get around the first checker, I went to the second to ask about the time. SHe kept saying yes, but I wasn’t asking yes or no questions. After a few minutes of this someone finally told me she was deaf. At 5 a.m., after three days without sleep, I honestly have to say I was COMPLETELY stymied by the logic of race organizers to put a drunk and a deaf gal together as the offical checkers, but hey, this is a remote area of Alaska, so I guess any warm body you can get, you hand a clipboard and a stopwatch to. IN the end it all worked out (the deaf gal was actually quite on top of her game once she read my lips). Still I missed the hospitality of Paxson where (not sure if I mentioned this in the last post) the lodge owner let Cole stay in a room for free. It had only been slept in once without beng cleaned, but before she went up he said “I Fabreezed it for her, so it should be O.K.” I’m a big believer that beggars can’t be choosers, so I thanked the man and it was sincere.
O.K. back to the race, COle decided since she was out of the money, she would rest the dogs a good long time at Chisto. She offically only needed to stay for about an hour and a half, but she was going to give the dogs six hours of sleep and then get back on the trail. HOwever, the wind and snow were savage and relentless. The dogs just didn’t look like they were comforatable or getting quality rest, so after 5 hours she pulled the hooks and hit the trail again, led this time by Cyder and Crumb. She decided to leave HIldy behind, making it the first dog she had dropped in the race. THis was HIldy’s biggest race to date and she was doing nothing short of great, but COle said driving through the wind really took it out of her. She was looking really tired on the final few miles into CHisto. Wanting the whole experience to end positively for HIldy, Cole decided to leave her behind, rather than take a chance on pushing her for the final 74 miles to the finish and having the dog not last or like the final leg. The ever destructive Metoo and Shagoo were happy to gain a new companion in the cab.
On a final note, the last leg of the trail runs along a highway for several miles (see photo below of Cole leaving CHisto. This is actually no where near as close to the road as the trail gets in a few dangerous places). In a few section the trail is so close to the road the dogs can sometimes jump onto the highway, and once there, the surface of the asphalt is so icy and smooth, the musher can’t use a brake and literally becomes totally helpless and at the mercy of the team. This happend to two mushers, one a good friend of ours, a French Canadian from Quebec that we met while running the Quest last year. HIs dogs were flying down the highway for miles, right alongside another musher who had the same thing happen. They were lucky no semi’s cam barreling along, but in an attempt to gain control, the others mushers seld hit our friend’s dogs at high speed and injured two of them too badly to continue. As I drove from Chisto to Glennallen, I came across our friend now stnading in the road, signally for help to take his injured dogs by truck to see a vet. We loaded them up and got going quickly, but my friend was very upset over concern for his dogs. Like us he has a small kennel of only 20 dogs and he is very close to them. The whole drive to town he had tears in his eyes and just kept saying “It was supposed to end like this.” DOn’t be confused though, he wasn’t upset he wouldn’t see the finish line, he was upset his dogs wouldn’t beucase after running them for more than 250 miles, he believe they deserved the final credit for all their hardwork. What was truly sad for me is that his team looked great, so much so that hile he had loaded the two injured dogs into the sled while waiting for help, when I arrivved and offered assistance, his lead dogs were still hammering the harness trying to get the sled moving down the trail again. They had plenty of race still left in them.
O.K. this is getting too long, so I’ll end it here. Cole should be in sometimes in the early evening. I’ll meet her at the Glennallen checkpoint (20 miles from the finish) just to be sure she doesn’t need to drop any dogs, then it is on to the end. If I get a chance I’ll make one more post before its all over, otherwise the nest post may be from Cole about how it all went from her perspective. Thanks to everyone who has been following along. We couldn’t do this without your support.
