Seguin Mail Run and the Crappening

Photo by Lori Leaney

The team and I went back up to Canada in late February to participate in this year’s Seguin Mail Run:

Every year since 1985, "sledvelopes" with letters prepared especially for this event, are gathered, loaded onto sleds and hauled by several dog teams to Rosseau, Ontario, 17 km through the bush on groomed trails. Teams gather and leave from the Village of Humphrey, Ontario, on Highway 141, to the cheers and good wishes from the many spectators and friends as the teams disappear in the bush on their way to Rosseau to be received by the Postmaster.

Seguin is a special, invite-only run and not an actual race. And since it’s a point to point trail, we had to bring a handler along to move the van to the finish. Thankfully, Sheridan was willing to fly out and join us in the frigid cold for his first ever dog sled event experience.

I love the hospitality these little Canadian communities show mushers, both at the Kearney race and at Seguin. We were given lodging, meals, framed artwork, a Canadian post backpack, and a goodie bag loaded with treats and mail run swag. Spectators were so excited to meet the dogs and see them run. Mushing faces a lot of criticism from Animal Rights Activists—it’s a relief to be embraced by those who came out to see us.

The Seguin trail had to be shortened from around 12 miles down to 8.5 due to this crummy winter, but it was still a fantastic experience. We were lucky enough to get a final burst of snow in the week before the event, and the dogs were more than ready to go the distance.

The event fell on the last truly cold days of this season (we saw a low of -2ºF). I was worried about the dogs sleeping in the van overnight, since they didn’t really acclimate to cold this season and half had blown their coats, but the combination of bedding, straw, and jackets kept them toasty. It was a relief to hit the trail in sub-freezing temperatures, which is much preferred over the warm runs we’ve had this season.

We flew through forests, wound around frozen marshes, and emerged into the vast expanse of a frozen lake. I had heard there were lakes on this trail, but I wasn’t sure we’d get to see them, given the shortened course. I’m so glad we had this moment and that the dogs loved it just as much as I did.

We had a few missteps: slight turns off the main trail following snowmobile tracks, climbing through a shrub to get back on the trail, some iffy road crossings. But, overall, the dogs (Willow, Hopper, Sagan, Atlas, Blitz, and Hubble) did great. I was stunned when we saw a sign for Rosseau. Sheridan barely had enough time to park and prep the drop lines when we came strolling into town. I can’t wait to go back and run the full 12.5 miles there.

A downside to traveling with a team of dogs is that sometimes you bring home unexpected guests in the bowels of one (or more) of them. That was the case after we got back from Canada. Denali was the first to come down with symptoms. Within three days, Blitz, Laika, and Faye were sick. Hopper and Atlas were hit the following weekend. Thankfully, my vet was able to get us in and I had 126 pills to administer to nine dogs over the course of seven days. Somehow, a few of the dogs never seemed to have symptoms, but everyone got dosed due to the contagious nature of this particular GI bug.

Thankfully, we’re now on the other end of it, and everyone is feeling much better. Our events and races are mostly done for the season, though I might try to squeeze one more dryland event in, if I can swing it. Once my home trails have dried out a bit (if they ever do), we’ll continue on with short spring training runs until it gets too warm. And just like that, another season is in the books.

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Kearney

Photo by Marsha Ma and Co.

Our first international race is in the books! Kearney was also our second (ever!) snow race—a fact that surprised a lot of people. Having learned to mush in southern NJ and with unpredictable winters these past few years, I’ve just mostly ran dry land events. But I’m hoping for that to change! (Climate change be damned…)

As mentioned, this winter has been unkind to mushers everywhere. I was several hours into our drive to the race and it was still over 50ºF—in Canada—with no sign of snow. It wasn’t until I arrived at our hotel (20 minutes south of the race site) that I finally saw snow.

The trail crew for Kearney worked their magic and managed to set things up nicely despite the challenges. And day one was definitely a challenge! The temperature was still well above freezing and the snow was the consistency of mashed potatoes. Our six mile (5.5?) slog was demoralizing for myself and the dogs. Though we missed his power, I was glad I made the decision to run Faye instead of Atlas. He would’ve been sinking up to his elbows with his weight.

The dogs slogging through the mashed potatoes at day one’s finish. (Photo by Emily Ferrans)

Despite having a pretty slow run, I was surprised to see we finished in fifth out of eleven teams. The trail wasn’t just tough for us, it was tough for every team out there. After the first day of racing, a big group of mushers met up for dinner and did what we always do—talked about dogs. I’m grateful to be included in this community, with folks I’ve known since I started back in New Jersey and new friends I finally got to meet in person.

Race day two was like an entirely new trail. The temperature fell below freezing and didn’t come back up, so everything firmed up from the day before. I was worried things would become an ice luge, but the Kearney groomers worked their magic again.

In most two day sprint events, my team runs a little bit faster on day two. I don’t know if I’m just less anxious and hold them back less, or if they just find a groove. Either way, it’s usually by seconds or at most a minute or two. Kearney day two, our time was over five minutes faster than day one. That’s how much the trail conditions improved. It was a pretty white-knuckle run as the dogs whipped me around the twisty, technical trails. We crashed once coming down a hill, but it was one of those calculated falls that I couldn’t avoid. We got ourselves right-side up quick and kept on boogying.

Just as every team struggled a bit on day one, they all improved a bit on day two. We managed to hang onto a respectable fifth out of eleven overall and third out of the six “all breed” teams. I couldn’t be prouder of these dogs, especially after spending so much of the season training in mud.

Photo by Emily Ferrans

Next up, we’ll be participating in the ceremonial Seguin Mail Run back in Canada this upcoming weekend. I don’t know how much winter will be left after that, but I’m hanging onto hope we’ll get more time on the sled before spring rolls through.

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February Plans

We’re entering the last full month of winter with hardly any snow on the ground and nothing significant in the forecast. Our local race, the Tug Hill Challenge, was canceled for the fourth year in a row (2021 was due to covid, 2022-2024 due to poor trail conditions). We’re back on wheels for training, and with the super soggy conditions, that means limiting our runs to avoid damaging neighbors’ land.

Our only other close-by option for training is the state forest, but that will be tricky. There isn’t enough snow to safely sled with the full team. The ATV is off limits when there’s even the thinnest bit of snow cover. I’m not sure there’s enough coverage on the motorized trails for the snowmobile—but that might be our best bet. I’ll have to figure it out soon.

We need to increase our mileage before the end of the month, since we’re attending the 12-mile Seguin Mail Run on the 24th. However, over the next week, our sights are set on the Kearney Dog Sled Races. After Tug Hill was canceled, I decided to enter Kearney on a whim. At the start of the season, I had wanted to run Kearney’s 20 mile race, but balked after realizing it was a two day (20 miles each day) event. As the season picked up speed, I assumed I’d be training for events in the 10-15 mile range, so Kearney’s other classes slipped my mind. Bad weather has us behind in miles and other race options canceled or postponed, so running Kearney’s 6-dog, six mile class should actually be just right for where we’re at.

I haven’t decided who the race team will be yet, and it will probably be a race-day decision. I do plan to have Hopper and Willow lead with Hubble and Blitz in wheel. Team dogs are a bit of a toss-up. Sagan will likely be one of them, as she can also lead if I need to swap anyone. I’m fairly certain Laika will sit this one out, as this looks to be a spectator-heavy event and she doesn’t do well with large crowds. Atlas would definitely provide more muscle than Faye, but I’m not sure I’ll need (or want) that if the trail is hard and fast. Faye may also handle warm temperatures better, so we’ll see how things shake out.

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Little by Little

In the blink of an eye, our season is already at the halfway mark. So far, we’ve only attended one dryland race back in November (Paws of Thunder). We’ve only scratched one planned race due to warm temperatures. There’s a lull in events over the holidays, so we’re just now ramping back up into snow race season.

Speaking of snow—there hasn’t been much. A few small bursts over the past few weeks. Enough to get on the sled, but not with the full 8-dog team. So, instead, I’ve been splitting the dogs into two 4-dog teams and running them back to back. The challenge is finding enough time to run both teams the distance they need to prepare for our races. We’re still not quite there.

Each snowstorm has been accompanied by heavy winds and rain. I’ve spent just as much time maintaining the trail as I have mushing it. After the first snow, I took the snowmobile out to pack the base and check for downed trees. Even though temperatures had been below freezing, the trail on the far side of my neighbor’s land was still pretty soft underneath the snow. Combine that with a snowmobile that’s too big for me, and a bit too long for the complicated, winding trail, and you end up with a stuck machine.

It might look like I crashed into a tree, but it was more of a slow-motion slide into one. The snowmobile’s left ski caught the tree and I couldn’t manage to reverse in the soft mud. Luckily, I wasn’t far from home, so I left the machine overnight with no real plan, but the universe provided one. A town plow driver saw me struggling and managed to find me on Facebook to see if I needed help. He went out later that evening and pulled the machine away from the tree. I couldn’t believe it! What kindness, out of no where.

The next morning I set back out to get the machine home, but immediately got stuck again. The trail tilts left in this area and I didn’t have time to build momentum and get away from the trees. I also don’t weigh enough to effectively lean the machine towards the trail. Neil, the plow driver, was nice enough to come back out and rescue me yet again. He ended up driving the snowmobile back home for me, which was an enormous relief.

After a second wind and rain storm, I knew better than to take the snowmobile out and instead did trail cleanup by snowshoe. I quickly hit another snag—my chainsaw wouldn’t run. It had gotten pretty gunked up after cutting through rotted logs and hitting mud, but no amount of cleaning could get it running. I ended up buying a second, bigger chainsaw, since my current one was a bit too small for the trees I needed to tackle. The new one worked wonders and I took care of six trees in twenty minutes.

We only got a few (glorious) runs in before a final rainstorm took out most of our snow. Now we’re in for a week of below freezing temperatures, leaving us with an icy trail that isn’t safe for anything unless we get more snow. The meteorologists amped us up for lake effect this past weekend, but it hit north and west of us while we got a dusting. Our next shot is Tuesday through Thursday. Cross your fingers!

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Here We Go!

A new season is upon us! It’s been a slow start, but that’s nothing new in the warm and humid northeast. I’ve got modest race plans for the team this fall and winter, with a bigger focus on just enjoying the trails with my dogs and loved ones.

Before dryland training even started, a number of races I had on the docket were canceled. I was hoping to finally attend Bristol in Canada, but it’s not happening this season (perhaps indefinitely?). The fall race in the NJ Pine Barrens was canceled due to park staffing problems. I really hope they get that sorted for the spring race—I love returning to where this all began.

There’s a few snow races I’d like to try and they inevitably choose the same weekend. If the past few winters taught me anything, it’s to keep options open, because more than half end up canceled anyway.

Our first event of the season will (hopefully!) be the Paws of Thunder dryland race in November, hosted by the Siberian Husky Club of the Niagara Frontier. We attended this one day, 2-heat race last fall and had a really fun time. I expect to be running in the 6-dog rig and 2-dog bikejor classes again. See you on the trails!

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Megavan

One of the most frequently asked questions I get is, “How do you transport so many dogs!?” And in my years of mushing, I’ve tried just about every method and wasn’t super pleased with any of them. I decided it was time to upgrade the dog-hauler. Well, I decided this last year, but it took exactly that long to come to fruition.

When I only had a small team, a regular SUV did the trick. I briefly tried a camper van conversion, but the van itself was old and unreliable. My next choice was the Ford Transit Connect—a little van with a big amount of space inside. I crammed eight crates into it and for a long time, it was ideal. I liked having the dogs inside with me while we made long trips (across the country and back!) and I could carry my Arctis cart on the hitch or my sled on the roof rack.

Then I moved to the north country, where AWD or 4WD is somewhat a necessity in the winter months. The team also grew and suddenly I had gear to tow. My little FTC wasn’t cut out for all this, so I (very quickly) purchased an F-150 and stuck a used wooden dog box on the back of it. In the United States, this is the standard method of dog transport for larger teams. I felt like a “real” musher, finally!

Except, if I’m honest, I didn’t love it. I felt disconnected from the dogs when we made long trips. The dogs themselves were apprehensive. Most of them never learned to jump out of the boxes into my arms—or onto ramps or step stools. I don’t blame them—pick-up trucks are freakin’ HUGE these days and with the box up on the bed rails, it was a heck of a leap. So, I solved the problem (and saved myself some backaches) by hauling around above-ground pool steps everywhere we went. Silly, yea, but it worked.

So I had the FTC for warm weather trips and the truck for mushing season travel. It worked OK, for a time, but then the dog box started to rot. Atlas also refused to be boxed. I had seven usable boxes, which left three dogs riding in the cab with me. At one point, Sagan pulled the wire grating off her box’s window and stuck her head out (thankfully while we were parked in my driveway). A lot of winter races would require the dogs to sleep unattended in parking lots. I didn’t trust my setup and it held me back from making trips to snow races last season.

After considering all my options, I took a hint from Euro mushers and started searching for full-sized, AWD vans. Spoiler alert, there aren’t many on the market. America is full of truck nuts, literally and figuratively. COVID also lead to global supply chain shortages, yada yada yada, and it was apparently cheaper to order a custom model directly from Ford than to buy a used one that didn’t quite fit my requirements. Game plan: build myself the mother of all dog-haulers that had all the things I liked about my FTC with the capabilities of the F-150.

A year later, the dealership who routed my order to Ford told me, “better luck next year” and I said fuck that. A van that nearly fit my specs, for roughly what I was expecting to pay, hit the market in Ohio. I sprung on it. It was finally happening.

Once the Megavan arrived, I yoinked out the second row seats (with some local help) and put down sound-dampening insulation. The ten Ruff Land crates that had been sitting in my barn finally found their permanent home, leaving plenty of space for gear and for a human to snooze. While it sat in my driveway awaiting registration paperwork, I found window covers, a bluetooth temperature gauge, all sorts of magnetic hooks, crate fans, and other little conveniences to make the van our home away from home.

I’m sure there will be more optimizations to come (I’m already thinking about a rear AC unit and a ladder) but for now, the Megavan is ready to roll. We took our first journey down to New Jersey earlier this month and I’m pretty damn pleased with my decision.

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Another Season in the Books

It feels like I was just writing last season’s wrap up post, probably because this season flew by without much snow and few steps towards our big goals. Looking on the bright side, there were some things we improved upon.

  1. We attended two training campouts this season. I returned to New Hampshire to run dogs with the North Country Mushers and we also camped here in NY with the Pennsylvania Sled Dog Club. Both events were great opportunities for the dogs to practice getting back into the swing of things: traveling in the truck, hanging out on the drop line, camping in the dog boxes, and most importantly, sharing the trails with other teams of dogs. Faye got acclimated to the experiences and she fit right in.

  2. We attended three races! After two seasons off from racing (COVID, lack of snow, and other complications), I was finally back in a bib behind the team. Our first race was a dryland fun run (Paws of Thunder) in western NY with the Siberian Husky Club of the Niagara Frontier. Next, we returned to the NJ Pine Barrens, where I first learned to mush, for the PSDC’s Jersey Devil Dryland Challenge. January and February rolled by with a disappointing lack of snow and an abundance of feeling crappy (I caught mono)—so we didn’t get any snow races in. We did return to NJ for the spring edition of the Jersey Devil Dryland Challenge and even managed a podium spot: 2nd place in the six dog pro class (and overall)! While it wasn’t the season I was hoping for, I’m proud of these dogs.

  3. Faye joined the team. Just as we welcomed Atlas last season, this season we had little Faye start running with us. She even ran in the short fun run class with Denali at the last race of our season. Although she’s the smallest member of the team, she’s very confident and smart, so I expect great things from her.

Photos by Andrew Comoletti

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Where's Winter Woes

If you're friends with me on any social media (or any mushers in general), you've probably heard how terrible this winter has been going, especially in the Northeast US. A week before Christmas, we did get over two feet of heavy, dense snow. Exciting, yes, but problematic. Grooming my home trail requires a bit of finesse, and with snow over two feet, the snowmobile kept tipping or getting stuck if I didn't go fast enough. So I mostly broke trail with dog power, which meant slow, exhausting runs. I also spent hours clearing snow from gates, garage doors, and the trailer. We only got a few sled runs in before our trip south (for Christmas) and a massive rain storm, which wrecked our snow anyway.

When I returned home, the trail was no longer safe to sled on. There were (and still are) trees and branches down all over. I've managed a few short runs with the ATV, but the ground is so saturated from snow melt and the near constant rain, every trip out deepens the already gnarly ruts.

The state forest received a bit more snow than we did, but after grooming, melt, freeze, and frequent use by snowmobilers, the base has gone down to only a few inches. A snow hook wouldn't hold a team by sled. I've been avoiding taking the ATV or rig there, fearing I would mess up what little base remained. It's also rough conditions for dogs' feet and joints during the early morning freezes.

Things aren't looking promising for our upcoming snow races. There's been little if any snow anywhere in this corner of the country. We did hit my target of 10 miles last month, but only once before the snow, the holidays, and the meltdown. I'm hopeful the state forest trail will be runnable with the ATV soon, so I can at least get us back to our pre-holiday mileage. There's no big snow in the long range forecast, only more rain and days in the 40s.

I wonder if the sled will see anymore action before spring. If this is the way things will be every winter, or if it’s just La Niña making things particularly bad. If I should move somewhere that’s strictly dryland, so I won’t have these frozen inbetween periods where I can’t run at all.

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False Starts and Setting Expectations

I've been mushing for over a decade now (whoa), and it feels like each season starts a little bit later and ends a little bit earlier. Moving five hours north from where I started seemed like a safe bet for a longer season, but even the North Country is seeing milder weather in the few short years I've been here.

The past two months have been a rollercoaster of high and low temperatures (on top of surgeries, illness, and other things that delayed our training). It's been really hard to find a consistent groove when it's regularly above 60 degrees, even first thing in the morning.

The thing is, climate change isn't going away, so we'll have to adapt. It's also hunting season, so I'm sticking pretty close to home with the team and avoiding the trails on weekends. And on days it’s too warm, we spend lots of time free running in the play yard.

Luckily, there have been a few events to keep us busy while hunters are out taking care of the love-drunk deer. I managed to attend both the Pennsylvania Sled Dog Club and North Country Mushers' training campouts. These are great opportunities to get the dogs back into the swing of things: sleeping in the dog boxes, hanging out on the picket line, eating on the road, and passing other teams on the trail. Thus, "Campout Octobers" will henceforth be our thing.

Usually, by November, temperatures are well below freezing in the morning and stay cold enough to run throughout the day. Not true so far this year, but I have a plan. Several new (or re-branded) dryland races have popped up, so November through early December will be our dryland race circuit. In previous years, I'd be trying to build our mileage this time of year, but the temperatures haven't been conducive to it. Instead, we'll work on consistency and maintaining decent speeds for shorter distances, with a very conservative goal of only five miles by the first weekend of December.

All our dryland races (Inverhuron—which I scratched due to temps, Paws of Thunder, North East Dryland Challenge, and Jersey Devil Dryland Challenge) fall under the five mile distance mark. The main goal is to have smooth runs and happy experiences, especially since so many of my dogs are new to racing this year.

After the Jersey Devil race in early December, we've got a few weeks off from events. Serendipitously, hunting season ends that same weekend, so we'll regain access to trails any time of day. And hopefully, by then, it will be cold enough to run any time of day. This is when we'll start building miles.

My overall season goal is still modest because shit happens and I’m going in with padded expectations. Ideally, I can get the team running 15 miles. If the snow gods cooperate, we'll ease into sled races with the six mile Frost Mountain race in Maine, followed by Lamoille's 11 mile open class in Vermont. Our snow season should wrap up with the wonderful Tug Hill Challenge, which is expected to have an ~11 mile open class as well. Both Lamoille and Tug Hill have the option for a shorter, 6-dog class, so we should be covered either way.

The wind is blowing fiercely outside and a cold front is coming in. Let’s hope it lasts.

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And Then There Were Ten (Again)

On July 13, 2022, I lost my boy, Knox to cancer. It was sudden and aggressive and terrible.

On July 13, 2022, Fate was born.

I had already been in touch with Lisa of Glacial Lake Kennel about potentially getting a puppy from one of her 2023 litters. It was mostly just putting feelers out—nothing set in stone. She already had a 2022 litter in the works with Bekka of Team Untamed, but they were all spoken for—at least, seven were.

And then eight puppies were born.

The theme was “The End is Ny” (mother’s name is Nymeria). Lisa and Bekka gave the pups apocalyptic names: Doom, Hellfire, Heathen, Brimstone, Prophecy, Inferno, Rapture, and… Fate. Unlike most breeders, Lisa doesn’t have folks pick their pups based on any order. Instead, she takes down details about the person and their goals for the pup, and she chooses who she thinks will be the best fit.

At around 8-weeks-old, Lisa and Bekka chose Fate to be my girl. Enter, Glacial Lake’s Untamed Fate: our newest team member. I will be calling her “Faye” for short and to stick with my science/space theme (Faye was a French astronomer and a crater on the moon is named for him).

I don’t particularly believe in fate, but I do think this girl is something special. Knox left a huge hole in my heart and this little black void might be able to help fill it.

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