Untitled
by D Jordan Redhawk
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Chapter Thirty-Three
The convoy left the break area behind, leaving bare tundra for thin forest and a gentle rise in altitude. Through the trees, Lainey spotted marshes and frozen ponds with large shaggy bushes dotting the area. She thought nothing of it as they went, until one of the bushes moved. Gasping, she narrowed her eyes and stared through passing branches and trunks. Those were buffalo! Her hands itched to grab her camera, but she knew the shot would be worthless with the woods getting in the way. Had she been alone, she might have stopped to get a decent shot.
Grunting, she frowned back at the trail.
They reached the peak of the saddle they climbed and dropped onto the other side with little trouble. For the next several miles, the trail narrowed, more rocks and dirt showing through sparse snow cover. Lainey was glad she had the foresight to not only change her sled runners, but have another set ready to replace these. Well marked in most places, the trail disappeared upon occasion as creek overflows had frozen into icy ponds. Egypt Mountain passed slowly to the right of her and the sky began to darken. The light was in that in-between stage where nothing stood out, so she donned and turned on her head lamp.
The ground leveled out and widened, and Lainey realized they were in a frozen swamp. Posted markers were few and far between, the trail pretty much useless in light of the wide expanse of ice to cover. Another issue was more overflow. She tsked under her breath as her dogs swept through a puddle of standing water. Heldig had no booties again. They would have to stop soon to take care of the animals.
Twilight faded to evening as the convoy made their way from swamp to lake. Lainey saw a red beacon flashing in the distance, and wondered where it was located. It seemed close, but out here, that meant little. She lost the beacon as she moved off the lake and into more forest.
The trail continued on this way for several miles. Lake followed forest, forest followed lake. The night was far from silent, however. Lainey grinned as she heard singing behind her. It sounded like Georgio or Roman was belting out 'Witchy Woman' at top volume. Her dogs' ears kept pricking back in curiosity and she giggled. Would her team think her insane if she joined in on the chorus?
Lainey barely noted the 'Dangerous Trail Conditions' sign before taking a sharp drop onto another lake. Other than that slight hiccup, there seemed no other risk. Had they already passed the Burn? From all she had read on the place, it was supposed to be worse than Dalzell Gorge and Happy Valley put together. Surely they had not gone through it yet. The woods and forests they traveled through showed no indication of fire damage. She was under the impression that even after two decades the area had not grown back much.
Ahead of her, she saw a head lamp coming closer. Odd. Why would someone be going back the way they came? She squinted until she realized it was Scotch standing beside her stopped sled.
"Whoa!" Lainey called abruptly. She eased onto the brake, and her leaders automatically pulled off the trail to one side. Once they were stopped, she put in her snow hook. "Snack time?" she asked.
"Yeah. The Burn is just ahead, and then we'll take a full rest break."
Lainey nodded, smiling in anticipation, and passed the message on. As she snacked her dogs on chunks of frozen moose liver, she was amazed at her lack of dread for the upcoming ordeal. Up until the gorge, Lainey had felt incredible trepidation at the physical challenges of the trail. Now she was almost eager to get to the confrontation, to accept the dangerous test of her abilities and win through regardless. It was somewhat reminiscent of stalking wild carnivores to get that one elusive photograph, not caring about the peril she suffered to achieve the shot.
She did a careful examination of her dogs, finding ice balls forming under a number of toes. Heldig's paws were getting worse, though she acted as if nothing was wrong with them. If she kept this up, Lainey would be forced to drop her in the next checkpoint or two. She was not looking forward to that. Realistically speaking, Lainey's chances of going the entire thousand miles without dropping a single dog were minimal, but it was a goal to aim for. She admonished Heldig yet again, and rubbed liniment into her pads before rebooting her.
Then it was time to go.
They slid into more woods on a slow rise. Lainey gasped in surprise as her team broke out onto a stark and barren landscape. Finally, the Farewell Burn.
The trail was a decent one. It weaved this way and that through clumps of brush, snow covered stumps and a few spindly tree husks spiking into the sky. Lainey thought of a movie, The Nightmare Before Christmas, and decided the Burn would be an apt place to film a live action version. All that was needed was an eerie old castle in the background and bats flitting about the night sky.
For all the hype, however, the Burn was mild in comparison to the obstacles Lainey had already faced. She felt a sense of disappointment as her team easily avoided a snag, wondering if this was all there was to the trail. As the miles went by, she began to think so. Disgruntled, she spent the time convincing herself that this was a good thing, that twenty plus years had gone a long way to making the trail easily accessible.
She resolved to throw out all the Iditarod books she had accumulated during her research, at least all of them older than the last five years.
The trail moved from one ridge to another. With no trees to block her view, Lainey suspected she could see ten or twenty miles in any direction. A dark shadow against the starry night sky indicated a far away mountain, a single light shining from its top. Looking behind her, she could see the three head lamps of the rest of her party. Miles back, she saw two other lights bobbing along - other mushers on the trail. She wondered who was behind them.
Eventually they dropped into a gulch, sheltered from the ever present wind. Lainey saw structures to her left, her head lamp illuminating what looked like a camp of some sort. There did not appear to be anyone occupying it, but snow machine tracks were fairly fresh. Depending on when it snowed last, someone could have been out here in the last couple of days or so.
Again the convoy came to a stop, those in the back pulling forward to fill the narrow gulch. The number of dogs and people gathered here felt slightly claustrophobic compared to the wide open spaces of the Burn. After Lainey got her dogs braked, she joined the mushers forming a group nearby. Owens was speaking as she approached.
"I'm thinking on heading over to the BLM cabin before calling it a night."
"That's what? Ten more miles?" Roman Spencer asked as he arrived at the palaver.
"Yup," Scotch stifled a yawn and looked at Lainey. "I believe I'll bed down here."
"Sounds like a plan," Lainey agreed.
Roman looked from one woman to the other, then to his father, uncertain which way to jump. Georgio gave Scotch a calculated glance as he fiddled with his icy beard. Lainey could see the gears turning as he gauged whether or not to stay with Scotch, keeping the competition close, or moving ahead with the hopes of beating her to the finish.
Waters, the last one in line trotted up to the group. "What's up? Why are we stopping?"
Georgio said, "Looks like we're splitting up." He slapped his son on the shoulder. "I'm heading to the cabin. These ladies are electing to remain here for a spell."
"Let's snack the dogs and get going then," Waters said.
They men broke away to tend their teams. Scotch grinned at Lainey. "Let's get the dogs closer to the tent camp before bedding them down; give them a bit more shelter."
"Okay."
By the time Lainey had her team situated and the cookers heating, she and Scotch were alone in the tiny gorge.
She worked through her chores on automatic. Her dogs were soon bedded down on their blankets, sated with food and water, and on their way to sleep.
Scotch had had them park so their sleds were together. It would mean struggling with Lainey's team to get them turned back down the trail, but it was ultimately worth the effort. They were within easy speaking distance and chatted to one another as they worked. When Lainey had her meal cooked, she went to Scotch's sled and sat beside her to eat.
"What do you have?"
"Meatloaf and potatoes," Lainey said, showing her bag. "What about you?"
"Moose stew."
"Hey! I didn't get any moose stew!" she complained.
Scotch chuckled at her, and received a forceful nudge that only made her laugh harder. "I have friends in low places," she said.
Lainey eyed her suspiciously. "And what does that mean?"
"It means that the cook at Rainy Pass Lodge passed me a couple of packages before I left."
She cursed, more for show than from any real heat. "Doesn't that violate the no help rule?"
"It wasn't help, it was a gift. Besides, I won't tell if you won't. And I know he won't." Scotch's smile faded into suspicion. "What are you thinking?"
Lainey wiggled her eyebrows. "I'm thinking you said he gave you a couple of packages. My silence has a price."
It took a moment for her words to sink in. When they did, Scotch groaned and rolled her eyes. "You've got to be kidding me! I only have one left."
Her smile was angelic.
Now Scotch cursed, though a smile teased the corners of her mouth. With a great show of frustration and petulance, she located the still frozen meal and handed it over.
Lainey squealed in mock joy and gave her a hug.
They returned to their meal, Lainey feeling warm and tingly inside. A flash of her cartoon self surrounded by little throbbing hearts crossed her mind, and she smirked into her meatloaf. Where the hell was that vision coming from? Would she be hallucinating animated creatures and people for the rest of the trip?
"How much further to Nikolai?" she asked.
"About forty miles. We'll get there in the morning, take another break."
Lainey's good humor drifted away. "You'll be moving on now, right?"
Scotch glanced sideways at her. "Yeah. I've been holding the dogs back from the speed they want to run. If the wind stays down, we'll make good time to the next checkpoint. Most of the trail is straight and easy to see. It's got some bad spots, but we're through the worst."
Forcing herself to business, Lainey said, "Well, don't wait for me, okay? Get out there and kick Spencer's butt." She grinned at Scotch's laugh.
"Only if you kick Spencer Junior's butt."
Lainey held out her hand, hooking it with Scotch's. "Deal."
"I expect we'll have company soon," Scotch said, balling up the remains of her meal. "Did you notice the lights behind us?"
"Yup. They're other mushers, right?"
"Uh huh. About ten miles back. I want to be sacked out before they get here. Give them less reason to stop and talk. Don't want to interrupt my beauty sleep."
Lainey took her cue and stood. "Honey, you could go without sleep for months and not need to worry about your beauty." She froze, eyes wide and a mittened hand covering her mouth, when she realized what she had said. Good God, why did she just blurt that out?
Scotch rose, laughing. "Thank you. And welcome to sleeplessness." She pulled Lainey's hand down, holding it in hers. "Better watch what you think, Lainey Hughes. You might say a whole lot of things you don't mean to in the coming days."
Her skin was hot from pleased embarrassment, and she was glad both that it was dark and Scotch's head lamp was turned off. "Sorry," she mumbled.
"I'm not." Scotch closed the distance between them and held her close for a long time.
When they separated, Lainey was less self-conscious. It was with some effort that she said good night and forced herself to her sled for a nap. As she settled into her sleeping bag, she grumbled under her breath, "Damn, why can't this race be over already?"
It was one in the morning when they prepared to leave the tent camp for the trail. The air was crisp with cold, and Lainey dug her face mask out of the sled before getting started. Despite the brisk chill penetrating even that protective barrier, her eyes were gummy and she could not stop yawning. The lack of sleep was beginning to get to her. She had to get to McGrath, the checkpoint after this one, to reach her scheduled twenty-four hour layover. Wearily stepping aboard the runners of her sled, she wondered if she would make it that far.
"Remember," she called ahead to Scotch. "Don't hold back for me, okay?"
Scotch waved acknowledgement. "See you in Nikolai."
Lainey returned the wave, and they were off.
The trail was a smooth and easy one, though still spooky with the ever-present fire damage. Lainey heard only her dogs panting, the swish of snow beneath the runners, the jingle of metal bits on the tow line, and her own heartbeat.
Scotch drew further and further away. For a while, Lainey's team tenaciously attempted to keep up, but soon slowed their pace to a more comfortable one. This disparity between the teams was expected. Scotch had the champions of the kennel and Lainey the second string. Any one of her dogs could have mustered for Scotch's team, but not all of them. She felt no resentment at having second best, either. Winning was never an option for her as it was for Scotch. Lainey looked fondly over her dogs. She would not part with any of them, not even Bonaparte who trotted along as if he were the only one on the line.
By the time she saw the sign for the BLM cabin, Scotch was completely gone from view. Lainey passed the turn off without stopping, wondering if the mushers they had traveled with were still there or had already gone on.
Her dogs ran, and her thoughts drifted. Daydreams of reaching Nome to the sound of cheers filled her mind, interspersed with visions of warming Scotch in her bed at the cabin. Or a private session at the hot springs. Lainey could almost taste her and licked her lips. She abruptly came back to reality when bits of fiber from her face mask met her tongue.
"Blech!"
She pulled the mask down to dislodge the lint from her lips. That finished, she bent over the sled bag and retrieved a warm juice pack from her cooler, draining it in minutes. Feeling slightly more awake, she stuffed the empty package into her sled and covered her face again.
The trail began to turn. Here and there, trees that had not met their demise in the Farewell Burn began to appear. Soon they were flickering around her as the trail led through them. Her thoughts began to float once more. As she enjoyed a particularly heated interlude with Scotch in front of the fireplace, the sled jerked, jolting her to the present as she grabbed the handlebars.
A blind turn had come up out of nowhere, Trace and Sholo easily bringing the team through it. Lainey's lack of preparation for the abrupt twist almost caused the sled to roll. Jonah, her wheel dog, spared her a single glance as if to ask what the hell she was doing before focusing back on his part of the job.
Adrenaline kicking in, Lainey's heart pounded at the unexpected obstacle. Her reflexes were slower from lack of sleep, and she watched her dogs take another sharp turn without understanding where they were going. By the time she arrived at the bend, she comprehended the problem and tried to compensate by leaning into the turn.
Too late.
The sled fell over, and she hung on for dear life as her dogs kept going. "Whoa!" she called before plowing into a snow drift. She shook snow from her face, glad she had the mask on to save her from getting a mouthful of the stuff. "Whoa!" The sled began to slow as the dogs did, but then there was a sudden mighty tug. It stopped so fast, that Lainey slid into the back of it with some force.
She lay there a moment, catching her breath. With slow, careful movements she peeled her hand from the handlebar and sat up. The sled was half on the trail, teetering on the snow bank she had just cut through. Snow covered her entire left side, and she began brushing it off, checking for damage to herself and her parka. Some had gotten into her sleeve and when she pulled off her hood, she felt the chill of it on her ear and neck. Grumbling, she cleaned herself up and attempted to stand.
Her knees were shaky and her ribs ached but other than that, she was in one piece. Now she looked at her team and saw why they had stopped so unexpectedly. When the sled had cut its furrow in the side of the trail, it continued in a straight line. The brush bow was lodged in a stand of young trees. It looked like the dogs tried to remain on the trail, but those on the left of the tug line were now in the timber instead of on the trail.
Lainey hastily moved forward to check the team, wincing as her muscles complained at the abuse. She first gave them all a cursory examination to make sure there were no life threatening issues like tangled neck lines or tree branches stabbing into them. Breathing a sigh of relief at the lack of such trauma, she took a closer look, treating each to an in-depth scrutiny as she massaged muscles and searched for bruising or bone damage. Tecumseh, one of her team dogs, whimpered as she checked him, and she hissed in concern. It looked like his harness had caused some bruising and one of his wrists was sore. His was the only injury, however, and she counted herself lucky.
The sled was not going anywhere soon, the brush bow thoroughly entangled with the trees and branches it had run into. First she had to get her dogs out of the mess. She snacked them first and then took each animal off the line, finding a tree to which to attach them. The first half of her string were in the clear, but partially blocking the trail. Lainey pulled Sholo and Trace to one side, the rest of the line following so that Montana, Meshindi, Bonaparte and Kaara were at least off the path. She tied Himitsu and Tecumseh to a tree on the other side, Chibee wriggled so much in excitement, Lainey was worried he would pick a fight with one of the others to rid himself of the excess energy. He got a tree all to himself and his running mate, Heldig, ended up with the previous two. Six more dogs later, the sled was divested of most its dog power.
Her trash talkers began bellowing, Lainey's early warning that someone was coming up on the trail. She grumbled to herself as she retrieved her axe. Perfect time for a gawker. Did people at car wrecks feel this way as traffic slowed to pass?
Other dogs answered hers, and soon a team pulled around the corner. The musher halted the dogs who playfully rolled in the snow to show off their superiority to her team. Drew Owens took off his goggles and looked at Lainey. She thought she detected a bit of concern at seeing her here in front of him.
"You all right?"
"Yeah, though one of the dogs might have gotten bruised."
He grimaced in commiseration. "Where's Scotch?"
"Up ahead. I lost sight of her before the BLM cabin." She felt a burble of amusement as his expression soured. "Where are the others?"
His lips twitched in a grin. "Probably just waking up."
"You skipped out on them," she said, smiling. "Impressive."
Owens gave a slight shrug. "They'll probably be along soon. You need any help?"
"No, I'm good." She gestured at the branches around the front of her sled. "I'll probably be back on the trail in twenty minutes."
"All right. See you at the next checkpoint." He put his goggles back on and ordered his dogs onward.
Lainey watched him go and turned back to the mess. Damned if she would still be out here when the rest of the convoy came through. She began cutting her sled free with a purpose.
Once she muscled the sled back onto the trail and hooked up her dogs again, she felt a little better. Tecumseh seemed to know his time was limited. When she released him from the tree, he immediately pulled her to his spot on the tug line, as if to say 'This is where I belong.' Lainey chewed her lip in debate, giving him another thorough massage. His shoulder was still an issue, but he was putting his full weight on his paws. Perhaps the damage was not as bad as she had initially surmised.
She decided to leave him there for the time being and keep a close eye on him.
Within minutes of getting started again, she arrived at Sullivan Creek. Open water rushed beneath a bridge and she urged the dogs across. From there the trail was easily marked by Scotch and Owens going before her. As she went, her head lamp picked up few markers, and she felt a guilty relief that she was not leading this traveling party. She would have gotten lost a number of times on this stretch of trail alone. What would happen when she truly was alone?
Tecumseh seemed to be doing well enough. He was not pulling with his usual alacrity, but at least he showed no limp. Considering how Lainey felt after the crash, she supposed he had worked his injuries out. After the exercise of chopping wood, Lainey's stiffness from the accident had eased, though her ribs still ached. She twisted a bit, wincing at the pain. It must have been a full ten minutes later that her lethargic brain remembered hand warmers for her side and ibuprofen for pain. Cursing at her stupidity, she got another juice pack and downed some pills.
She came upon the first manmade structures she had seen since the tent camp. The trail led up through the small cluster of buildings, leaving the river. To keep herself awake, she fumbled for her notes, squinting at the writing with her head lamp. By the time she located the name of the place, she was past. Salmon River fish camp. Twelve miles of smooth sailing to go.
From here the trail was easily seen. Despite her attempt to remain vigilant and not have a recurrence of her crack up, she drifted again. Feather beds, steak dinners, romantic candlelight and roaring fires teased the edges of her mind as she went.
A passing branch snagged at her parka, startling her back to reality.
"Ugh!" she yelled, frustrated with her inability to sleep warring with her desperate need to remain awake. "What the hell am I doing out here?"
The dogs barely gave her a glance, loping along with ease. Tecumseh's line was slack, but he continued to run with his mates. Her head lamp illuminated the beauty of the wilderness around her. The sky held a brilliant cacophony of silent stars occasionally interspersed with sheets of greens and blues and reds of the aurora.
She soaked in her surroundings, drawing the solitude and beauty into her soul. At first she had come here to understand Scotch, to discover the root of that confidence, to unearth the reason for her inexplicable draw to the woman. She had remained because of friendship and family - both human and canine - and a growing love for her surroundings and activities. She had come to the Iditarod as a rookie, a reporter doing a story, nothing more. But her time at the kennel, in the presence of Scotch and the dogs, had taught her more than how to mush.
Lainey was here for herself and no one else. The magazine would never get as much out of the articles as she would for simply experiencing and defeating the challenges before her. She not only knew what caused Scotch's confident bearing, she wanted that self-assurance for herself. Loving Scotch was easy for her, and she did not know if her feelings were returned. Should their relationship escalate beyond a bit of slap and tickle Lainey wanted to be on equal footing, not because she expected Scotch to look down on her, but because Lainey would look down upon herself.
The trail slid off the straight and narrow onto the Kuskokwim River. Markers were a bit more difficult to locate, but Lainey pleased herself with keeping on track. In a few short miles, she pulled into the village of Nikolai.