Broken Trails

by D. Jordan Redhawk

  As she worked, she speculated on how the race was progressing. She had arrived thirty-five out of seventy-six, and Owens had left immediately after his veterinarian check. The other musher had remained at Finger Lake. That meant that at her last rest break, at least twenty mushers had gone through Yentna Station while she took a break. Scotch had started the race an hour and thirty-six minutes behind her and now was an hour back, maybe less. Lainey checked her watch and noted the time. It would not be long before Scotch arrived, at that rate.

  She tried not to feel disheartened by her fall in the standings. The reality was that it really did not matter who was where unless you were at the front of the pack, and even that membership would change as the days crawled past. It was a rare thing for the first musher reaching the halfway point at Cripple checkpoint to actually come in first in Nome. By the time Lainey reached Cripple, the mushers would be settled into the front, middle or rear of the pack for the remainder of the race. Between now and then, accidents could happen - gear could irreplaceably break down, kennel cough could sicken the dogs, and Mother Nature could intervene to cause even the hardiest of souls to scratch. She reminded herself that though she was falling back, her goal was not to win but to complete the race.

  As Lainey ate, three more mushers went by, nodding or calling a greeting as they went. Veterans all, she wondered if they had rested at Finger Lake or avoided the crowds like herself. She packed up the tin foil from her breakfast, drank another fruit drink, and devoured a piece of carrot cake. Then she pulled her arctic sleeping bag from the sled. She had about four hours to nap before getting the dogs ready to go.

  Another musher came up before Lainey got into her sleeping bag. She smiled in welcome as Scotch drove past and pulled in front of her. Foregoing her nap, Lainey walked up the line to greet her friend.

  "Hey, you're early."

  Scotch set her snow hook and wrapped Lainey in an embrace. "Had to catch up to you. I needed a hug."

  Lainey laughed and returned the squeeze. "Always glad to oblige." She sighed, eyes closed. Sometime over the next couple of days, Scotch would go beyond Lainey if her luck held. For now, she welcomed what intimacy she could get.

  "I'd better snack these guys," Scotch murmured, obviously not wanting to release her.

  Looking at the expectant team, Lainey chuckled. "Yeah, you'd better." She forced herself away to allow her friend to begin her tasks.

  They spent the next half hour discussing what was behind them. Scotch had not had the misfortune of breaking trail toward Finger Lake. She had traveled in a pack of four who had apparently followed another front runner. The snow had stopped falling, as well, so no new accumulation had piled up to impede their way. Don had been awake for her arrival, and sent greetings to Lainey along with a message that several reporters wanted to interview her in Nikolai.

  "I'm supposed to do the interviews, not be their subject," she grumbled.

  "That's the price you pay for fame," Scotch said airily. She ducked a snowball thrown in her direction. "Ah, ah, ah. None of that. We need to conserve our energy for Rainy Pass."

  Lainey saluted. "Yes, ma'am."

  "Best get some sleep while you can. You'll need it."

  "I know." Lainey stood and gave Scotch another hug. "I'm glad you're out here with me."

  Scotch grinned. "Ditto that."

  The beep on her watch was more than irritating in the silence, and Lainey forced herself awake to shut the damned thing off. At some point, daylight had arrived, and she dragged herself out into it with a lurch. Muscles and joints creaked in protest, and she quickly donned her gloves and boots to retain sleep warmth. The most annoying thing was her bladder demanding release. She grabbed a roll of toilet paper and trudged away from the trail and sleds for a bit of privacy. Baring her hind end to the cold woke her up further, and she grumped in complaint, wondering if any woman had tried to use a catheter in the race before. She was not sure if the discomfort would outweigh the sharp bite of frost on her ass.

  Her private call answered, she returned to the sled, pausing a moment to see Scotch's knit cap poking out the top of her sleeping bag. A fond smile curved her lips, her mind's eye supplying the vision of Scotch in her sleep shorts last summer, thighs and belly bare to her wandering gaze. The thought of arriving in Nome to finally succumb to Scotch's touch caused her chest to ache and her blood to rush to points south.

  Lainey shook herself as a team appeared from around a bend in the path. She waved as the musher passed, hearing only the gentle tinkle of gear and panting as they slid along. It was time to get things together.

  Since she and Scotch planned on going through the pass jointly, she had another hour before waking her dogs. Lainey would delay her time out to put them together for the worst of the next thirty miles. She returned to her sled, and began the process of packing up the gear she would not need for the rest of the break.

  Eventually another watch beeped in demand, and Lainey smiled when she heard the muttered curses from the sled in front of her. It was good to know she was not the only one beginning to tire on the second day of the race. She started the cookers in considerably better humor as Scotch stumbled away to heed her bladder. By the time her friend had returned, coffee was brewed in Lainey's thermos and she began the process of waking her dogs.

  They worked independently, their silence punctuated by praise voiced to their teams and the occasional bark or snort from a dog. When another team passed by, half of Lainey's dogs gave voice, not just her usual trash talkers, eager to get back on the trail. Scotch's team echoed the sentiment.

  Once they were both ready, Scotch approached Lainey. Her eyes were a bit bloodshot, but she looked as enthusiastic as the dogs. "You about ready?"

  "Yep," Lainey said, closing her sled bag. "You?"

  "As ever."

  Lainey wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "I've heard that about you."

  She feigned indignation. "Who's been talking?"

  "Your dogs."

  Scotch laughed. "Well, at least I'm not the only one."

  Lainey grimaced and looked down the gang line. "Traitors."

  Returning to business, Scotch said, "All right. You remember what was said at the mushers' meeting about Rainy Pass?"

  "Steep descent, two switchbacks."

  "Yeah. There'll be no stopping until you get to the bottom, so hang on tight. Pay attention to trail markers so you don't miss the switchbacks."

  Lainey felt a shiver of dread. If she could get through the next day or so, the rest of the race would be a cake walk. She nodded understanding, wondering if her dogs were rested enough. If they did not run as fast as the sled, they may be injured. Scotch had kept on speaking, and she forced herself back to the lecture.

  "It's just like the switchbacks back home, only a steeper incline. Half of your team has already been through here; the others are at least used to the sudden turns. Remember to stand on one runner or the other to distribute the weight on the turns." Scotch broke off with a smile. "And don't worry. You've got a great team, and you're a great musher. I'll wait at the bottom for you."

  Spirits somewhat buoyed, Lainey squared her shoulders. "Just get out of the trail when you do, okay?"

  Scotch chuckled and stepped forward for another hug. "For luck."

  Lainey held her tight, suddenly thinking she had made a mistake in going into this sled dog race.

  "Nome or bust."

  The confidence Scotch felt for her seeped through her trepidation. They had a date in Nome, and Lainey intended to get there on her own steam rather than in a plane. "Nome or bust."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  THE TRAIL TWISTED back and forth upon itself as it climbed. Despite the heavy snows reported in the area and the many mushers having gone before them, the path was a rough one with tree roots and beaver jams threatening to upset the sleds. Crowded with timber and brush, Lainey ducked a number of times to keep away from sweepers. Yellow caution tape fluttered everywhere as various dangers were flagge
d by the Iditarod trail committee. Regardless of their attempt to carve a decent trail from the mess, Lainey's sled bucked and rattled as it went, the vibrations in her palms tingling unpleasantly.

  Her team well rested, they held good speed as they followed Scotch's sled up and up and up. They broke through the trees for a bit, cresting and following a five thousand foot ridge. The scene was spectacular, and Lainey stared in awe at the wilderness before her until forest blocked her view. She forced her attention back to the trail. There was no time to gawk, not if she wanted to get through this leg of the journey in one piece.

  Up ahead, Scotch stopped her dogs, raising her hand to signal Lainey to do the same. Swallowing hard, Lainey called her team to a halt. Her eyes widened when a stranger appeared out of the trees to talk to Scotch. Who the hell was that? They were ten miles from Finger Lake, and the man's jacket looked too new and pristine to be a musher.

  Scotch spoke a few words with him and shook his hand. He bowed a couple of times as they talked. She tied off her snub line and walked back down the trail, the man returning into the trees.

  "Who was that?" Lainey asked.

  "A Japanese reporter. Said his name was Tatsuya something," Scotch said. "He has a few of his colleagues on the other side of the canyon taping mushers as they go down this side."

  "Great," Lainey said, her tone sarcastic. "So when I roll down the canyon, everyone in Japan will have a laugh like 'America's Funniest Videos'."

  Scotch smiled. "You won't roll. He said there have been a couple of close calls, but the cliff edges are well marked. You ready?"

  Not liking the thought of cliff edges, Lainey nevertheless nodded. "Yeah. Let's get this over with before I faint from terror."

  "You'll be fine." Scotch squeezed her shoulder, her eyes intently staring into Lainey's. "We're going to fly down that canyon and hit the bottom in less than three minutes. You won't have time to be scared before it'll be over with."

  Lainey blew out a breath. "Let's do it."

  Scotch stared a moment longer, gauging Lainey's emotions. Lainey raised her chin and leveled a calm gaze back at her. Scotch smiled and released her shoulder, returning to her team.

  When Scotch's back was turned, Lainey tried not to hyperventilate. She gnawed her lower lip, nervously eying the dogs. They appeared oblivious of their mistress' anguish, tails wagging as they awaited their commands. Lainey reached down and prepared to pull her snow hook, knowing she had to stow it securely. If the trail down was as rough as the trail up, she did not need a sharp pointed instrument bouncing around.

  Up ahead, Scotch released her snub line and hook. Lainey clearly heard her voice as she ordered the dogs forward. They traveled no more than thirty feet before disappearing over the ridge.

  Hands shaking, Lainey pulled out her watch, wanting to give Scotch a full minute head start. When the second hand clicked past the point of no return, she forced herself to release the snow hook. "Ready. Let's go!" she called with more bravado than she thought possible. Sholo and Trace, who was back in the lead after their rest break, surged forward.

  When they reached the place where Scotch had vanished, the dogs dropped down onto the trail. Lainey's stomach swooped with the sudden altitude change and she held her handlebars with a death grip. Her team ran full tilt, Jonah and Samson looking more like woolly bears attempting to evade the sled than pulling wheel dogs. Lainey's feet left the runners, at first standing on the drag mat between them. When that did not slow the sled enough, she stomped on the brake bar, the metal digging ruts into the trail. The sled no longer threatened to overrun her team, but still rushed down the trail.

  Yellow caution tape here looked more like a spider web than anything else, though she hardly registered it as she flew along. Ahead of her it looked like the trail simply stopped, a makeshift fence of logs and tape pretending to be a dead end. Lainey's mind was numb, her eyes wide as they careened toward the barrier.

  "Haw!" she bellowed, and her leaders took the first switchback.

  Standing on the brakes seemed to help. At least her first wheel dogs did not appear to be in danger of imminent crushing. It did not slow her enough, however, and she screwed her eyes nearly closed as she approached the jury-rigged barrier at breakneck speed. At the proper moment, she leapt to her left runner, pulling with all her might to compensate for the whiplash effect. Then she was on the next section of trail. She felt a fleeting moment of relief before jumping back onto the brake bar. Fifty yards ahead, another dead end appeared. This one seemed a little less dangerous if the sparser amount of caution tape was any indication, but Lainey knew from her notes that the cliff on the other side was still a fifty foot drop. Her leaders arrived at the turn.

  "Gee!"

  They took the turn with smooth precision, and she felt a burble of pleasure at their elegance before preparing for her part of the journey. She hopped onto the right runner and pulled. The sled tipped left, despite her counter balance, and she felt a moment of sheer terror as the runner she stood on lifted off the trail.

  She was through the turn and the sled thumped back to the ground. Heart in her throat, she swore a blue streak for the next fifty yards. The next bend came and she ordered the turn, easily negotiating it until she came onto a somewhat level surface.

  "Whoa!" she called, seeing Scotch ahead waiting for her. As soon as her dogs came to a halt, Lainey gratefully set the snow hook. She took two steps away from her sled, her knees trembling from a combination of exertion and adrenaline, and flopped into a snow bank.

  Scotch laughed and whooped. She trotted up to Lainey and grabbed her hands, forcing her back to her feet. "You did it! I told you!"

  Lainey's fear faded, replaced with a flush of pride and exhilaration as Scotch hugged her. "I almost lost it on the second turn," she admitted. She looked back up the side of the canyon, awed by the height she had just traversed at breakneck speeds. "My runner left the trail completely. I thought for sure I was going to tip over."

  Cuffing Lainey's shoulder, Scotch released her. "You didn't balance the load when you packed it, did you?"

  No matter how hard she tried, Lainey could not feel chagrin at her mistake. She had taken on the Happy River descent and survived! Her grin was cheeky as she said, "Nope. But it's a lesson learned!"

  "Yeah, I'll bet." Scotch stepped back. "Let's snack the dogs and get out of here. Someone could be right behind us, and there's no room to get off the trail until Puntilla Lake."

  "Yes, coach."

  The dogs were still well rested from their break. As Lainey fed them moose liver, they frisked in the snow, picking up her excitement as she showered them with praise. She paused only long enough to get her camera out and take a few pictures of the canyon wall. Then they were ready to go.

  They mushed along, following the Yentna River. The river had not frozen solid here, and Lainey could see standing water on the ice as well as running water through occasional gaps. She wondered if anyone had fallen in, but saw no sled tracks near the holes. She supposed it happened sometimes, though not so far today. Lainey shivered in sympathy with anyone suffering such a fate.

  The trail began to climb again, the hill to her right steepening until they traversed a narrow ridge. Ahead she saw Scotch apparently leaning on her right runner as they went around a corner, and she followed suit. The path tilted down to Lainey's left, rising above open water on the river, and she compensated for the angle. Regardless, she felt a faint tremor of movement sideways and she called frantically to her team, "Let's go! Let's go!"

  Her team put on a burst of speed, loping across what Lainey now realized was a twenty foot ridge of ice. Before her sled could slide off the path, the dogs had her past the danger. For second time in an hour, she gripped her handlebars in an effort to remain standing. Good God, what would the Farewell Burn be like?

  Lainey drew herself back to the task at hand, seeing the trail incline sharply. In reaction to the extreme climb, her team slowed, and she forced her shaking legs from the runners. The
exercise helped burn off the excess adrenaline, and soon her legs were steady as she pushed the sled up Happy Hill. It was with great relief that they reached the peak and came onto a level path.

  She breathed a sigh as the trail broke into a meadow for a short bit. It seemed she had been running forever, but the trail between checkpoints was only thirty miles distant. Before Lainey could become too complacent, however, she watched Scotch disappear into another steep descent.

  More caution signs met her gaze as she dipped down. The trail twisted back and forth, but no switchbacks were forthcoming. She easily held the sled back on the sharp slope, her dogs running easy and heeding her commands as they went. At the bottom of the descent, she came out along Puntilla Lake.

  The wide expanse of level ground elated Lainey. The worst of this leg was over. It was smooth sailing to Rainy Pass Lodge from here. To celebrate, Scotch had pulled off the well-marked trail to snack her dogs.

  When Lainey stopped, Scotch walked back to her, a wide grin on her face. "Take off your cap," she said.

  "What?" Lainey removed her musher's cap. "Why?"

  "This is from Mom." Scotch held up a knit stocking hat of bright green. On it was a huge yellow smiley face wearing its own musher's cap, the flaps dangling on either side. The words written beside the face proudly proclaimed 'I Survived Happy River.' Scotch pulled it onto Lainey's head until it covered her ears.

  Lainey laughed, dragging it off her head to get a better look. "That's priceless! Where did she get it?"

  Scotch shrugged. "Don't know. But she wanted me to put it in my food drop so I could give it to you after you made it through."

  She put the hat back on, and stuck her musher cap into her personal bag. "Thanks."