Her dogs, eager to keep ahead of the approaching team, bustled across with ease. Lainey glanced back to see Roman coming up to the bridge. She envied his assurance as he never wavered, letting his team pull him across without a second thought. Was she more cautious than he was? Or did he simply have the benefit of hearing Iditarod tales as he grew up?
In any case, he was here now, and she could either urge her dogs forward or let them run at their own pace. Lainey had to remind herself that the race was already won and she still had days to go before reaching the end. Risking her dogs now would do nothing but force her to scratch before Nome when they became too exhausted.
Keeping that firmly in mind, Lainey refused to become too disgruntled as Roman passed her with a grin. Much. Her trash talkers had other ideas, though, as they bitched and kvetched at Roman's dogs, who returned the favor with lots of swagger and tail wagging. She laughed at her team, proud of their attitude. "That's right, you tell them," she said.
The trail continued on the road for several miles. They followed it between two lakes and across a creek. There was some overflow here but nothing too dangerous. A decent breeze pushed through the area, causing small drifts that smoothed into the trail, but even that difficulty hardly slowed them.
Lainey passed Roman while he was snacking his dogs, and tried not to grin too impudently. They were evenly enough matched that he would pass her when she stopped to do the same.
Apparently the road followed switchbacks that the trail did not. Her team went off the road for a time only to return to it for a while longer, then repeated the procedure. In the dark it was a rude surprise to find herself suddenly in a ditch due to glacier like run off crossing the trail. A couple of times Lainey balanced on one runner to keep upright. A spiteful little voice hoped that Roman would have the same difficulties.
They passed a highway maintenance shed, though there was no way this road could be termed a highway, even without snow and ice covering the pavement. Providing there was pavement under the snow. The breeze was stronger here, but the treeline kept it to a minimum. It was not long before the trail climbed out of that meager protection.
Here the wind was stronger and had scrubbed parts of the trail clean. Lainey learned firsthand that the road was not paved as her teeth rattled from going over bare gravel. Rather than worry about Roman overtaking her, she now ran along with her team to lighten the weight of the sled, hoping the runners would survive the rough ride. She had spare plastic runners to replace the coverings that were shredding, but if the metal parts of the runners themselves were damaged . . . Lainey only had one other sled waiting at a checkpoint, her sprint sled at Unalakleet, and that was two hundred miles or more away.
The sled trundled along for some time, the occasional patch of remaining snow giving sharp contrast to the grating of the road and the wind pulling at Lainey's parka. Finally, the trail dipped back into the protected tree line, and snow once more carpeted the ground. Lainey breathed a sigh of relief.
She passed a sign, Mile Point 30. It would be time to stop soon. Lainey turned off her head lamp and looked behind her, not wanting to give Roman a chance to see her if she could help it. His lamp was nowhere in sight. Either he had dropped back or he had turned his lamp off for the same reason. Lainey grinned.
More signs, these indicating the trail where it ran through a summer village called Long. Everything was boarded up for the winter, but the buildings were well cared for, not like the aging Poorman she had passed outside of the last checkpoint. According to her notes, she was at the halfway point between Cripple and Ruby. If she went much further, she would be back into exposed wind and weather. Again she glanced back. Had Roman stopped for a rest break? Should she?
Outside of Long, Lainey pulled her team to the side of the trail. She turned on her head lamp to read her watch and was surprised to see she had only been out for four hours. She still had two more to go before reaching her recommended run / rest schedule. Two more hours would put her almost to Ruby. It would be ridiculous to rest then, knowing she only had twenty miles to the checkpoint.
Lainey snacked the dogs, giving them moose liver chunks which they snapped up as if starved. Then she returned to her sled to grab a bite for herself and think.
Scotch was at Ruby already. Lainey really needed to talk to her about increasing the fat intake of her dogs. Besides, she missed her. They had not been separated for this long since Lainey's arrival in June. It had been over twenty-four hours since Lainey had seen her. If she were to follow her original plan and camp out, she might miss Scotch in Ruby.
On the other hand, running the dogs on through might be a hardship for them. She had confidence they could handle the extra mileage, but worried that it would upset her carefully planned schedule. Why had she put a rest break here?
Lainey flipped through her notes. They were a combination of Scotch's trail notes blended with Thom's Iditarod days and Lainey's personal research. She sipped at a juice pack, absently nibbling at a frozen Twinkie in between pages. It took her a few minutes, but she finally located the reason she originally planned a full rest break.
When Thom had been running the race, the trail between Cripple and Ruby had been over a hundred miles long. For various reasons Lainey was not privy to, the trail had been altered a few years earlier, cutting that mileage to just over seventy. Scotch's notes showed a good place to camp out near Long, but Scotch also tended to blow through checkpoints and park away from people. Lainey had combined the older trail information with Scotch's camping spot, and assumed she would need to park before reaching Ruby.
She frowned at the bale of straw lashed to her sled. Damned if she could drop it out here for no reason; it would be the same as littering. She would look like ten kinds of fool bringing it into Ruby. Lainey blew out a breath. Oh, well, nothing to be done for it now. At least she could take the time to go over her sled runners and change them out if needed.
It was too early to feed the dogs, so Lainey gave them a second snacking instead. Then she began the process of unloading her sled in order to turn it on its side. A few minutes later, she was pleased to note that the sharp gravel had not done as much damage as she had thought. She chewed her lip, wondering if she should give the runners a good waxing before packing up again. Her team sprawled on the snow, some catching a quick nap and others watching her as if to ask, Are we staying or going?
If she stayed much longer, all her dogs would be sleeping. She would play hell waking them up. An interruption like that might cause them to give her trouble for disturbing their slumber. She set her sled upright and quickly packed it again, talking loudly to her team to keep them awake.
By the time she tied the straw back on, most of them were at least sitting up. Lainey went down the line, scratching, petting, and wrestling with them until even Bonaparte was ready to go. She returned to her sled, popped the snow hook, and called, "Let's go!"
They were back on the trail before she thought of Roman again. Where was he? Surely he would have passed her by now. Lainey turned to look behind her but saw nothing. Maybe he had had far more difficulties than she did on that stretch of gravel. Either that or he had the same outdated information she had and was holed up for a nap.
The dogs took her through a quiet little valley. With no sign of pursuit, Lainey's eyelids began to grow heavy. She yawned and forced herself to stand up straight. Now was not the time to snooze. Rummaging in her personal bag, she pulled out a fresh battery pack for her iPod. Soon she was dreaming on with Aerosmith.
After hitting mile post 18, she climbed a high ridge, maybe thirteen hundred feet in altitude. On the other side was a gradual downgrade. She was still on the road so overflow and ice was still a problem, making an easy run hazardous. The trail bottomed out and crossed a bridge before rising again. She went up and down hills with some regularity, always on the road. In some cases, her head lamp illuminated nothing to her right, indicating steep a drop off. She kept a wary eye on the trail at those points. An over
flow heading down hill could force her toward the edge before she knew what was happening.
At the top of the last hill, she realized she was at an intersection. Grinning, she could see lights in the distance. Ruby was just ahead. As the sled battled the icy road, she made out large square shapes on the side. At first she thought they were small buildings or tree trunks, but one was near enough that her head lamp lit it well. It was a sign, a crudely drawn picture of a dog team with a childish scrawl over the top - 'Welcome to Ruby Checkpoint, Iditarod Musher!'
Lainey laughed. Six hundred fifteen miles done, and only four hundred ninety-seven to go!
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
IT WAS THE wee hours of the morning when Lainey pulled to a stop beside the log community center. The check in procedure was quick and painless, though one of the volunteers wondered aloud why she had a straw bale with her.
"Weight training," she said. She was glad the skin of her face was chapped from the weather. At least her blush would not be readily apparent. "Is Scotch Fuller here?"
The checker, an amused expression on his face, looked over his clipboard. "Yeah, she is. She'll probably be getting ready to leave soon, though." "Thanks."
Lainey directed her dogs to the parking area and got them fed and bedded down on the straw from Cripple. After the longer run on this stretch, she planned on taking a full eight hour break here. There were two mandatory eight hour breaks; the next one would be on the other side of the Yukon at White Mountain. She had not planned on taking her mandatory here, though, so she had not notified the checker of her intent to stay a little longer than usual.
Her team comfortable, she grabbed up wet dog booties and gear and headed to the community center. Hopefully there would be someplace to dry at least some of this stuff before she had to head out.
Inside, her sinuses promptly clogged from the change of temperature, but not before she caught a whiff of delicious moose stew.
"Hey, hey! The prodigal rookie arrives!"
Lainey grinned and waved at Howry, but it was the sight of Scotch sitting beside him that caused her heart to beat a little faster.
Strauss was returning to the table with a cup of coffee and stopped to give her a one armed hug. "You can put your stuff in the back there," he said, nodding toward a mass of makeshift laundry lines dangling over a large stove, "and grab a bowl of stew and join us."
"Yes, boss," she said.
He chuckled. "Wow! You must be exhausted to be calling me 'boss'."
Lainey stuck her tongue out at him and slipped from under his arm.
After arranging her stuff to dry and getting food, she finally sank into the chair beside Scotch. She took the time to kick off her boots and liners, giving her feet a chance to air out, before applying herself to the stew.
"So, how's it going?" Strauss asked. "Any problems out there?"
"Not really. Bare ground is a bitch, but my runners are in better condition than I thought they'd be. I'm not so sure about Roman Spencer, though."
Scotch frowned at her. "Why?"
"Well, he was right behind me, but after we got out of the timber and onto the bald patches, I lost him." She looked at the door as it opened, but it was one of the veterinarians. "I took a pretty extensive stop to go over the sled. By all rights, he should have passed me and been here by now."
"Maybe he cracked his sled?" Howry suggested.
"Or his dogs balked," another musher said from further down the table. "I've had a team quit on me when the wind got too bad."
"It's possible." Scotch nursed her coffee. "How are the dogs?"
"Good." Lainey was surprised to realize her bowl was empty. She had not expected to be that hungry. "I might leave Heldig here, though. She's been tiptoeing through the snow too much and it's messing with her paws."
Scotch nodded. "Yeah, that sounds like Heldig. Has Bonaparte been giving you any trouble?"
"Nope. Not a lick."
A slight grin crossed Scotch's face. "Well, there's still time."
Lainey pursed her lips and raised her chin. "You know, just because he's given you trouble on the trail doesn't mean he'll do the same for me."
"Ah, yes. I remember how well he performed for you last month."
She frowned at the reminder. Bonaparte had decided it was time for a snack break during a training run. At the time, he had simply sat down between one step and the next, allowing the team to drag him a few feet before Lainey could halt them. She had been horrified at the sight of his limp body plowing through the snow, positive he had been killed in some freak accident. Closer examination showed him to be hale, healthy and alive, but he refused to run another step. Nothing Lainey did could force him to budge and she finally resorted to loading him into the sled to be towed home. Only upon her arrival, fearfully handing him over to Helen for an exam, did she discover that it was a regular trick of his when His Majesty decided he had run enough for one day.
Scotch grinned at her and Lainey smacked her on the leg with a scowl. If anything, Scotch's grin widened and she checked her watch. "It's about time for me to get ready."
As Scotch rose, Lainey did as well. "I'll walk with you. It's too warm in here." She pulled her boots back on and donned her parka while Scotch did the same. Soon they were back outdoors, and she sighed in relief. Who would have imagined she would be more comfortable in five degrees than a warm community center?
"This'll probably be the last time I see you before Nome," Scotch said as they crunched over snow.
"I know. I guess I'll just have to run a little faster to shorten the distance."
Scotch chuckled. "Yeah. You do that."
"There was something I wanted to ask you about the dogs." At Scotch's nod, Lainey said, "Roman said he was feeding his team three quarters of a pound of fat now and suggested I do the same. Is that something I should do?"
"Yeah, you can do that without harming them. As cold as it is this year, it might be beneficial over all. They'll burn it off keeping warm."
"Okay. I just wanted to double check before changing their diet."
"You didn't pack any extra in your food drops, did you?"
Lainey shook her head. "Nope. I hadn't planned on it. I took your list and cut down the amount you take for yourself, so I don't even have that."
"Well, the next checkpoint is Galena. They have a cafe there. If it's open when you arrive, you might be able to buy something from them. A few checkpoints after that is Unalakleet with a couple of stores."
"Yeah, I'll check into them when I get there." Lainey looked over the parking area as they got to Scotch's team. A few mushers were curled on their sleds or with their dogs. It looked like two more had arrived while she was inside, and they were in the final stages of settling their dogs. Neither of them were Roman. What had happened to him?
Scotch brought her back to the here and now by pulling her into an embrace. "Remember, it'll be easy running for the next few legs until you reach the coast. After that, be careful."
"Only if you'll be careful, too," Lainey said, snuggling close. "I have big plans for you in Nome."
"And I have plans for you," Scotch agreed. Her voice was rough from the weather, but the huskiness in her tone struck a chord in Lainey's heart.
With reluctance, Lainey released Scotch and stepped back. "Happy trails."
"Same to you."
Lainey dawdled for a bit, watching Scotch wake her dogs and prepare them for the trail. A yawn big enough to drop the Grand Canyon into reminded her she needed to sleep, and she regretfully shuffled away to her team. On her way there, she saw that Roman had finally arrived. He looked none the worse for wear, but he had his sled on its side and closely examined the runners. It looked like the bare gravel had done quite a number on them.
She yawned again as she reached her team. The dogs were all nestled in straw, bright green and yellow blankets draped over their motionless forms. Lainey walked down the line to check them and returned to her sled, satisfied. As she pulled out her sleeping bag, s
he looked up to wave at Scotch leaving the parking area.
Lainey doubted she would see Scotch again until she arrived in Nome, and she sighed. Best to not think about it. With any luck, she could get a good five hours sleep this morning. She climbed into her sleeping bag and got comfortable. In no time, she was fast asleep.
Regardless of the extra hour of rest, Lainey's eye still felt grainy when she left the checkpoint. Daylight was dawning but she kept her head lamp on for the time being. This was supposed to be another easy stretch. She regretted having to take it during the heat of the day, but it was either leave now or give Roman a chance to jump too far ahead. He was already getting his team ready to leave, only staying six hours despite the extra time he had taken to get here.
The trail followed the road out of town, but at the bottom of a hill took a right turn. From there, it dropped onto the Yukon river, a mile wide expanse of snow and ice. With all that room to maneuver, the trail breakers had made the way a straight shot as far as she could see.
She yawned. Her dogs trotted happily along, tails wagging. She was down to fourteen now, a decent showing for as many miles as they had traveled. Heldig remained at Ruby as a dropped dog, her paws too abraded to continue without causing further damage. She had barked and pulled on her chain as they left the checkpoint, wanting to stay with them. Because she had no other injuries, Lainey felt bad about leaving her.
Lainey drank a juice pack, her mood worsening in direct contrast to the rising sun.
She was tired, cranky, still stiff and sore from her tumble a couple of days earlier. Her rib ached from cold, exertion, and sleeping in contorted positions on her sled. She felt grimy and knew she stank something fierce, regardless of the shower she had been able to catch in McGrath. Ugh.
Who was she fooling, anyway? Sure, she was already past the halfway mark, but she still had over four hundred miles to go before reaching the finish line. What was the point? All this for a stupid magazine article? Strauss had not paid her nearly enough for this abuse.
Broken Trails Page 29
