It's Raining Elk

The first run on snow always feels like a bit of a production. For me various feelings conflict within: the joy of finally getting these snow dogs on snow, the excitement of a fast run, the anticipation of the unexpected, and the fear of crashing or worse, losing the team.
Today was our first snow run. I’ve had a few modifications done on my super flexible toboggan sled, and I was anxious to get this first run under my belt. I needed to feel how much or not that the sled handling had changed, to test the new dogs, and to see if my shoulder had recovered from the spectacular crash at the Fall Rig Rondy in Roslyn enough to handle the sled efficiently to take a passenger tomorrow.
Gone is the confidence of a big heavy machine, where one sets a brake and hooks up, and the worst that the dogs do is drag it a bit. Gone is the confidence of a big machine to steer into corners, and having complete braking control coming down hills. Now I use two quick release lines to attach the sled to my truck. (I used to use one quick release until one hook-up the dogs popped it, and took off without me) and still I always feel a certain amount of trepidation when the dogs start to slam into their harnesses at hook-up and the sled is bounced from side to side, hoping that the lines attaching it to the truck hold.
Today things went very smoothly, hook up was without event, and before I knew it the shrieking stopped and all that broke the silence was the swish of runners on the snow and the panting of the dogs as they loped along. ‘Ok, I remember this’ I thought with a grin, as I called the first gee and we went flying down the hill. Hilda is great, running in single lead taking each turn like the veteran she is. But what is surprising me is that Chip is also taking those turns as I call them, only he is running in point with River, and this effectively steers the team. The snow is punchy and warm today, true coast snow, not the champagne powder that the interior boasts of. I could also see the benefits of the 200+ ATV miles that the dogs have on them as they charged up the hills, with no assistance from me. Using the drag brake was a bit of a challenge, as it built up gigantic snowballs under it that required kicking at constantly to clear.The sky felt very close as the wet snow falling eventually turned to rain, but I was having so much fun enjoying this nice little team that I decided to head up one of the hills again, but backwards this time, you know…just cause! Chugging up the hill at a nice steady trot, I had just pulled a dry pair of gloves out of my pocket, and was struggling a bit to get a wet hand into a cloth glove when suddenly I felt like Chicken Little as just in front of the team the sky fell in. Or so it seemed.
Out of nowhere, suddenly this large bull elk crashed down onto the trail, no more than 10-12 feet in front of Hilda, and stopped dead in his tracks. I don’t know who was more astonished, the bull elk, me, or the dogs. What happened next occurred in split seconds. I stomped both feet on my brake, the dogs lunged forward, I screamed “ON BY” and then the bull elk leaped over the edge of the embankment. In praise of an amazing lead dog, Hilda merely glanced to her right and then put her head down and charged forwards. Chip and Impi, both on the left side of the line in also followed Hilda’s lead and charged forwards, while Jovo and Stryder in wheel, and River and Ellie all lunged to the right as to follow over the embankment after the elk. Hilda, Chip and Impi hauled the entire team up the hill, and as my sled passed the tracks I was quite horrified to see the steep drop off that the team could have plunged over. What an adrenaline rush!

What a leader!