My wife and I went out mtn bike riding today in the white mountains north of Fairbanks (AK) today. Beautiful clear day at -9 F. Trails were great. We were on our way back from a remote cabin and ran into a dog musher on the trail coming at us. No big deal, happens all the time. I yell to my wife to clear the trail so they can pass. Musher passes and we exchange hello’s in the brief passing.
We keep riding towards the road to get back to our car and think nothing again of our passing with the dogteam. Well about 20 minutes later I hear my wife yelling to me from behind and I turn to see a dogteam upon her with no one a the helm. She is able to snag the anchor line they are dragging and I race back to help control the frenzy. I see that there are few small willow branches tied to the line and it becomes clear as to what has befallen the dear musher.
After we tie the dogteam (6 dogs) off to a huge tree (2-1/2’’ diameter) and getting them calm, I then head back north to find said musher. After about 1-1/2 mile down the trail I meet up with Joe and he calmly asks me if I have seen his dogteam. I calmly reply that I have but can he itentify them. He laughs. Typical of most Alaskans, he is calm as can be and you would think he was out for a stroll in the backcountry with not a care in the world. I chat and walk with him for a bit and tell him his faithful companions are secure down the trail under the watchful eye of my now freezing wife.
I ride back to let my wife know all is well and musher will be along in 20 minutes or so. The dogs have finally calmed down when I get back and wait for Joe to arrive. Joe explains that he tied off his team for a minute and when he turned and looked they were merrily on there way down the trail hauling a few willow branches and the brake line that was set in the snow. All is well when Joe gets back to the team and we bid our farewells.
I can’t help but think if we were not there to stop the dogs. They would probably be halfway to the Arctic Circle by now. There is not much activity in the mountains north of Fairbanks and most people who head out in that direction are well aware they need to fend for themselves. Joe would have had only had a 5 mile walk back to the road so it would not have been epic. I guess unless his truck keys were in the sled bag. Then he would have been screwed.
Thought I would share a good story instead of posting something about some retired cyclist tapering for his first marathon.