Mush On

I may often complain about the icy cold, that somehow finds its way between the threads and seeps into my bones. And the darkness that seems to drag on forever. But balancing out that cold and dark, is the never ending beauty that is the landscape of Alaska.

The experience of trudging down to a snow covered frozen river, while fluffy white snowflakes drift down from the sky, to be part of a welcome team for one frost covered musher and his team of dogs as they cross the finish line in the Yukon Quest, is one of the experiences that my son, will come to think of as normal.

watching as the dogs crossed the finish line

Being able to get his hands on those worn out doggies, rub his glove covered fingers over their ice crusted faces, while whispering "good job doggies" in their ears, while spotlights illuminate the dark winter night, priceless.

After days of watching the online live tracker for the Yukon Quest, trying to find a musher that Wyatt would be awake for, the opportunity finally presented itself. I bundled him up and topped him off with his beaver fur hat, and we drove down to the river bank. The night was quiet, but a celebratory mood was spreading through the small crowd starting to form. We made our way down the steep trail to the banks of the Chena River, and found ourselves a spot, a front row view to watch Jodi Bailey, and her team of dogs, arrive home.

playing on a footbridge that overlooks the finish line while waiting for the musher to arrive

As she pulled in, to a crowd shouting and clapping, Wyatt quickly said "let's go!" and followed in behind her, in hot pursuit of the finish line himself. I quickly caught him by his hood, and redirected his little eager self around the other end of the gate. He stood just inches from the dogs, waiting, watching, before one of the handlers said, "go ahead, love on them!" And boy did he. Since it was so dark, my pictures aren't great. But he went from dog, to dog, stroking their heads and worn out bodies, leaning in and giving some of them hugs, for him it was magical.

Today, temperatures climbed to that tropical above zero mark. And I checked the tracker, just to see, since I knew the last four mushers were coming in today. One musher, was just 4 miles out. We bundled up again, this time inviting Daddy and Ben along, and headed down. This time around, Wyatt was the pro, he'd done this before. He showed Daddy the way down, scooting his little blue snow-suited bottom down the embankment, his hat slipping down over his eyes every few scoots. We waited and played, as once again that crystal like dust fell from the sky. When we heard "there he is" Wyatt quickly fell into place, his eyes transfixed as the dogs made their final approach.

The dogs tails wagged madly, high on the run and applause, and Wyatt shouted, "yay hamburgers!" as the handlers threw lumps of meat to the dogs. You could tell that they were quite happy to be within minutes of a nice long, well deserved, rest.




I like to think that we are lucky. Lucky to call this place our home; to experience the beauty and opportunity that this land presents; for our boys to see things that many kids will only read about... Lucky to be content, to live in a portrait of exquisite awesomeness that is our backyard, Alaska.