Snowhook Kennel

200 Miles to go before I Sleep: The Aftermath of Snowhook's Don Bowers Memorial Sled Dog Race

2012-01-29T20:29:00.002-09:00

Let sleeping mushers lie

Serving as a pillow for AJ's weary head, Tenzing offers AJ some much needed and well deserved rest after winning the Don Bowers Memorial Sled Dog Race.

This isn't the first of post-race photos involving Tenzing and AJ crashed on the couch, and it's not likely to be the last.

In this Corner, Weighing 200 Pounds we have...: A Moosely Encounter

2012-01-16T22:34:00.004-09:00

By Rebecca H. Savidis

At six-feet-four, he will hardly ever be classified as a featherweight, but with each stride, he was charging into the ring with a heavyweight ---and he knew it. David meet Goliath, Rocky your Apollo.

The final two miles of the eighty mile run brought a mental debrief of the day’s run distracting him from the frigid, well below zero temperatures that had crept into his arctic wear many miles before.

As he thought of who had done well, who might make the Iditarod team, and who, of the yearlings were still learning, the night’s black and blue winter landscape of the trail ahead began to move. Emerging from a tree well, the long, spindly legs of the young, male moose stepped into the middle of the dog team. Kicking, stomping. Growling, barking. Chaos.

High snowfall this season has led to moose seeking easier footing on local trails. With nothing more than bravado and bluff by moose, the team has been charged and chased several times this season. Yet, this, this was backing to the bluff

As with car accidents, time divided. The mêlée yards down the trail occurred faster and faster---the moose would strike out, the dogs would respond in a like manner. Time between the runners of the sled and the tangle of the dogs and moose slowed. AJ set the hook and bounded for the front of the team with no weapon, no means to defend the dogs or himself. Man this is stupid. I should have grabbed my axe---A realization that hit as he neared the tangle of canine and moose. Too late.

He could not call the moose off the dogs, nor the dogs off the moose. The moose would not lose its focus on the mutts and chase the musher---his intent---better him than the dogs. Rebecca would understand injury and harm to him, but to the dogs?---unacceptable.

Turning to the dogs in front of it and then to the dogs behind it, the moose continued to kick and stomp. Holding their own against the unwelcome addition to the team, the moose turned to address the barking, snarling dogs facing down trail, presenting his flank to the oncoming musher. Without thought, he used the only defense he had. Himself. He rushed the moose and pushed the flank of the 800 pound hazard with every ounce of his two hundred pounds. Toppling over, the moose was now out of the dogs.

Fight finally gave way to flight. Running back to the sled, he pulled the hook before the moose could right himself and continue to do further damage. As the snarl of dogs started into their sprint, the only dog free of the tangle ran wide around the moose, including their assailant in the jumbled mass and dragging it for several yards before it finally cleared the sled and was free.

Several feet down the trail, he stopped to check the dogs ---all uninjured, and happy with wagging tails,---he untangled the tangle, his heart rate returning to normal as he did so. Keeping a watchful eye on the disoriented moose up the trail---he would be damned if there would be a round two---he saw the black and blue landscape move again as the moose returned to his tree well.

Stormy Kromer Annouces the 2012 Living Legend

2012-01-09T19:55:00.005-09:00

“Stormy Kromer announced the winner of the Living Legend contest today.”

"Oh, yeah?”

“And, you didn’t win.” Many bandages are best removed quickly. AJ never tells me something will be alright when he knows it won’t, he never tries to delay certain disappoint. I've always appreciated that about him and so decided to return the favor. “Are you disappointed?”

“No, I’m sure the most deserving person won.” I wonder if he knew there was a bandage involved at all. “Besides I think that the nomination is based on an image of me that you’ve shared that is not accurate.” He smiles, the lines creasing at the corners of his eyes. I like seeing those lines.

“No, I try to tell people that you’re hideous looking and a horrible person, but no one believes me.”

***

Stormy Kromer announced the winner of their 2012 Living Legend contest. Congratulations to the winner, Jim Dehlin!

Thank you to all of you who voted faithfully for AJ and a special thanks to Melanie (MM) for thinking so much of AJ to nominate him as a Living Legend in the first place.

-RHS

2012 Snowhook Kennel Calendar---Order yours today!

2012-01-01T22:42:00.002-09:00

There was talk of AJ in a hunky musher calendar. Just talk. And when he heard of this talk, his response was twofold. To the idea of the calendar in theory he said, "Not going to happen," and when Rebecca assured him she had nothing to do with initiating the talk he questioned, "Why not?" Boy, is he hard to please.

Because our model is unwilling, Snowhook's 2012 calendar includes pictures of dogs, pups, and life on the trail. The calendars are available now.

Click here to order your Snowhook Calendar today! (quantities are limited)

'AJ Moments' aren't the only thing that are legendary

2011-11-18T20:50:00.002-09:00

I know some things for sure, two of which are: A girl should never leave home without her Stormy Kromer hat, and AJ sure is something---I’ve suspected as much about AJ for quite some time--- yet to find that others think the same of him is more than a pleasant surprise. It is an honor.

Friends of the Kennel, with Melanie Montague in lead, once again coordinated their efforts and nominated AJ for the Stormy Kromer 2012 Living Legend award. What did it take to make the nomination: a well written essay, some pictures, links and some mundane things like signatures and deadlines.

Did we think much would come of it?---No. Yet, a phone call brought with it an even greater surprise. As AJ held the phone in one hand and a pup in the other, he was notified by Stormy Kromer that he had been chosen as one of the ten finalists in the contest.

Why do we care? Bragging rights are one thing, but more importantly because Alaska Children’s Trust---dedicated to the prevention of child abuse and neglect---a charity chosen by AJ could receive 3% of Net Online Sales made through the www.stormykromer.com web site from January 9, 2012 through January 31, 2012 if he wins.

Voting begins on November 21, 2012. Visit the www.stormykromer.com for voting instructions.

***Thanks to Melanie, Professor B and Amalia for working on the nomination and thinking as much of AJ as I do. Thanks, RHS

Training: From Falling Leaves to First Snow

2011-11-08T07:47:00.018-09:00

The team takes a break on a fall training run.

Pulling the four-wheeler on crisp mornings, fall training began as the trees still clung to their leaves refusing to let go. Once refusing to fall, the leaves finally gave way long before the first snow fall of the season caught the team on a training run. Large flakes fell on the heads and tongues of the enthusiastic dogs. The first snow, as is often the case, melted shortly after falling and four-wheeler training would continue for many more days leaving AJ to truck to the hills in search for trails.

Chasing the snow, the team trucked to the hills.

At last, what we hoped for, talked about and wanted finally happened. The snow fell. And fell. Taking the thigh deep snowfall personally as he cleared our half-mile long driveway, AJ also knew that the ganglines would be moved from the four-wheeler to the sled.

'Tis the Season: Holiday Boutique

2011-11-06T03:07:00.003-09:00

Tis the season! Coordinated by the same friends of the Kennel that brought you our first online auction, and boasting several handmade crafts, artwork, items for dog and cat lovers, and other one-of-a-kind gifts, Snowhook is pleased to open the Holiday Boutique.

Visit the Holiday Boutique link and shop early---quantities are limited.

All proceeds from the Holiday Boutique will support Snowhook's 2011/2012 race season.

Zebbe Lends a Helping Paw

2011-10-08T07:00:00.001-08:00

Zebbe supervises AJ’s work ask he lifts bail after bail of straw that will be stored and then regularly given to the dogs throughout the season.

Black & Blue: AJ's Coat of Many Colors

2011-10-06T04:38:00.000-08:00

The team had traveled through the beginning frenzy of the 2011 Iditarod---a trail lined with race fans on snowmachines,---the climb of Rainy Pass, the drop and pool of the Steps, but it was an encounter between parka and tree in the Farewell Burn that would land AJ on the front page of the sports page.

The sewing kit had been packed by Rebecca. Needles of different sizes all strong enough for cordura and webbing, and bright blue thread---easy for tired eyes to see against the black material that makes up the bulk of AJ’s mushing gear---were used to repair a dollar bill sized gash in the arm of AJ’s parka.

http://www.adn.com/2011/03/08/1743560/2011-iditarod-day-3.html#id=1744291&view=large_view

***

Could he use the parka for another race season? Threadbare as it already was, our answer was no. Then came the question of whether or not to save up and purchase the same parka again---we knew how it performed and Rebecca knew what modifications to make---or try something different? After looking at specs the different options boasted, the decision was made. Different.

Thanks to a sponsorship from Snowhook’s 2011 Iditarider, Carol Comeau we were able to put a sizeable down payment on a new anorak---the only one in AJ’s size that the store received for the season---and pay the remaining balance over time.

Making the final payment, AJ’s new anorak now hangs amongst the sea of mushing gear. Spotted with only the occasional and haphazard strand of dog fur that is a result by mere presence in our home, the anorak does not smell of dog, yet. Yet.

Falling Foliage Footage

2011-09-25T16:27:00.001-08:00

Husky Homecoming

2011-09-24T04:33:00.007-08:00

With the exception of eight dogs comprised of retirees, free spirits, dogs that don’t consider themselves dogs and two mid-summer additions----Gomez and Rio---the Kennel sat quiet this summer. Dozens of dog dishes remained empty.

The quiet in the Kennel, the absence we tried to ignore as the days passed became a main source of conversation as the time neared to collect the dogs and bring them back home. The quiet was ignored no longer as it would soon be filled with the howls and barks of the Snowhook Family.

For the third time this summer---the first to take the dogs to southeast Alaska to run tours and a second time to visit the dogs---AJ prepared to make the journey. Hitching dog trailer to dog truck, AJ left Rebecca knowing that when he returned the Kennel would once again be complete.

With eager anticipation her constant companion, Rebecca waited.

Listening on the most reliable signal of return offered--- the barks of the ten in the Kennel--- Rebecca knew mutts and musher had returned home along with Jeremy our handler back for another season.

A quiet, empty Kennel no more, it was a homecoming of tailwags, hugs, and belly rubs.

Firewood Frenzy

2011-09-06T15:34:00.000-08:00

They say firewood warms you twice---once when you cut it and once when you burn it. Whoever coined the phrase, didn’t know us.

With access to down trees, the long Labor Day weekend brought with it one goal: cut and gather enough firewood for the upcoming winter. The first trip, like those that followed started with an hour drive, included sawdust, the loud hum-buzz of the chainsaw, stacking cut logs three deep, and rain and mud.

Towing a trailer full of cut wood, exhausted, chilled with the wet mud that weaved through the fibers of our clothes we were eager to get home. Six miles, only six miles and we would have begun the second half of our firewood chores---unloading, splitting and stacking. Six miles away and the tell-tell, thwack of rubber to tire well sounded. Had the flat tire been on the truck, the fix would have been much simpler.

As we examined what would prove to be a considerable undertaking, the red and blue lights flashed through the falling night. The trooper approached with caution, and if AJ’s face and clothes were as dirty and disreputable as Rebecca’s, it was no wonder.

Two car jacks, two good Samaritans, and a two hour tire change later we arrived home. Then, the splitting and stacking began.

Our efforts that long weekend yielded nine cords of wood---each split by AJ’s calloused hands, and the firsthand knowledge---learned in a later lesson---that a dog truck towing a trailer heavy laden with firewood is not an appropriate off-roading rig.

Snowhook Kennel in USA Today --- Could it be?

2011-08-30T04:01:00.002-08:00

If we were expecting anything from today, reading about Snowhook Kennel in USA Today was not it.

Yet, we could not be more pleasantly surprised that Snowhook was mentioned in the same article about Spencer Quinn--- an author with dog in his soul---his fourth book in the Chet and Bernie mystery series, The Dog Who Knew Too Much, and the die-hard fans that have become fast friends of the Kennel.

http://books.usatoday.com/bookbuzz/post/2011-08-29/chet-the-dog/417121/1

Moving Mountains & Other Summer Projects

2011-08-28T06:41:00.008-08:00

“What did you do today?” Rebecca asked from a hotel room in the lower forty-eight. Away at a conference for work, she missed AJ and called for an update from home.

“Oh, not a lot.” He continued, “Mick came out and we worked on a couple of projects.” Mick, the official welder and good friend of the Kennel, is an expert with both tool and torch.

Curiosity winning out, “Like what?”

“Nothing big. Just a couple of projects. I’ll send you some pictures.”

‘Nothing big’ is AJ and Mick speak for moving a building. You know---small stuff. Separately, it is always a surprise what they will do when left to their own devices, but together---if not mountains they can certainly move buildings.

As a surprise for Rebecca, something she wanted, AJ and Mick moved the handler cabin from its original spot next to the house to its new location. With the dog yard as the welcome mat, Jeremy, our handler will have better neighbors and more privacy.

***

New and improved handler cabin.

Moving the handler cabin was just one on a long list of projects tackled this summer. AJ armed with tools and Rebecca paint and the obligatory paintbrush, the exterior of the handler cabin was finished, and thanks to a trade with Mick and Jodi the interior acquired some new-to-us furnishings.

If ever a small cabin could be built from the clearance rack and hand-me-down materials, we did it when we built the handler cabin last year. And in the same spirit, the useable materials from our old dog barn were used to construct a new dog barn complete with sleeping quarters for old or injured dogs. Howard, Rebecca’s old stray and her heart made quick work of making it his own.

When Rebecca was not looking, AJ repaired and painted the dog houses and expanded the kennel.

Tomboy: Snowhook's Cover Girl

2011-08-19T21:17:00.002-08:00

Tomboy's excitement can't be
contained at the 2011
Ceremonial Start.
Photo by Matt Keortge

“Guess what?” AJ started our phone conversation, “I was at the store and saw Tomboy on the cover of a calendar.”

“I wondered when the calendar was going to come out. Is it clear that it’s our girl?

He growled a low laugh from his throat, “Oh, yeah. I knew it was our girl the second I saw the calendar. There she was just staring back at me.”

Once it was settled that we needed at least one copy the phone conversation was ended, and Rebecca took to telling her co-worker that we have a cover model on the team---some would call it beaming with pride and they would be right.

Shortly after the team returned home from Nome, we received an email from Todd Communications, publisher of the Mushing Alaska calendar. It seems a photograph of our girl caught their eye for the 2012 calendar. As the team rested in Takotna on their twenty-four hour layover in the 2011 race, Jeff Schultz, official Iditarod photographer snapped the cover shot of our very lively, very happy lead dog.

Tomboy, daughter of Rebecca’s main leader Fargo, has accompanied AJ on many races including the 2011 Iditarod. The smile on her face is made even more perfect by her one blue eye and one brown eye. In the kennel, she is known for giving some of the best hugs.

Available Now: Chet the Dog Patches for Snowhook's 2012 Iditarod

2011-08-17T20:17:00.000-08:00

Designed for Snowhook's 2012 Iditarod by the Plunderers, friends of the Kennel who are also fans of the famed Chet and Bernie mystery series by Spencer Quinn, this one of a kind patch is waiting to be sewn on your favorite jacket, bag or backpack.

AJ and Rebecca will be wearing parkas adorned with the patch during the 2012 race season.

Visit Snowhook's Musher's Mercantile to order your patch today: http://www.shopsnowhookkennel.blogspot.com/

Tales from the Trail: An Uphill Climb

2011-08-02T22:25:00.002-08:00

“Hup! Hup!” he spurred the team on with each inhale. The intake of oxygen and spoken word having become one in the same offset the two count rhythm of his pace. The dogs kept a steady gait.

His feet had not stood on the runners longer than the brief stretches of downhill that provided respite to both musher and dogs since the daylight hours. Darkness had long creeped into the crevasses of daylight until the only light that remained danced above in the winter sky. Still he ran. He ran to make the load lighter for the dogs. He ran to reinforce to each dog that they are all part of the team. He ran because the master is the servant. He ran despite the fatigue, the hunger and the sweat that streamed down his back and chest.

It had been a warm race. Warm, indeed. The unexpected balmy winter temperatures and the heat exerted in the effort of running up one hill after another seemed as though the Last Great Race took a detour to the tropics.

The arctic ready parka with fur ruff, the layering coat rated to thirty degrees below zero, and the red fleece jacket punctured with holes from the teeth and claws of a playful pup had all been shed and stuffed into the sled bag filling the empty spaces around bags of kibble and meat, cooker, sleeping bag and runner plastic many miles ago---all that remained were base layer, boots and bibs.

Fingers wrapped around the handlebar, he pushed the sled up the hill, his head down to stretch the muscles in his neck and back, his knees nearing his face with each stride. He noticed the mismatched thread on the outer pocket of his bibs. He had asked for an after market addition, large outer pockets to be sewn on the thighs of his bibs, and as a last minute sewing request he knew he was taking a risk. The rule, her rule, explicitly stated: the materials for all last minute sewing requests are at my discretion---he was at the mercy of whatever colors of materials she may have on hand or how sleep deprived she was at the time of the request. The thread may be pink, the snippets of Velcro may be mismatched colors---tan, blue, green and pink, but the material for the pockets, that which the world was likely to notice was at least black. “Besides, you’ll think of me every time you use that particular pocket,” she had told him and she was right. He could and would dwell on his wife later, but the focus was listening to the dogs as they ran up another hill.

“It’s the last hill, I promise,” he tried to convince himself as much as the dogs. It was not a promise, it was hope, and it was false hope. As they crested the hill he saw it---another rise in the horizon. You’ve got to be kidding me. In her own way, Annabelle his lead dog communicated the same sentiment to him---No; you’ve got to be kidding me. He listened.

The cold steel of the snowhook felt good in his hand as the blood pounded warmth through his extremities from miles of running. He kicked the snowhook into the snow. It was time to play, time to have fun.

Soft words for Annabelle, an ear scratch for Charlie, a hug for Whitey-Lance, a scratch of the hind quarters for Elim, a belly rub for Louisa Mae. Each dog was given love, attention, soft words and snacks. “Okay, we’re ready,” she said to him, again in her own way a short time later, and again he listened.

“Ready!” The dogs stood at attention as he secured the snowhook in the holster. “Let’s go!” If they had run up a thousand hills before you would not know it. Unable to keep pace with the team, newly refreshed, he rode the runners into the next checkpoint.

-RHS

Dogumentary Pawdition

2011-07-24T10:17:00.000-08:00

This Iditarod Entry was Brought to you By...

2011-06-25T23:24:00.005-08:00

“Quick. What’s the mileage between Cripple and Ruby?” AJ asked as soon as he realized Rebecca was on the brink of waking up. June being what it is in Alaska, the room was not dark. It might have looked like noon, but it was not yet four a.m.

“Huh?”

“Do you know the mileage between Cripple and Ruby off the top of your head? I can’t remember.”

“Why didn’t you go look at the map?” Turning her head on her pillow, she wasn’t looking at her husband, as she expected. Tenzing, her first sled dog, his head also on her pillow, touched his wet nose to hers. “Morning, bud.”

This map, the map of the Iditarod trail has hung in the house year round for quite some time. It is stared at, examined and studied by musher and musher’s best-damn-handling wife together and separate on a regular basis. “I didn’t want to wake you by getting out of bed.”

“Grrr.”

***

This early morning exchange, common between us increased as the 25th of June approached, the first day to sign up for the 2012 Iditarod.

Snowhook Kennel was a last day entrant for the 2011 race, screeching to the deadline with paperwork and scraped together entrance fee in hand just hours before the entrance window closed. This year is different, a night and day difference. This year, Snowhook entered the race on the first day possible. This year, lifting the stress and worry of last year, Snowhook’s entrance fee was made possible by a new fan and friend of the Kennel who wishes to remain anonymous.

As Snowhook looks toward March we are ever aware of the steps between now and our thousand mile journey.

***

Thank you to all those who support and cheer for the Kennel, who have made this race and previous races possible, and a special thank you to the individual who knows what it is to dream and made our 2012 entrance fee a reality. Our dog dish runneth over…

A short story for Father’s Day

2011-06-19T10:44:00.007-08:00

Luna, the matriarch of the kennel was born to mother, to nurture, but it was not Luna who saved the pup’s life.

*****

Placing my fur-lined hat on my head I married the Velcro lengths of chin strap together, drew my neck gaiter up to rest on the bridge of my nose, the fleece and fur soft against my skin. I would not leave much skin exposed to the cold night as I prepared to face the frigid temperatures that held at forty-three below zero.

Before tending to my evening chores of feeding, watering, scooping and love I had a priority by the name of Noel. Expecting her first litter we had prepared a space, a nest for her in the dog barn. She refused the accommodations insisting that her dog house was where she intended to have and raise her brood. I lifted the roof to her dog house insulated with foam board and cushioned with extra straw to find mama curled around five freshly hatched pups. “Oh, beautiful girl, look what you’ve done!” I patted her head, “May I?” The new mother watched as I lifted one pup after another, closed eyes, pink paws and noses, warm little tummies and heads that searched for mama. All but one searched for mama, all but one had a warm tummy. It was cold and stiff, but still had the shallowest of breaths.

I replaced the roof of Noel’s house leaving her with four pups to feed and clean. I rushed to Luna with hopes that she would know what must be done for the pup. She sniffed, she nuzzled and then she walked away. Damn! Tears threatened to freeze to my already frosted eyelashes.

The sprint from kennel to house felt more like the pace of a leisurely stroll with the weight of boots and winter clothes. I could hear the footfalls of paws crunching in the snow behind me. I was thankful for the change of heart from our kennel matriarch. Opening the door, the dog pushed past me and as if I had advertised my destination and ran upstairs to our bedroom. I kicked off my boots, and switched the pup from hand to hand as I doffed my winter wear. I placed the pup against my skin inside my shirt and held him tight to my chest as I skipped every other stair.

Not bothering to turn on the lights, I slid between the winter layers of our bed covers with the pup lying on the flat plain just below my collar bones. Come on little one, come on. The pup had stopped breathing. No! I sat with a shot and turned on the lamp. Placing my lips over snout and mouth I exhaled what I hoped would be the breath of life. Again. And again. The pup started to breathe. The breaths were shallow, but they were breaths. With relief I realized it was not Luna that sat with me and the pup. It was Tenzing, his eyes intent on the treasure I held against me.

I placed the pup against my skin again. Within in moments, Tenzing started pawing at my shoulders, careful not to touch the pup. I pushed him away. He would not yield. More insistent he pawed the covers from the pup and I, pushing my hands with his nose. Both of us growing impatient with the other, he barked once, “Mama! Please!” In the moments pause for him to bark, I realized the pup was in distress. I withdrew the pup from my chest, and with a gentleness and grace that I cannot fully describe to this day, Tenzing took over.

Teeth to scruff, Tenzing lay on the bed and enveloped the pup in the long fur under his chin. As if the regular flexibility of a dog’s neck was expanded Tenzing contorted, his mouth directly over the pup. He opened his mouth and began to breathe. Different from the short, reactive nature of a pant, the breaths were long, hot and deliberate.

Through blurry eyes, I watched as the pup’s limbs start to move, slightly at first. And then, the pup began to cry. High squeaks became a continuous rhythm in the cold house that night. “You go ahead and cry all you want little one. It lets me know you’re ok,” I stroked the pup still curled against Tenzing’s body, blanketed in the long fur of my first sled dog.

“Go finish your chores. I’ve got this one.”

I kissed the asymmetrical blaze on Tenzing’s forehead before leaving pup and grandfather alone.

-RHS

Save the Date: Snowhook Kennel Online Auction

2011-06-15T01:02:00.000-08:00

Going once...going twice...Sold! Mark you calendars for Snowhook's first ever fund raising online auction!

Friends of the Kennel from far and wide coordinated efforts to not only host but donate to the online auction. From July 2nd to July 10th you can join in the fun and bid on artwork and crafts created exclusively for the auction, quilted projects, items for race fans, treasures for dog and cat lovers, dog sledding items from Snowhook Kennel, and so much more. Did we mention the much more includes an Advanced Reader Copy of Spencer Quinn's next book, The Dog Who Knew Too Much? Wow!

Save the date, spread the word, and put the online auction on your to-do list. Details are forthcoming—get ready for a bidding war to begin!

All proceeds from this auction will support Snowhook’s 2011/2012 race season.

From Start to Finish: A Short Story

2011-06-13T00:37:00.000-08:00

Amidst the crowd of friends and strangers, among the sounds of dogs and the chatter of fans, and before time was called to move to the starting line a quiet moment was stolen.

He held her close to him, against his chest and bent to her ear, “I will take care of you. You will take care of me.” She did not respond with words, she did not need to---this was understood between them since their beginning. “Let’s get to Nome.”

“Justin, bib sixty-three, you leave in two minutes,” and with the matter-of-fact words spoken by the parka clad, bunny-boot wearing, clipboard carrying volunteer, the quiet moment between AJ and his best girl ended. Show time.

He led her to the front of the line. It was where she belonged; it was her, after all that had helped him get to the starting line.

*****

From starting line to finish line she had been with him every step of the way, and with each step the bond was further etched in stone, and with each mile the same bond ventured into something beyond description---a secret existence.

Flight times having separated their arrival home after their 1,000 mile journey the musher was the last to arrive. Existing beyond the exhaustion of the race, rather than seek the comforts of bed he sought out his best girl first. She had waited for him. “Annabelle!” she greeted him with a wag of the tail followed by a featherweight hug, “I got us to Nome. Just like you asked.”

Looking Ahead

2011-06-12T00:52:00.000-08:00

June 25th seems to just on the horizon and at times seems a far distant date, the latter usually being the case when one is eager for something. The final Saturday in June is the first day mushers can throw their fur hat in the ring for the 2012 race. Snowhook will be there paperwork and entrance fee in hand.

Until Pay to Play day, there is much to be done at our homestead. Firewood for one and kennel repairs for another. We prepare today for the winter ahead so we can focus on training and racing come the season.

Missing Musher: Melanie Gould

2011-06-07T22:42:00.004-08:00

After missing work and finding her dogs left unattended at the end of May, loved ones of Melanie Gould, Iditarod musher sounded the alarm. The same loved ones have done their utmost, it seems to push the story of their missing friend to the forefront. Rightly so---a musher should not, could not, would not leave their dogs.

We do not know Melanie other than by sight, yet others know her and love her. Beyond spreading the word what is there to do? Watch? Wait? Worry? Hope.

I am reminded of not too long ago when Whitey-Lance was missing in the 2010 Iditarod. If the passage of time as I waited was torture, the feeling of helplessness was agony. The depths of despair were not only inviting but beckoned during those days when our dear one was missing. And, then it happened: the prayers I knew were being prayed and the hopes I knew were being hoped spread beyond family and close friends to race fans, strangers both near and far from all over the world---And, then he was found safe and healthy.

Maybe it is a good thought, or a formal utterance to a higher authority, but please pray in your own way for the safe return of Melanie, for the calming and comforting of her family, friends and dogs, for the guidance of those who search.

More information can be found at the Have you seen Melanie Gould? Facebook page.

-RHS

Update: Melanie was found safe on Saturday, June 11, 2011.

Operation: Rescue Dog Truck

2011-05-15T21:51:00.004-08:00

Less than two weeks after AJ placed a late night call to Rebecca on his way home from taking the team to Southeast Alaska to inform her that our particular transmission was no longer a functioning member of the Snowhook Kennel team, we drove five hours yesterday to Valdez to rescue our dog truck.

Based on previous conversations with the mechanic we hoped---we expected to be driving the dog truck home that same evening. As it would turn out, we found ourselves unexpectedly staying the night in Valdez. Despite the stress that vehicle troubles are known to bring, we decided to make the best of our impromptu vacation and walked around town and visited the local museums…life seems a bit easier hand in hand with AJ.

At last we received the call from the mechanic this afternoon, the truck was ready. And then he added what one hopes not to hear from the mechanic who just worked on your vehicle, “I’ll be surprised if you make it ten miles.” Transfer case---shot. Gaskets---circling the drain. Various fluids---leaking.

Making it to the eleven mile marker brought victory. Making it home brought relief.

RHS

Remembering Rowdy

2011-05-10T14:08:00.028-08:00

We buried our dear one, Rowdy today. His burial delayed by the frozen ground of winter is as long overdue as his eulogy. Of all the writing I have done recently, I could not write of Rowdy---to do so is to make the phantom of loss a solid, acknowledged mass. But tonight, sitting alone, I finish writing what I started months ago.

I did not sing his songs to him as I have with other dogs; the lyrics would not come. I did not pray that I would understand and accept his passing as I have when other dogs have journeyed from this life; I knew acceptance was not possible.

Laying on the straw, I held Rowdy in my arms as AJ held me in his on the evening of November 20th, 2010. Rather than sing or pray I begged and pleaded that Rowdy stay with me. My pleading quickly turned into a demand. AJ only spoke soft words of comfort in my ear; like the words of Rowdy’s songs Return to Pooh Corner by Kenny Loggins and The Monkey and the Engineer by The Grateful Dead, comfort would not come.

Rowdy was the kind of soul that required a bit of extra care in this world. I knew it. AJ knew it. Bridger knew it. This knowledge, not just selfishness of being denied my dear boy was the reason for my demands, the reason for my unwillingness to let him go. Was he scared? Did he understand what was happening? Did he know he was loved beyond everything I could put into words? Had it been a physical entity, I would have fought with all my fury and desperation for the mere assurance that he would not fear or have reason to fear. I would have fought for him to be comforted in his passing, and to have the knowledge that he was loved.

Eventually, despite my pleas but cradled in my arms, life left Rowdy and my broken heart remained. Forced by AJ into the house and left in the care of Tenzing, AJ returned to the kennel to wrap and care for Rowdy’s body.

The stories I could not voice earlier in the evening came to mind as I spent a sleepless night in AJ’s arms. I recalled first meeting Rowdy, the time we put him lead and then quickly put him back in the wheel position, and the way he seemed to understand portion size as I divvied up the contents of canned dog food between his and Howard’s dog dishes, “No, no! Too much for him, not enough for Rowdy!” While some thoughts would have made me laugh on any other day, that night and many times since they only reinforce the loss. I thought of how I held him in my arms with the first stroke he suffered nearly eighteen months prior, and I cursed the stroke that took him from me.

Since his passing, the sense of loss and grief lurks. Some mornings I sit in the parking lot of work, my head to the steering wheel trying to stop the tears. I have abandoned many a shopping basket at the market as I have sought refuge in my car to grieve in private. I have avoided his pen in the kennel because it only serves as a reminder that he is not there.

I can describe my time with Rowdy with ease, I can put the night of his passing into words, but find it nearly impossible to describe what made Rowdy so special---he was special just by his existence. He was all heart, as the star of many of my kennel stories he had great comedic timing, and was loved and loved in return. Rowdy was one of my dearest friends, animal or human.

I miss my Pooh Bear,
RHS

Return to Pooh Corner

Christopher Robin and I walked along
Under branches lit up by the moon
Posing our questions to Owl and Eeyore
As our days disappeared all too soon
But I've wandered much further today than I should
And I can't seem to find my way back to the Wood

So help me if you can
I've got to get back
To the House at Pooh Corner by one
You'd be surprised
There's so much to be done
Count all the bees in the hive
Chase all the clouds from the sky
Back to the days of Christopher Robin and Pooh

Winnie the Pooh doesn't know what to do
Got a honey jar stuck on his nose
He came to me asking help and advice
From here no one knows where he goes
So I sent him to ask of the Owl if he's there
How to loosen a jar from the nose of a bear

Help me if you can
I've got to get back
To the House at Pooh Corner by one
You'd be surprised
There's so much to be done
Count all the bees in the hive
Chase all the clouds from the sky
Back to the days of Christopher Robin and Pooh

It's hard to explain how a few precious things
Seem to follow throughout all our lives
After all's said and done I was watching my son
Sleeping there with my bear by his side
So I tucked him in, I kissed him and as I was going
I swear that the old bear whispered "Boy welcome home"

Believe me if you can
I've finally come back
To the House at Pooh Corner by one
What do you know
There's so much to be done
Count all the bees in the hive
Chase all the clouds from the sky
Back to the days of Christopher Robin
Back to the ways of Christopher Robin
Back to the days of Pooh

Dog Days of Summer

2011-05-04T01:59:00.014-08:00

The first round of good-byes said to the dogs and the many that followed were merely dress rehearsals for the good-byes that would be said the day they left for Southeast Alaska where they will spend the summer running sled dog tours for tourists.

AJ, Rebecca and Jeremy loaded thirty-six dogs into the dog boxes, and once the last good-bye was said and the final ear scratch given, Rebecca watched as husband, dogs, handler, dog truck and trailer pulled down the driveway. Those left behind, Tenzing, Luna, Belle Starr, Savannah, Howard, Bridger, Garcia, Johnny and Rebecca all howled as the team drove away. It was the howl of the heartbroken and the left behind.

And, as if Rebecca’s heart did not already hurt enough at the thought of an empty kennel for the summer, Tenzing pulled loose, and gave chase down the driveway. “Wait! Not without me!” Sprinting as fast as her Xtratuf clad feet would allow, Rebecca chased the dog chasing the team heading toward to highway. Who was she kidding? Running back to the house, jumping in the car and speeding down the mud bog that it our driveway she was met by mutt and musher, the latter having stopped at the end of the driveway to check on the precious cargo only to be greeted by the kennel’s first sled dog.

The journey to Southeast Alaska for the Snowhook Thirty-Six included long hours on the road, several stops, a ferry ride, providing a spot of entertainment for the town of Haines, and a dip in the ocean.

While we planned and prepared to send the team to work for an outfit that operates dog tours on the glacier and woodland in Southeast Alaska, we did so with uncertainty. Would the dogs understand that the separation from us would only last the summer? Would they feel abandoned? Would they miss the kennel? Would they still know that they are loved?

The dogs were not the only ones to secure summer employment; Jeremy will be a mushing guide this summer for the same outfit. Before hitting the road, Rebecca instructed the dogs to make like Jeremy is in charge when the tourists are around.

Their journey would end just as it had started----good-byes, loves, belly rubs and ear scratches, and before AJ’s departure from Southeast charged Jeremy to keep a watchful eye on the team.

Snowhook's Countdown to Iditarod 2012 Calendars --- Available Now!

2011-04-18T14:30:00.009-08:00

We were struck by the realization long ago that our kennel life is a spectator sport for many, these many not often clad in overalls, bunny boots and the dog fur of over forty-dogs. Running from April, 2011 to March, 2012, front row seats to life at Snowhook are available in the Countdown to Iditarod 2012 calendar.

Want to be part of the action without the frostbite? You can order your calendar today---follow the link on the right hand menu of the blog.

Calendars are $50 USD each + $5.00 S&H

Home from Nome

2011-04-03T22:26:00.000-08:00

AJ followed Rebecca who followed Frank to the top of the stairs leading to the reserved room in a local restaurant. As he crested the stairs, a wave of applause greeted AJ along with calls of congratulations. After much plotting and planning on the part of Frank and Karen Washington who do not believe in doing anything low key, nearly two dozen friends and supports of Snowhook Kennel gathered for a surprise party to welcome AJ home from Nome.

Once the speechless sense of being utterly overwhelmed passed, AJ took to telling tales of the trail, some funny, some heartwarming. We laughed, we visited, we ate and we enjoyed the company of all those in attendance.

In one way or another, each of those at the party and many, many more who were not present helped us not only get to the starting line, but to the finish line as well---thank you.

Valdez Vacation

2011-04-02T23:13:00.007-08:00

Beyond commuting to Anchorage together for work, in the nearly seven years we have lived in Alaska we have only traveled outside of Willow a total of four times. Two of the four times involved an overnight stay and the most recent was our time in Nome together in which we arrived and left separately. Add number five to the tally---a bleary eyed, blitz run to the tally.

Rising early in the pre-dawn hours, earlier than either of us preferred we tended to the dogs, hitched up a borrowed trailer, and lifted Tenzing into the vehicle. We were Valdez bound.

Realizing that our funds would come up woefully short for the expense of running the Iditarod in late February we looked around to see what we could sell to close the gap of the financial short coming. Our four-wheeler, broken as it was and needing several hundred dollars worth of repairs was the only thing left we had available that would bring in the money needed. Lucky for us we found a buyer quickly. And, lucky for us, while in Valdez for work AJ found a used four-wheeler for sale in our price range that we can pay for over time.

A four-wheeler is an essential tool of the dog mushing trade. It is utilitarian, not recreational. Before the snow flies each season and the trail becomes sled friendly the team is trained by means of a four-wheeler. This is a tool so essential that each finishing musher was given the opportunity to win a four-wheeler at the Finisher's Banquet in Nome. Luck was not on our side that evening.

Sandwiched between the five to six hour long drive to and from Valdez we loaded up the four-wheeler, made our first payment and found our way to the dock. Being a land lover, Tenzing stayed cautiously between us as we strolled up and down the dock looking at boats, thinking of names for seafaring vessels should we ever find ourselves the owner of a yacht, and watching the occasional sea otter.

We talked, listed to an audio book, held hands, ate Starburst candy and just enjoyed our time away brief as it was---away and together.

What's One More?

2011-03-29T00:02:00.004-08:00

A few short days following our return from Nome, AJ left for a four day business trip to Valdez. Late on the evening he was to return home he called to say that he had just been pulled over and received a warning for a headlight that went out, but more importantly Zebbe was not driving when the trooper turned on his red and blues. Who is Zebbe?

A leader. A female. A finisher in the 2008 Iditarod. And now, this little girl is ours.

After running for Rich Corcoran, a good friend of Rebecca's mushing mentor, Lance Best in the 2008 Iditarod Zebbe found herself in a good home with a young musher. The same young musher now finds his family relocating to the lower forty-eight. Enter AJ.

Knowing that Rebecca was unlikely to say no, AJ made the decision to offer Zebbe our kennel as her new home. Zebbe was kind enough to share some of her beef jerky with AJ as they made the drive home and sat on his lap for many of those miles.

By way of introduction, Zebbe leaned into Rebecca, her weight against Rebecca better than any handshake she was welcomed to Snowhook. Given the stamp of approval from Luna and Luna's dog, Belle Starr Zebbe was introduced to the rest of the kennel and given a home of her own. Welcome home little blue-eyed girl...

Zebbes' former family is also shedding a four-wheeler which might be our speed.

Finish Line Photos

2011-03-20T06:03:00.005-08:00

The burled arch says it all...waiting...

AJ enters the finishing chute on Front Street shortly after 9 p.m. on March 18, 2011.

Whitey-Lance is ready to keep running as the team enjoys the finish line.

AJ speaks with Mark Nordman, Race Marshall who greets each team as they cross the finish line.

AJ is interviewed about the race. One of the first topics of discussion was whether or not Whitey-Lance made it to the finish line.

Rebecca makes her way along the gangline to welcome, congratulate, thank and love each of the dogs.

Andy, Race Judge and sometimes trail chef congratulates AJ.

No words required.

Few Words Speak Volumes: Musher's Moments in the Dog Lot

2011-03-19T05:47:00.004-08:00

From the finish line, Rebecca stood next to AJ on the runners as the team ran the short distance to the dog lot prepared by Iditarod for the finishing teams. Greeted by Frank, the final of the seven dropped dogs who had been sent to Nome instead of Anchorage we set to the unspoken priority---the dogs.

Each dog was given fresh straw by AJ and wrapped in a dog jacket by Rebecca and food and water was prepared, a health dose provided to each dog.

"Again next year?" Rebecca asked AJ as we passed each other while tending to the dogs.

As we bedded down the nine dogs that had just run from Willow to Nome, and greeted Frank, with a contented but exhausted smile he simply said, "Yes. Next year."

As the priority of the dogs and who would do what chore required little conversation, our run in 2012 was also a given for both of us, but confirmed with these few words. Speaking only a few words to one another in the nearly hour and half we spent in the dog lot, soft words were spoken to the dogs, a constant conversation of love and gratitude. We watched as the dogs ate, then curling tail to nose begun to sleep the sleep of champions.

Failed Flights, Fast Friends and a First-time Finish

2011-03-19T03:17:00.004-08:00

"I don't care if I have to walk, I need to get to Nome," I mumbled to the stranger in the row behind me as we rose to deboard the plane in Kotzebue, a stop on our way to Nome after mechanics were unable to fix a wayward piece of the wing.

During the short, wind riddled walk between plane and small terminal, I explained to the stranger, Robb that I was headed to Nome to welcome the team, my team across the finish line. Finding refuge from the wind in the terminal, the rag-tag band of travelers, some church members heading to Nome to volunteer for the race, some race fans, others Nome-bound for work and a few with family living in our destination city waited to rebook a flight for the following morning. This is where the rallying began...

Unable to access the GPS tracker on my mobile phone in Kotz, as we stood in line Robb called his mother and asked her to check on AJ's status. Holding tight in White Mountain. As flights were rebooked and cabs taking us to our night's lodging were waited for passengeres of the flight asked questions and were shown pictures of the team.

The following morning we arrived in Nome. While in the air, I listened to my AJ/Iditarod playlist. Hobo Jim's Iditarod Song made me smile, so close to the finish line, and his Wild and Free, a song that seems to be suited for both AJ and Whitey-Lance left me longing for the moment I would see them both along with eight other team members under the burled arch. My heart began to ache...I needed my man and mutts.

Not knowing what to expect when I arrived, I was fortunate to hitch a ride to Front Street with Rob and his mother Onna who conveniently was doing some consulting work in Nome and had use of a car. I found my way to the temporary Iditarod race headquarters and begun what would be several hours of waiting.

As the time seemed to tick by at half speed, my fellows from my failed flight checked on me throughout the day as did Marcia and Wendy from our starting line pit crew who were volunteering in Nome. How was I doing? When did I expect him? Has he reached the checkpoint of Saftey, yet?

I watched as Wattie MacDonald crossed the finish line not long after I arrived in Nome and I expected my team to cross within a handful of hours after the Scot completed his second race. AJ and Wattie along with Cain Carter and Magnus Katlenborn had traveled somewhat together for much of the race. AJ was not the next musher I would see under the arch. He had stopped in Safety, but why?

Blindly waiting for something, or someones in my case does not and did not accomodate sitting still for so long. Finding myself homeless having been told we were not listed for housing when I arrived in Nome I was glad I packed light. I lifted my backpack on my shoulders and started walking. After walking up and down blocks in downtown Nome, I knew where I wanted to be and walked with full purpose to where the sea ice rises to meet Front Street.

Standing in the harsh wind looking over the sea ice and seeing nothing by white, I dwelled on the words by Hobo Jim in Wild and Free, "...I didn't care at all which way I did go. I didn't mind the hunger, the wind, or the rain or the snow because I was on the road to what I wanted to be..." I stood there in the wind willing AJ to know I was waiting for him. Willing him to meet me under the burled arch. Willing that he and the dogs would know proud I am of them, how grateful I am for them. I did not doubt AJ, but wondered at the extended stay in Safety. I knew my man, his inner strength made of the same steel as his physical strength would carry the dogs and drag the sled behind him for the remaining miles if he must.

How long had I stood there? I have no idea. I do know that I was called out of my hundred yard stare across the sea ice by Robb and Onna. They told me to hop in the car and they would drive me out the road to see if any teams might be spotted. Nothing. Keeping my spirits up and my mind distracted we went to a cafe for dinner---the first meal I had in twenty-four hours. I parted with Rob and Onna heartened by their kindness and with the calm sense that I would be under the burled arch soon watching bib #63 run up Front Street.

Not long after eating dinner the siren sounded signaling that a team approached the finish line. Not AJ. I returned to Iditarod headquarters to wait. Not much longer now, the team was on the move. Based on updates from Frank and Karen Washington and Paul Lowe, and the GPS tracker on my cell phone, AJ and another musher were running neck and neck heading toward Front Street. The siren sounded once again.

As I stood outside along the finishing chute familiar faces started to gather. Passengers from my flight to Nome had come to cheer the team to the finish line. As I stood on the sidelines, I was told by the race coordinator to join her under the burled arch. No need to ask twice. I instructed Robb to follow me in hopes that he might get a picture of him with the team that he could take back to his third grade students who had been following the race---the least I could do for the kindness I had been shown. Race officials gathered around me under the arch and time, which seemed impossibly slow earlier seemed to have stopped altogether. "Check the stalker," the race coordinator instructed me, knowing that she meant the GPS tracker I pulled out my mobile phone. AJ, neck and neck with the another musher was listed as running at a faster speed. Could he be the next team? I wanted to run down Front Street. No need to run. Wendy had made her way down the famed street, saw a pregnant woman running with the news of who would take 38th place in the race. The relay began. Wendy ran to the chute, "Not AJ, not AJ!" I did not care that he was not next, he was on the way.

Within a couple of minutes of the 38th place team's arrival another dog team was nearing the finish line. My dog team. My heart pounded, and everything but the team running up Front Street became a sea of colors and muffled sounds. Twig and Rory in lead and my man on the runners. Smiling. I ran to meet him and received an arm around my waist and a kiss on the top of my hat as the nose of the leaders crossed under the burled arch for the first time. We did it, we acheived our goal. I found myself embraced once again by the sense of overwhelming pride in musher and mutts that had been my companion at the starting line.

I would later be told that as AJ ran toward the burled arch that chants of "153! 153!" rang through the crowd, the number of my failed flight. Friends certainly are where you find them.

12 Days, 6 Hours, 8 Minutes, 3 Seconds

2011-03-18T23:45:00.005-08:00

AJ with Twig and Rory in lead along with Annabelle, Natty, Louisa Mae, Fritz, Charlie, Orion an the infamous wandering Whitey-Lance crossed the finish line under the burled arch in Nome after 12 days, 6 hours, 8 minutes and 3 seconds on the trail placing 39th in the 39th running of the Iditarod.

Amid the crowds, the interview, the photographs, official race protocol the first time finish included wagging tails, hugs and strokes for the dogs, and a reunion of musher and musher's wife. After a story of their time in the 2010 Iditarod that only the two of them, AJ and Whitey-Lance will know first hand they celebrated together as AJ picked up Whitey, held him above his head, touching paw to burled arch.

Musher and mutts are rookies no more...

Some facts: Leaving last out a field of sixty-two teams and starting with sixteen dogs, AJ and nine team members arrived under the burled arch at 9:08 p.m. on March 18, 2001 less than two minutes after the 38th placing team.

Nothing but Time

2011-03-12T17:19:00.007-09:00

Time has been a constant companion since the beginning of the race, a constant companion that takes different forms: the time on the trail between checkpoints between Iditarod then on the Yukon River and finally to the coast, ever aware of the time rested at each checkpoints, pulling all-nighters watching the team progress in fifteen minute increments.

While ever aware of the passing minutes and hours with the passing miles, the timeliness of events are also at the forefront of my thoughts, two in particular.

I had begun to despair in the sleepless, quite hours just after midnight as I watched the slowing pace of the team come to a stop. My stomach was in knots as I was reminded of the words of my dear friend, a marathon runner: the first and last stretches of a marathon are easy as one section brings with it the enthusiasm of starting and the other shows the light at the end of the tunnel. It is the middle section that is problematic, the enthusiasm miles behind and finish line many miles ahead. Team Snowhook was in the middle.

Plagued with the thoughts found in the middle, doubt of a 2011 finish started to hammer at the bricks and martar of my certainty. As I wandered the thoughts of the middle-lands, I received a phone call in the pre-dawn hours. “I went to bed last night worried and discouraged,” my mother began, no ‘good morning,’ no “hello,’ not pausing, she continued, “But this morning I woke up with the sense that everything would be alright and that the team will get to Nome.” The intuition given to my mother seems beyond that of other mother’s I know, and with her words the dust of doubt that had been my companion was swept away. I did not tell Coach that Bev called when he woke that morning, that phone call was for me and would brace me up for the next few hours until I would begin rebuild.

Hours later as I dwelled on my mother’s words I searched the daily Iditarod Insider videos to pass the time while watching the team’s progress along the trail. I saw the name “Savidis” in the title of one of the videos and was soon welcomed by AJ and an AJ look-alike on the screen. Both tall, both with a red beard, clad in black and in matching hats, AJ and Iditarod Insider cameraman, Jordan are often mistaken for the other---why not have a little fun with having a twin? After the two joked about their mistaken identities, AJ discussed the race. He voiced the same realizations that I had come to hours earlier: our race goals would be altered, the focus would be to finish with a happy, healthy team, the placing much less of a concern. I needed to hear his sleep-deprived words and see his exhausted smile, and with each replay of the video was strengthened---The team would reach Nome.

Iditarod: Miles to go before I Sleep

2011-03-11T09:42:00.002-09:00

Another sleepless night was spent watching the team's progress from Ophir to Iditarod, typically referred to as the half way point of the race. The team's pace slowed taking nearly twenty hours on this stretch. Watching his GPS tracker, it appears as though he offered extended rest to the dogs by camping a couple of times on the trail.

As I anxiously waited for the GPS tracker to update every fifteen minutes, I stole outside throughout the night and watched the kennel seeking disctraction. The norhtern lights, while not bright offered a glow and a distraction above the trees as I stood waiting.

I expect AJ will rest the team through the heat of the day at this checkpoint before moving onto Shageluk.

Slow and steady, Snowhook.

A Special Post to Chet's Corner of the World

2011-03-11T00:23:00.006-09:00

Introduced by a coworker to Bernie and Chet a few months ago when she loaned me Dog On It I fell into the pages with ease priding myself that I am somewhat fluent in Dog-eese. My heart howled with hurt and worry when Chet and Bernie found themselves separated with the recent and raw memory of our missing mutt.

Please consider yourselves friends of Snowhook. Welcome to the Kennel! Dog fur as an accessory is a given, but please wipe your paws before entering...

Best to you all,

RHS

Ophir: Backtracking and Back on Track

2011-03-10T14:30:00.000-09:00

Having assumed my race watching stance of hovering over my laptop staring at AJ's #63 flag on the GPS tracker once his twenty-four hour layover was complete, I noticed that just a few miles past the Ophir checkpoint AJ turned the team and started back the way he came. As I recalled with complete clarity last March as I watched AJ's GPS tracker turn back and forth along the map only later to receive a call that our race had gone awry, I started to shake. My throat tightened with heat.

And just as I did last year, I reached out to Karen and Frank Washington for comfort and reason. They offered kind words until what had quickly turned from the #63 flag to That Damn Dot started a steady course in the right direction. Just as quickly as he turned back toward Ophir, he re-ran the miles heading in the direction of Iditarod.

The story of the brief misdirection will have to wait for another day, yet the experience resulted in Coach deciding that me watching AJ's progress in the race could be a spectator sport. Funny to him, less funny to me; I am certain regain my sense of humor once the team reaches Nome.

If we are ranking my stress level by slices of cheesecake it was a two slice kind of a day---I am grateful it did not turn into a walking-around-with-a-fork-and-the-entire-cheesecake-on-a-plate kind of a day like last year.

Coach understands competition, and luckily expects little of me in the way of hosting my VIP house guest. He knows that I am on the trail with AJ; he lets me stress, he takes no offense when my response to a question is little more than a grunt, and he dismisses the hours I keep with a knowing smile---thanks, Coach.

Pie for Some, Cheesecake for Others: A Twenty-four Hour Layover

2011-03-10T10:19:00.002-09:00

Following a brief stop in McGrath, AJ and team enjoyed an extended stay in Takotna for a mandatory twenty-four hour layover. Mushers can rest their teams at their discretion along the trail, yet teams are required to take three layovers: a twenty-four hour layover taken at any checkpoint on the tralil, an eight hour layover taken on the Yukon River, and then another eight hour layover in White Mountain approximately seventy miles from Nome. Takotna is known for its hospitality as well as pies that mushers can dine on while the dogs rest.

While AJ spent twenty-four hours tending to the dogs, resting a trail wearied body, and likely consuming his fair share of pies I struggled to keep occupied. The house is clean, seven utility sleds of firewood were hauled from the shop to the house and stacked, Coach and I picked up Josephine, I worked, and I slept. After keeping musher's hours since the beginning of the race and pulling an all-nighter watching his run into McGrath, I slept the sleep of the exhausted. I needed this layover...

With the end of AJ's twenty-four hour layover, I return to a life lived in fifteen minute increments as I watch his GPS tracker online.

Leaving Takotna, AJ will pass through Ophir and camp on the trail to Iditarod to break up the seventy-seven mile stretch.

Run on, run on...

Welcoming Home Josephine, a Small Dog with Spirit

2011-03-09T21:34:00.002-09:00

In our corner of the world we have had a mystery on our hands since AJ left the Finger Lake checkpoint. Which dog was dropped and why? Jeremy and I speculated, but in the end we were wrong.

Josephine, of the Little Women litter and a dog with spirit greater than her small stature was sent home due to a sore triceps. Our little girl was sent home via Iditarod Airforce with a brief stop at the women's correctional facilitiy in Eagle River where dropped dogs receive care, love and belly rubs.

Coach and I were allowed through the gates to the area of the campus dedicated to the dropped dogs of the Iditarod where ten or twelve dogs were curled on straw and covered in blankets. At the sound of my voice two strawberry blond ears peeked out from under a blue fleece blanket followed by brown eyes and a white spotted muzzle, "Mama, is that you?"

By all accounts the petite pup is well hydrated with a healthy appetite. Once Josephine's caregivers were thanked and the paperwork signed, I slid my arms under Josephine to carry her to the car and received a kiss and wet nose on the cheek from my girl.

Her return to the kennel confirms her appetite and her spirits are high. She demanded attention worthy of an Iditarod finisher, and deservedly so.

Rest, heal and know that you are loved little one.

All Present and Accounted for in McGrath

2011-03-09T06:26:00.005-09:00

Sleep has not come, but relief has arrived along with the team into McGrath. I have spent the night dedicated to AJ's progress as the team traveled from Nikolai into McGrath, the same run last year that halted our dreams and focused our attention on one lost teammate.

I have prayed. I have paced. I have started to tend to overdue writing, but mostly I have reflected throughout the night on the events of one year ago. Gratitude and pride have been the dominant themes of my reflections.

Last year, as AJ focused on solving the problem of finding a lost dog, I remained home feeling useless and helpless in the efforts. I felt isolated. As I was signing a lease to dwell in the depths of despair, I was raised up by those close to me and many, many I do not know. Residents of McGrath and Iditarod volunteers rallied and supported AJ, Allen Moore provided assistance on the trail and for that we are forever grateful. In honor of two men that supported AJ in his search for Whitey-Lance we named two of W.L.'s sons Abe and Marco.

AJ had those in McGrath, resident or volunteer and I relied on many I will never meet. When I think of the kind words that were written, the prayers that were said from around the world and those who rallied when my spirits could not rise on their own, my heart is warmed.

The quaver in my voice measures on the Richter scale each time I try to verbalize how proud I am of the husband for daring to try again, to being committed to our goals. I am proud of the man and musher I, with all affection call AJ. I am equally proud of and in debt to the dogs that did as he asked as he turned the team back and forth, on and off the trail, again and again searching in the immediate hours after Whitey went missing.

With the full knowledge that anything can occur in any leg of the race, the mental hurdle of what McGrath signifies has been one I have needed to leap, and now that our team is into the checkpoint with all members present and accounted for I feel as though I can finally breathe an unrestricted breath.

AJ is on the move after a brief stay at the McGrath checkpoint; he plans to take his twenty-four hour layover in Takotna.

Sixty on the Snow & Two on the Runners

2011-03-09T02:47:00.002-09:00

Our fifteen dog, one musher team arrived in Nikolai this afternoon having made a long seventy-five mile push from Rohn taking nearly ten hours. Two strategies dominate this section of trail: make one long run, or break it up into smaller sections and camp along the way. Neither strategy is right or wrong as long as the musher, the coach calls the play according to the team's capabilities and the current conditions.

At the time of this post, Team Snowhook has left Nikolai and is running toward McGrath, the end of the road for our team last year as Whitey-Lance was on a solo trek. Whitey knows this part of the trail and surrounding area well enough having traveled it on his own, yet for me sleep seems impossible until the team reaches McGrath...

The Truth to Old Wives' "Tails"

2011-03-07T22:58:00.002-09:00

It is said that a watched pot never boils, yet it could also be said that a tracked team does not mush.

Maybe it was my sleep deprived state or that Coach and I had not eaten anything more than Bev's carmel popcorn he brought with him from Utah, but no matter how much we willed it, the #63 flag on the GPS tracker seemed to remain stationary and the official updates seemed delayed.

To pass the time, we eventually saw reason and went to the store to procure provisions for our race watching festivities. Cheesecake, the official race watching food of Snowhook Kennel was first on our supply list. When it seemed like the #63 flag's GPS would never move and the first bite of cheesecake would have to be consumed, the GPS tracker updated to show AJ and team on the trail moving toward the Rainy Pass checkpoint.

Spending nearly four hours resting at the Finger Lake checkpoint, a dog was dropped before AJ began the Chutes and Ladders run that lay before him between Finger Lake and Rohn. According to reports, the Steps, a notoriously nasty section on the trail waged war against the teams today resulting in bruised and broken mushers and sleds; the win/loss column is still being tallied...

No word yet on which dog we will welcome home ahead of schedule, yet if we had to lay money on it, Jeremy and I believe it might be Natty. Luckily, Jeremy and I are not betting against each other because being AJ's Iditarod handlers does not pay all that well...

The team left the Rainy Pass checkpoint after a three and a half hour rest and are currently on the trail to Rohn.

Sixteen out of Skwentna and into Finger Lake

2011-03-07T09:56:00.002-09:00

Musher and dogs ran into and rested at the Skwentna checkpoint last night. Arriving shortly after 1030, the team rested and left in the pre-dawn hours shortly before four o'clock.

Watching the GPS tracker on Iditarod Insider (a pass time that has proven to be almost as addictive as having sled dogs) shows that AJ is into the Finger Lake checkpoint, 108 miles into the race. Likely, he will rest the team at Finger Lake during the heat of the day before making the Chutes & Ladders run into Rainy Pass and then onto Rohn.

At the time of this post, the official race standing haven't updated to show him checking into Finger Lake, but like the pups, I need to get some sleep.

~RHS

Starting Line Images

2011-03-06T22:04:00.004-09:00

Coach, AJ, Rebecca and Jeremy pose for one of the few well-behaved pictures early on the morning of the Ceremonial Start.

AJ and Rebecca along with precious cargo, Iditarider Carol Comeau wait to pull the snowhook at the Ceremonial Start. Carol is the Superintendent of the Anchorage School District.

AJ talks with Annabelle, one of his main leaders before pulling the snowhook at the Ceremonial Start.

And now, a word from our sponsors---this race wouldn't have been possible without sponsorships from individuals as well as businesses that know what it is to have a goal.

Frank and Karen Washington pose with Rebecca only after Frank fluffed his official handler's hat.

AJ and Jeremy, our 2011 season handler sharing a tender moment as we wait for our time to head to the starting line at the Ceremonial Start.

Paul Lowe, who helped the team train last year keeps things low key with AJ as we pass the time in Anchorage.

Last to leave, the team runs the streets of Anchorage during the Ceremonial Start.

Nome or Bust: The Race Begins

2011-03-06T20:06:00.012-09:00

Pleading that I would not embarrass him, AJ watched as I cut and sewed a special dog jacket for Whitey-Lance the night before the Ceremonial Start. The red and white striped jacket, easy to spot if one is lost was finished with a note requesting the aid of anyone who found themselves to be a finder. Out of love, or perhaps resigning himself to the situation, AJ humored me and Whitey sported the jacket on the eleven mile run in Anchorage.

Last year we sightlessly navigated the unknown norms of the Ceremonial Start in Anchorage and the Restart, the real start in Willow the following day. This year was different; our new to us truck did not break down on the drive into Anchorage or threaten to do so on the return trip home, and Whitey-Lance drew a crowd. We were hopeful about the truck, but awestruck at the crowds wanting to photograph our dear dogs.

Having drawn bib #63, our team was the last to leave Saturday and today giving us plenty of time to visit with race fans, enjoy the time with the kennel's pit crew made up of those from our banquet table and rounded out with Jay and Marcia Gould and their friend Wendy.

We were honored to have Carol Comeau, the superintendent of the Anchorage School District as our VIP Idita-rider courtesy of Exxon Mobil. Carol was introduced first hand to Frank, the dog not the handler's lack of manners as he criss-crossed back and forth across the gang line.

Race fans and spectators, sprinkled with friends along the trail of the Ceremonial Start called well wished as we passed. Whitey-Lance fans came by our dog truck on both Saturday and Sunday to wish the team well and give Whitey some well placed advice about staying with the team. Joan Unger, a long time Iditarod volunteer made her way to us at the Restart for an introduction; I knew Joan by name as a friend of the kennel, yet was pleased to meet her along with others who followed Snowhook's journey.

Signaled by race volunteers that our time had come to make the stop and go path to the starting line, AJ and I hopped on the runners, and our pit crew took their places. With a two minute countdown in the starting chute, AJ left me on the brake and runners while he tended to the some of the dogs on the line. Chatting with the four men holding the sled, I heard the announcer ask the crowd to join him in counting down the last team to leave in the 2011 Iditarod. Ten...nine...eight...at the count of five AJ's size thirteens replaced my size sixes on the runners, leaned down for one last kiss...two...one and AJ lifted the brake and headed toward Nome.

After the long wait of today, and an even longer path to the starting line this year, I was overcome with pride in AJ and the dogs. Needing an isolated moment of gratitude and reflection, I grabbed the poop shovel and bucket and started to clean the surrounding ice of the misdeeds of the teams around us; few things ensure people looking the other way like the chore I was undertaking. Called out of my thoughts but the pit crew I returned to the truck for yet one more thank you for everything they have done for Snowhook Kennel.

It is unlikely that many mushers had a shorter commute than we did for the restart, so when AJ said he was taking the snow machine home while we waited I did not give it a second thought. Not accustomed to all the attention, perhaps he went home for respite, or maybe he forgot something, but when I went into the bedroom this evening I found a note on my pillow...my man, my man.

One Checkpoint Down, Many to Go

2011-03-06T20:06:00.006-09:00

Coach, my father and I find ourselves sitting shoulder to shoulder on the couch, feet propped on the coffee table, and laptop atop my lap religiously staring at AJ's GPS tracker on Iditarod Insider while we subsist on Bev's carmel popcorn (thanks, mom).

While Coach and I find ourselves on the couch, AJ and team have found their way to Yentna Station, the first of many checkpoints along the Iditarod Trail and currently in 41st place according the race standings. Yentna signals that the first forty-two miles of the race are complete. The team's average speed for this stretch was just over 12mph, spending three hours and thirty-eight minutes on the trail. Likely, he will will not spend much time in this checkpoint before making his way to Skwentna, the next checkpoint at sixty-eight miles.

Drawing bib #63 may change his approach for the first couple of days in the race. Leaving last presents the likelihood that the trail will be a bit shredded having sixty-one teams ahead of our dogs. Go team go!

The Starting Line-up

2011-03-06T17:33:00.002-09:00

AJ will be joined on the trail by:

Annabelle (AJ's main leader)
Rory (leader)
Tomboy (leader)
Twig (leader)
Quigley (leader)
Elim (leader)
Orion
Whitey-Lance (the one and only)
Natty
Jesse
Frank
Younger
Lousia Mae
Josephine
Fritz
Charlie
Dog bios can be found at http://snowhookkennelteam.blogspot.com/

Dressing for the Occasion: Whitey-Lance at the Ceremonial Start

2011-03-05T17:45:00.002-09:00

Clad in a Where's Waldo inspired dog jacket with a note attached that reads, "Hi, My name is Whitey-Lance. If you find me please return me to Snowhook Kennel. Thanks, W.L." Whitey greeted his fans and posed for several pictures. We were not prepared for the amount of attention that Whitey-Lance (or That Damn Dog as I affectionately call him since the incident) received from race fans.

Staying with the team seems a constant theme amongst the kind words and pep talks our wandering dog received from friends, fans and strangers. This too, will be the constant prayer in my heart...stay with the team, bud, stay with the team...

Coach Rides the Runners

2011-03-04T20:28:00.000-09:00

Coach, Rebecca's father arrived at the Anchorage airport for round two of Snowhook's Iditarod goals. Rebecca arrived at the airport to pick up Coach with the coat in hand---the same coat as last year that he refused to part with even when warming by the fire. Karen Washington, Coach's Iditarod buddy gave strict instructions that Coach bring his Christmas gift of bright orange gloves with him or risk being sent back to Utah.

After some convincing, Coach apprehensively stood on the runners today with the promise that the trail ahead was straight and smooth...smooth, yes but not exactly straight. With AJ and Rebecca on the sled and after three miles over the trail Coach took a seventy-five degree turn like a pro.

Like last year, Coach made the journey from the lower forty-eight to support his favorite musher-in-law through all the pre-race activities and cheer him on at the starting line. Coach will also spend some quality time with Rebecca hovering around the computer watching AJ's GPS tracker move across the screen in fifteen minute increments.

Coach, coming from a collegiate athletic background can best be described as Snowhook's booster club. His support means more than he realizes.

Frank's Fur Hat: A Token of Gratitude

2011-03-04T07:12:00.006-09:00

Sometimes gratitude cannot be expressed with words. When words fail, let a hat do the talking. Frank and Karen Washington have stood solidly in Snowhook's corner ever since I sat in Karen's office over six years ago, new to Alaska and interviewing for a job.

For all their support and friendship, we have little to offer in return, but last year when Frank good-naturedly proclaimed himself the Best Handler in the World, our path to a small token of gratitude was made clear. The path was made even clearer when Frank purchased a hat causing Karen to disown him in public as long as the hat adorned his head.

In addition to the ritual of drawing bib numbers at the musher's banquet prior to the race, we had an agenda item of our own. After AJ drew his bib number we presented Frank, the Best Handler in the World with a full-fledged fur bomber hat just as many mushers wear as they stand on the runners. The following proclamation accompanied the hat:

Whereas, in 2004 what would one day become Snowhook Kennel made acquaintance with Frank and Karen Washington who were to become two of the Kennel's biggest fans;

Whereas, persistence is crucial in gaining sponsorships as is short of going door-to-door shaking a tin can until a donation is given;

Whereas, any rookie musher's cheering section should consist of more than the wife and the father-in-law of said rookie because, among other reasons a two person wave lacks luster;

Whereas, when experienced handlers are late to the starting line, the man in the yellow coat leaps into action to find himself putting booties on sixty-four feet of his new closest four-legged friends, harnessing the canine athletes and leading the team to the starting line;

Whereas, a medallion of protection should always be held close to the heart in the pocket of the musher;

Whereas, the constant checking of race stats quickly develops into a Pavlov-ian compulsion;

Whereas, when a dog goes missing prayers are said by a few for a safe return until word is spread to more, then to many, then across the world;

Whereas, when a sled dog team arrives at the airport less musher and missing dog, strong muscles lift the dogs into the truck and words of comfort lift an aching spirit;

Whereas, money slipped into a palm before a broke, hungry (but happy) musher leaves on a thousand mile race is the only thank you he has to offer those who helped search for the missing dog;

Whereas, every handler needs a hat befitting his grandeur that does not embarrass his wife;

Whereas, words fail at the kindness, monetary support, enthusiasm and friendship given;

THEREFORE BE IT RESOLVED, that Angry Jesus and Rebecca Savidis of Snowhook Kennel do hereby proclaim Frank Washington the Best Handler in the World on this day March 3, 2011.

Frank, the dog somehow found himself wearing Frank, the Best Handler's official handling hat at the Ceremonial start in Anchorage.

The Musher's Banquet: Last but not Least

2011-03-03T23:18:00.000-09:00

Joined by friends and supporters (one in the same) Coach, Frank and Karen Washington, Mick and Jodi Oxenrider, Paul Lowe, Nora Conner and Jeremy Ruthledge we attended the musher's banquet where we talked, joked and laughed as we waited for AJ to go to the stage and draw his bib number.

Each of the individuals at our table played a significant role in our ability to reach the starting line of the 2011 Iditarod. Coach, referred to as the kennel booster has made the trip to Alaska the past two years to cheer for AJ, among other things the Washingtons and Oxenriders have given friendship and helped with fund raising, and Mick is the official welder of the kennel. Nora politely listens as Rebecca talks on and on about dogs, Paul trained with the team last year and Jeremy is the official poop scooping, bucket carrying, don't-lose-my-team handler of the 2010/2011 season. We are grateful for each of the individuals that make up the Snowhook Kennel team and tomorrow's pit crew.

In a field of sixty-two mushers with one honorary musher, AJ did not draw his number until late in the evening having been late to enter the race. Jodi and Rebecca stood near the stage, cameras in hand as we waited for AJ to step up and draw his number. As his name was called cheers and whoops could be heard from the direction of our table as could cries of, "Angry Jesus," "Best Rookie Ever," and then Paul's deep voice thundered, "I love you! I want to have your baby!" With the last shout, Jody and Rebecca giggled---what else was there to do? And then, AJ drew his bib number...

Sixty-three. Dead last. Not what we we hoping to draw.

Somehow we both had a feeling that AJ would draw this number, we even joked about it at the table...perhaps some things really are better left unsaid.

Pulling sixty-three offers some disadvantages, some obvious, but when you start last there is no where to go bu up.

Better than a First Place Finish?

2011-02-20T23:35:00.003-09:00

"It felt like being hunted," AJ confirmed what Rebecca suspected when asked about what it felt like on the trail knowing that he might win. In the last several miles of the Don Bowers race, originally planned to be a 200 mile race but shortened to 120 miles due to unsafe trail conditions, AJ knew that Varan Hoyt of Black and Blue Kennel was on the chase.

Run your own race---this has been said time and again by musher to musher as a bit of pre-race advice. It is solid advice. Yet when running this close to the finish line in first place with the second place team so close, you run the race of the team behind you.

Looking over his shoulder, AJ could see the headlamp of the team behind him giving him a gauge of the distance, ever closing between the two teams. Knowing that the headlamp offered a target to which Varan could aim, AJ turned his headlamp off one last time and ran the remaining miles in the dark.

Having watched the race stats throughout the night, Rebecca knew the race would end soon. As Jeremy and Rebecca climbed into the dog truck to drive to the finish line on that early Saturday morning, AJ was listed in first place. Could he hold onto the lead? A lot can happen between checkpoints.

Knocking on the window of the Eagle Quest checkpoint, the final checkpoint AJ alerted the race officials to his presence. Setting the snowhook to tend to the dogs, the team lunged, climbed onto the deck and tried to make their way into the B&B that served as the finish line.

When Rebecca and Jeremy arrived we set to work taking off harnesses and booties, giving hugs and belly rubs as the dogs preferred before loading the team members into the dog truck. The priority tended to and not wanting to assume anything, Rebecca whispered to AJ, "Did you win?" Coming in six minutes before the second place team, Snowhook Kennel celebrated the first place finish with a hug between musher and wife and then some well deserved sleep.

A few days later, we attended the musher's banquet at Sheep Creek Lodge. Mushers were recognized and congratulated for their finishing places in the race. Following AJ's acceptance of his first place finish, it was announced that the Humanitarian Award was yet to be given. AJ, Rebecca and Jeremy sat in silence when AJ's name was announced as the recipient of the award given for exceptional dog care. First place ain't bad, not bad at all, but the Humanitarian Award is the bigger honor for our kennel.

The following weekend, we found ourselves at another starting line. The Willow Tug 300, a new race and a sanctioned qualifier for the Iditarod drew twenty-four teams to the starting line. Given the trail conditions, the race was rerouted leaving teams to run two loops from Yentna Station to achieve the necessary miles.

Having discovered the week before that mini chocolate eclairs make satisfactory race watching rations, Rebecca assumed her post watching race stats throughout the day and into the night. Watching AJ complete each loop and begin the leg bound for the finish line, Rebecca and Jeremy once again headed to collect the team after another race run.

With Lefty, our white with one black ear dog from the Outlaw litter riding atop the sled, hood ornament style, AJ crossed the finish line in 8th place. For a new race on the dog mushing circuit, the Willow Tug boasted several prizes as part of the purse. Coming one week after Rebecca finished sewing and repairing nearly thirty dog jackets, AJ received twenty dog jackets for his 8th place finish.

AJ rests on the couch following 120 miles on the trail. Tenzing climbed atop musher to recover from the time he spent napping while Rebecca watched the race stats.

My Howard, My Heart

2011-02-20T17:25:00.001-09:00

Seemingly driven by a sense of and dedication to routine, each night Howard enters our home, climbs the stairs and finds one of three dog pillows. He circles, he lays and he rests his head. He sleeps.

Perhaps driven by the same sense of routine, each night before I climb into my own bed I kneel next to Howard on his pillow. I stroke his ear and softly pray. The prayer is always the same. I pray that he will have a good night, that he might have a good day. I express my gratitude for the day he found me and ask that he will know he is loved and treasured.

I sleep in two hour increments to tend to Howard throughout the night. Though I am exhausted, I am his caregiver and he is my heart.

-RHS

Howard asleep on one of his pillows; there are times when you just have a paw over the nose kind of a day...

It Begins...Again...

2011-01-05T23:17:00.005-09:00

Time on the runners and dogs on the trail...check
Label drop bags...check
Make dog blankets... check
Repair sled...check
Sew after market modifications to AJ's mushing parka...check
Spend quality time with sewing machine repairing dog jackets...check---without insulting the sewing machine...un-check

Down to the Wire: The 2011 Starting Line is in Sight

2010-12-01T22:43:00.003-09:00

We spent many sleepless nights plotting, planning and worrying how we could raise the $4,000 entrance fee for the 2011 Iditarod. We saved, we sacrificed and we sold non-essentials. The entrance fee remained out of reach, yet with the support from fans and friends of the kennel we screeched to the deadline to enter the Last Great Race hours before the entrance window closed.

Snowhook Kennel's 2011 Iditarod entrance fee was made possible by:

Corporate Sponsors:
Alaska Executive Search
Wallace Insurance Group
Sunrise Grill & Pancake House

Individual Sponsors:
Coach & Bev Haun
Matt Keortge
Karen & Frank Washington
Nora Conner
Cody & Kelly Olson
Jen & Dan White
Cindy Bilbo
Jay Gould & Family
Mike Saunders
Jiacalone Family
Geoffrey & Beth Athey
Mark Atkins
Mick & Jodi Oxenrider

Thank you doesn't seem adequate...

Shameless: Warm Puppies & 2010/2011 Season Sponsorships

2010-10-31T20:52:00.005-08:00

To make the 2010/2011 season happen we have to be shameless. We are seeking at least 100 individual sponsorships of at least $50 each for the upcoming 2010 / 2011 race season. Sponsorships will go toward race entrance fees, dog care and feeding, and in general, making the 2010/2011 season possible.

We are also excited to announce that we will donate 5% of all individual sponsorships made between now and November 30, 2010 to Alaska Dog and Puppy Rescue (http://www.akdogandpuppyrescue.com/), a nonprofit who is dedicated to rescuing and finding homes for the homeless dogs of Alaska.

Know someone who might be interested in sponsoring the kennel AND helping homeless pups and dogs? Feel free to spread the word.

We sincerely thank you in advance for your support! The team is made up of more than the dogs on the line and the musher on the runners.

Sponsorships can be made on-line via PayPal at the Donate button on the right side of the page under Individual Sponsorships or sent to:

Justin & Rebecca Savidis
P.O. Box 1179
Willow, Alaska 99688

Running Down the Dream: Iditarod 2011

2010-10-26T22:43:00.004-08:00

If you know us well, you know that we don't give up easily especially on unrealized goals. One word---Iditarod. It's plagued us since Whitey-Lance's safe return. It's been the constant nag in the back of our minds.

With a busy summer that included 18 hour work days, travel for work, a laptop that died a not so glorious death (hence our absence from all things blog---we're back now thanks to help from a friend) we asked ourselves the same questions over and over. Should we do Itidarod this year? Yes, if the Race Gods shine on us. Could we make it work? It will take everything we have, but how can we not try? The answers to the questions always led us to the same trail. And, with that, the training began, the planning started and the saving for the entrance fee became all consuming. The end of November is fast approaching to make another go at this dream.

Post Script: Whitey-Lance has been training with the first-string team in hopes that he'll suit up for game day again. That damn dog...

The Angry Deity and his Beautiful Wife go to an Auction

2010-09-29T22:27:00.007-08:00

Picture it---Anchorage, 2010: We arrived early and inspected the trucks up for bid at the State Surplus Auction. Having done a fair bit of preliminary truck hunting, we thought we would try our luck at the auction. Before the auction started we looked the different trucks over---one had a non-existent trasmission, another had only one gear which isn't bad if you are quite fond of said gear, one truck was beautiful, shiny and in great condition if you didn't mind that it is missing it's passenger side, on and on it went. We waited patiently in the cold and in the rain and then it was time. Our lot number of interest was called.

Would we bid $3000? No. Would anyone bid $2500? Nope. $1000, $750, $500---yes to the $500! Soon a bidding war ensued between the handsome, angry deity and his beautiful wife and another party, a faceless nemesis hidden in the crowd. We had a budget mainly set by our unwillingness to assume a car loan and more importantly, the amount Rebecca was willing to ask Coach to front until we receive our Permanent Fund Dividend (thank heaven for small favors and adoring fathers). The bidding war threatened our max, and then, then our faceless nemesis stopped bidding. Would we take it the auctioneer questioned---no need to ask us twice. And with that, the truck was ours. Old, ugly and ours.

Later, as we inspected our treasure, the beautiful wife much more excited about the 1993 Ford F350 crew cab complete with old truck smell (usually not part of the standard package in newer models) than the angry deity, we were congratulated by auction goers on the deal we made. What the truck lacks in a rear bumper it makes up for with a fair share of scratches, dings, dents, low miles, and did we mention the old truck smell?

If the truck (he'll get named soon---not by AJ, but by Rebecca. AJ squandered his rights to name anything inanimate or otherwise years ago for the cost of a kayak---Rebecca clearly made the better deal) lasts for a year we will have earned our money's worth. No truck payment means saving up for race entrance fees.

Sometimes Your Pony Just Won’t Go

2010-09-27T22:13:00.004-08:00

It was a matter of time and despite our best hopes we knew that the day was coming sooner rather than later. Today, we were forced to call the time of death on our dog truck. Cruising down the highway, the truck had a final "take this job and shove it" moment. The truck called it quits, and AJ called Rebecca to pick him up on the side of the highway.

Two weeks ago AJ called and said he thought it best to stop by a mechanic on his way home. With Luna and her dog, Belle Starr in tow, AJ waited in the waiting room while the mechanics took a look under the hood. He waited. And waited. And waited. After three hours, the mechanic told him to take a seat---insert foreshadowing here. After careful inspection the truck needed extensive work to make it worthy of the road. The cost outweighing the value of the truck Rebecca asked AJ if the mechanic laughed when he gave him the news. No, but they did offer Luna and Belle Starr some food scraps.

We had a decision to make. Sink funds into fixing the old truck or start truck shopping. Reluctant to go into debt for a truck, we've been going back and forth about what path to take. Our dog truck makde the final decision. Now, the truck hunting begins.

The truck made the journey with us along the Alcan Highway, made the conversion to a dog truck, broke down but held on, and in it's final act of daring got the team to the Iditarod Ceremonial Start in Anchorage. Just barely.

Legends of a Leader: More on Fargo

2010-09-19T21:35:00.006-08:00

Gut Instinct and Fairy Tale Endings: I learned to follow my gut instinct and turn command of the team over to Fargo when I first started running dogs. I headed out with a small team one evening intending to do a short run. The run was going according to plan when we were hit by a rare wind storm in Willow. I couldn't see. I called out the right command on the wrong trail which led to a trail system I didn't know too well. Rookie mistake. Fargo reluctantly followed each command as I tried to find my way to familiar territory; this was unlike him. Finally, cold and frustrated I set the snowhook, walked to the front of the team, bent to Fargo and said, "It's your team now. Get us home." He knew the way. Disney couldn't have written it better. Within minutes we were on a trail I knew by heart and home within the hour. My trust in Fargo was solidified.

Built to Last: Low snowfall a few years back left the wolves hungry and more daring than normal. Several domestic dogs had been attacked close to Anchorage by wolves. On a Sunday run, AJ noticed a lone wolf on the trail, and the next day as we headed to work we thought we saw a lone wolf on the bluff near the highway. We returned home that evening to find Fargo bloodied in battle. He was torn from ear to ear, his chest open. No other dogs showed signs of a fight, yet there was blood leaving the kennel heading into the woods. Fargo, stiched and resting, we speculated with our neighbors about what must have occurred. A wolf attack was the consensus. Thinking out loud, I questioned if the wolf somehow knew that Fargo was the alpha of the kennel; there were two dogs between the entrance of the kennel and Fargo, neither were harmed. Our neighbor responded, "Knowing Fargo, he probably stepped up and told the wolf, 'If you're going to pick on anyone it's going to be me." We were certain that this might be the end of Fargo's running career. Fargo was certain it was not. As usual, he would not be denied. Later that same season, he led AJ to a third place finish in the Don Bowers 300 mile race.

It's Good to be King: In addition to his status as alpha and leader, Fargo is known for his way with the ladies. The few intact females we have want to be bred by the alpha to the point of escaping the heat pen to engage in more than conversation with Fargo. He is always more than willing to oblige. Despite his efforts to repopulate the world, Fargo could not be replicated. He was one of a kind.

A short time before his death, Fargo and Rowdy were enjoying the obligatory marking of every tree and blade of grass that takes place each evening while I tend to chores. Tending to my evening duties, I noticed out of the corner of my eye a black mass speeding through the air toward Morgan, a female in heat. A quick turn of my head and I knew the black mass was the one and only Fargo jumping through the air, ready to engage with Morgan upon landng on her house where she innocently stood. "Fargo! No!" I cried. He landed on the ground instead of his preferred target. "What's the point of being king if you can't do what you want? Makes no sense at all," he seemed to grumble as he strode away giving me sideways glances. Grumble, grumble.

Life is Full of Ups and Downs: Uphill or downhill, it didn't matter. Fargo loved hills, the steeper and more twisting the better. Going up Corral Hill, a steep hill in Willow a few years ago we passed a much bigger team whose musher was off the runners and pushing the sled, as I enjoyed a leisurely ride on the runners. Fargo's pick up in pace was always appreciated going up hill, but my knuckles paled to bright white and I became more religious as we made our approach to go down Corral Hill with Fargo in lead.

This ain't no Sunday Drive: Four-wheeler training takes place every fall. One frigid, fall day with little snow on the ground the team made it's way on our training trails with Fargo in his usual and only position---lead. From a distance we noticed a small team heading our direction. We would eventually be forced to do a head-on pass with the team. Fargo was pro with head-on passes and couldn't bare the idea of ruining his perfect record. He had high standards. The small team approached ours, "On by!" AJ commanded unnecessarily as far as Fargo was concerned. On by they were going when the oncoming team tried to engage Fargo in play and tom-foolery. Denied. Fargo barked once, but the commanding bark stated to the other team that he was working and not out for a Sunday drive.

Anything Worth Doing is Worth Doing Right: My first trip on the runners following my back surgery was nothing but stressful. Fear, doubt, and physical changes left me running a small, slow team on a short run. With AJ on the team ahead of mine, and Fargo in lead on my team I was in good hands. Trusting in Fargo to lead my small team of B-team dogs including a couple of sometime sled dogs (i.e., Luna and her dog Belle Starr) we pulled the snowhook and hit the trails. Settling into the run, the memory of the runners beneath my feet, and rediscovering the balancing act of making a turn I noticed a moose crossing the trail ahead of AJ's team. Fargo noticed, too. I watched as the Outlaws, yearlings then on AJ's team veer off the trail interested in the large moose heading off into the trees. Deciding that this behavior would not be tolerated, Fargo glanced over his shoulder with his piercing baby blues, barked the commanding bark that was unmistakable over the years, "you may not do this every day, but we're going to do it right!" he seemed to instruct. With that, each of the dogs put their heads down, even first time sled dog Belle Starr, and passed by the moose as if they were pros. Classic Fargo.

Still missing him,

RHS

A Pack without its Alpha: The Passing of Fargo

2010-09-12T09:57:00.004-08:00

Fargo: June 1999 - September 8, 2010

He looked into my eyes with the clarity of complete understanding. "It's time for your to go. I love you," were the last words I spoke to Fargo. He exhaled, and foolishly I waited for him to inhale. He did not.

I had been sitting with Fargo for several hours on Wednesday, September 8, 2010. I was stiff from sitting on the ground. I was cold and wet, but I could not leave him in his final hours. I sang his song to him over and over. Built to Last by the Grateful Dead was a song I coupled with Fargo long ago, a song that seemed to be written for my time with him, especially our last moments together. I've never been able to picture the kennel without Fargo, without it's alpha. I recounted several of Fargo's stories to him, many of which are legendary. Finally, I prayed that he would be able to pass quickly, without pain, and with full knowledge of how much I loved him and appreciated him, and within ten minutes he lay lifeless in my arms.

It had been a long few days of tending to Fargo. Sitting with him until late in the night, checking on him first thing in the morning. Trying to make him as comfortable as possible. Just a few days ago he was in fine form, and then stopped eating and started sleeping more. It was as if he decided, "Well, I've had a good run," and in true Fargo fashion added, "Actually, I've had many good runs. Hell, they were great if I had anything to do with it." It seems like he decided to move onto the next leg of the race, leading the way before the rest of us.

Fargo was a born leader, he was my main leader. We were his fourth kennel and by all accounts, he never ran in any position other than lead. He came into the kennel along with Annabelle, Bridger, Tomboy, Rowdy and Patsy Anne (deceased), and he was quickly established as the alpha. There was no campaign to determine the pecking order. It was understood. It was given. It was never questioned.

Also from the start, Fargo adored me, and I adored him. He tolerated AJ, and for me that was part of his charm. He would do anything I asked. Gee!---very well, gee it is. Haw!---no need to ask twice. With AJ, Fargo would do the opposite of what AJ wanted. It was a test. They seemed to be locked in a battle of wills from the beginning of who was actually in charge. In the end, they did respect each other.

It was all about respect with Fargo. If he didn't respect you, well, all I can say is, "Best of luck,"---the same thing I've said to anyone who worked with Fargo. A few years ago, we had a fellow help us with the dogs. Unknown to Eric, I stood on the deck watching as he harnessed a small team with Fargo in lead. The team was hooked on the line, pounding their harnesses, barking and ready to go. Eric made his way to the sled, pulled the quick release and called out an un-authoritative, "Let's go!" With that, Fargo sat down. The rest of the team as ready as they were to run followed suit, all sitting quietly. Eric continued with, "Come on Fargo, I thought we were friends." His voice quavered. They weren't going to go anywhere anytime soon without intervention. From my perch on the deck I called, "Fargo, ready!" The team stood. "Let's go!" The team took off. The team would follow Fargo anywhere.

On Wednesday as I tended to Fargo, Rowdy stayed with me. He rested his chin on my shoulder and watched Fargo sleep, or he sat on the other side of Fargo just watching. As Fargo had a mild seizure, Rowdy tried to hold him still by resting his head on Fargo's belly. As I held Fargo's body, his spirit now gone, Rowdy hung his head and nuzzled under my chin catching my tears in his fur. "I don't understand, mama. Please explain." Rowdy may not fully understand what happened, but he understands the pain of love.

I'm thankful for the calm I felt as he passed and the reverence that seemed to fall over the kennel. I don't feel like I have any tears left. I feel dry, yet as soon as I think I have a grasp on my emotions, I find myself tearless but gasping for breath. It hurts. As I was feeling foolish for hurting so much, I received the following kind words from my dear friend Carol White who knows what it is to grieve: "You know what I think I am learning that the depth of grieving has a lot to do with the depth of the connection and less to do with what role they played. Child, dog, parent, friend, if you loved them deeply and they were a large part of your life, the grief is intense. I also know that we are not comfortable, most of us, with seeing people grieve deeply. So if someone comments on how intense your grief is for your dog and that Fargo was a dog and not a person, then most likely they have never lost a person, or animal or relationship that they loved deeply."

Fargo wasn't just a good dog. He was a great dog. I am grateful to have been with him as he passed onto his next adventure.

Built to Last - Grateful Dead

There are times when you can beckon,

There are times when you must call.

You can take a lot of reckoning,

But you can't take it all.

There are times when I can help you out,

And times when you must fall.

There are times when you must live in doubt

And I can't help at all.

Three blue stars rise on the hill

Say no more now just be still

All these trials soon be past

Look for something built to last

A wind held by the collar,

Yes, a cloud held by the breeze

You can walk on coals of fire

But sometimes you must freeze

There are times when you offend me

And I do the same to you

If we can't or won't forget it

I guess we could be through

One blue star sets on a hill

Call it back you never will

One more star sinks in the past

Show me something built to last

Built to last till time itself falls tumbling from the wall

Built to last till sunshine fails and darkness moves on all

Built to last while years roll past like cloudscapes in the sky

Show me something built to last and something built to try

There are time when you get hit upon

Try hard but you cannot give

Other times you'd gladly part

With what you need to live

Don't waste your breath to save your face

When you have done your best

And even more is asked of you

Fate will decide the rest

All the stars are gone but one

Morning breaks here comes the sun

Cross the sky now sinking fast

Show me something built to last

Lost,

It’s a Bird, It’s a Plane---No, It’s Trent Howard Whatshisname!

2010-05-02T14:41:00.006-08:00

Each evening a tired dog sleeps on the Superman pillow in the living room, snoring softly and curled by the fire. And, when AJ and Rebecca head to bed, the same dog is guided upstairs to a blue fleece dog pillow. Snoring and curled. It’s not Tenzing.

His name is Howard, Trent Howard Whatshisname for long. He is Rebecca’s stray and her heart. For the past two years Howard has wintered with a neighbor, but he is now back home for good. Rebecca couldn’t be happier---AJ is the first to admit that Howard is definitely Rebecca’s dog---he found her over three years ago and it was love at first sight for both.

Despite Tenzing’s ailments he has offered up his homemade pillows for Howard’s hospice. Age before beauty… For his troubles, Tenz has taken up a permanent postion on the couch.

http://snowhookkennel.blogspot.com/2008/01/trent-howard-whatshisnamebut-his.html

No Worse for Wear: Update on Tenzing’s Trial Run: We were welcomed home with a dirty look from Tenzing every night this week, the kind of look that says “this is not the high standard of living I’ve become accustomed to.” Another vet appointment is scheduled for later this week.

2010-04-24T14:36:00.002-08:00

Fan up: Snowhook Kennel is now on Facebook

Tenz's Trial Run

2010-04-24T14:33:00.003-08:00

Losing six pounds in a month’s time, more than 10% of his body weight, Tenzing had additional medication added to his regimen and the dosage of one of his prescriptions decreased in our vet appointment earlier this week. Aside from the weight loss Tenz’s paws and nose are on the mend and his energy level is picking up. The possibility that we may eventually have to have the "quality of life" conversation came up, but for now we're statying positive.

With a thumbs up from the vet, we will have a trial run leaving Tenzing in the kennel during the day. This will be the first time Rebecca and her bud Tenz will have spent more than an hour or two apart since Tenzing first became sick over a month ago; the separation will probably be more difficult for Rebecca. Tenzing is the gee to Rebecca’s haw.

Another appointment with the vet, Tenzing’s new best friend provided there isn’t a thermometer involved is scheduled in another two weeks.

Whitey's Trail Tale: Rough Draft Writing

2010-04-18T14:13:00.004-08:00

Some dogs like Annabelle and Twig slept curled, covered in their dog blanket as they waited for Whitey-Lance to return. Some played with their friends, and others rolled around in their straw.

Orion, however passed the time considering possibilities for his Halloween costume. Maybe he could be a ghost, or perhaps a tent. He couldn’t decide.

Noticing his indecision, Natty called, “Tents are slimming and go with everything.”

Tending to Tenzing Continues

2010-04-18T12:11:00.003-08:00

If you’re going to do something, don’t do it half way. True to Snowhook’s ways, Tenzing’s ailments aren’t taking a half-way approach. In our last appointment with the vet, we were told the severity of Tenz’s autoimmune disease is so rare the vet doubts that he’ll see another case like it for another ten years. The side effects of the medication are similar to worsening symptoms of the disease; it’s a tough call which is which.

Tenzing can walk a bit now, he has a Rebecca-like appetite (read voracious), and the pads on his paws are starting to grow back. This is good. His energy level is low, his eyes have started to bother him, and his breathing seems labored at times. This is not so good. Another visit with the vet is scheduled for later this week.

For now, we are vigilant in monitoring Tenzing’s health, his every move. Clad in booties to protect his tender paws, Tenzing goes everywhere with Rebecca.

Before he was Famous...

2010-04-03T19:57:00.003-08:00

Joan Unger, a five time Iditarod volunteer sent us an email earlier this week that contained photos of the team at the ceremonial start in Anchorage. Little did she know that the shots she snapped were of the soon to be infamous Whitey-Lance.

Our wandering Whitey snuggled into AJ for a pep talk after being unloaded from the dog box just as Joan had her camera ready. Next year’s pep talk includes a little something about staying with the team…

Tenzing Takes an Early Retirement

2010-04-03T19:37:00.004-08:00

It all started with what was thought to be a dental infection, an infection that quickly moved to the least of our worries. With two visits to the vet within a one week period, Tenz is now being treated for an auto immune disease, an ailment that has left open wounds on his nose and in his ears, and the pads sluffing off his paws leaving them raw and tender.

Tenzing doesn’t whine. He doesn’t complain. He doesn’t resist his treatment. Thanks to AJ’s physical strength, he is able to carry Tenzing. Thanks to Rebecca’s employer, she is able to keep a constant eye on her best bud at home or at her office where Tenz is gunning for employee of the month. His care consists of multiple medications and rest. To ensure that our super sled dog rests in style Rebecca made him new dog pillows including a Superman dog pillow.

Tenzing has now officially joined the retired ranks in our kennel which include Fargo, Bridger, Rowdy and Howard. Our bud’s career highlights include marking Rebecca as his own when they first met, crawling in AJ’s sleeping bag for some shut-eye on the Knik 200 race, being promoted to running swing (the position directly behind the leaders), discovering the wonders of rolling around in toilet paper, enjoying the status as Snowhook’s first real sled dog, and being the inspiration for our kennel logo. Tenz, you're loved more than you'll ever know...

Idle Hands

2010-03-27T21:34:00.002-08:00

The lead foot lifted from the gas pedal of preparing for Iditarod leaves us feeling at a loss of what to do with our down time. For months we survived on little sleep, we hummed at varying levels of chaos in our preparations; we only daydreamed about the luxury of downtime. And now…now what?

To keep our idle hands and minds occupied we’ve tarried in the kennel later each night, started kennel and household projects, cleaned the kennel more than necessary, Rebecca writes Whitey’s tale, and AJ is already planning next year’s training schedule.

Downtime certainly exists in our corner of the world with one exception---tending to Tenzing. After two trips to the vet in the week following AJ’s return from the trail, Tenzing, Rebecca’s first sled dog is now being treated for an auto immune disease. The onslaught of the symptoms appeared almost overnight and has worsened each day. Tenz can’t walk, so AJ carries him. Tenz can’t be left alone, so Rebecca stays with him. (A posting dedicated to Tenzing to follow…)

Post Script: Too bad Whitey-Lance can't write---we are busy trying to respond to all the emails and fan mail Whitey-Lance has received. It's important to us the we respond to your emails and letters; the amount received is overwhelming.

Popular Demand, In the Works & Coming Soon

2010-03-18T08:55:00.001-08:00

The idea of writing a children’s book series based on the characters that make up the Snowhook Kennel team has slept curled with its head tucked under its tail in my mind for the last several years. Armed with only a few sketches and scenes, story lines haven’t fully formed---until now (Thanks, Whitey-Lance). The idea struck me once our wanderer returned, and then comments posted on our blog, emails and phone calls have spurred my little idea into action. Look for Whitey-Lance's forthcoming tale!

Whitey-Lance inspired t-shirts are also in the works for those of you who have inquired, requested and demanded. Ordering information will be posted on our website once the shirts are ready for the taking.

RHS

Dealing with Disappointment

2010-03-18T07:02:00.001-08:00

We are still on cloud nine that Whitey-Lance is present and accounted for, and if dog math works the same for clouds as it does for calculating dog years, Whitey is spending quality time on cloud sixty-three.

Whitey’s return was the priority, the race secondary, but the disappointment about the unfinished race has surfaced. It lurks. It haunts.

After all the training and after having a good race until the incident, it was heartbreaking for AJ to watch as the last team left McGrath, knowing that were it not for Whitey-Lance’s unplanned hiatus he would have long since been gone. A disappointment---yes, a failure---no. There will be other races---there has to be, but there could never be another Whitey-Lance.

After the 2010 Iditarod, we were looking forward to having savings again, looking forward to getting some sleep, and getting our pretty on the outside, but barely runs on the inside truck fixed. But, the finish line, not just the starting line was part of our Iditarod goal. Among other things, it means another year of lean living, it means that Rebecca’s Yukon Quest goals will be postponed, it means that prayer will continue to be part of our auto maintenance plan. The Iditarod remains unchecked on our list of goals.

Planning for our next Iditarod has already begun. Whitey-Lance has called dibs to be on Snowhook’s next Iditarod team…

Welcoming the Wandering Wonder Dog

2010-03-16T21:17:00.001-08:00

The day has seemed brighter, the fire seems to burn warmer, and chores seem easier now that we have been reunited with our wandering wonder dog.

Maybe he decided team sports weren’t for him, maybe he heard Lance was further along on the trail and got confused, maybe he needed to see a man about a horse…who knows, all we can say is we couldn’t be happier that our wandering Whitey has returned.

We slept in on Monday morning, something the three, yes Whitey included, needed. We’ve tended to dogs and I’ve tended to AJ’s frostbitten and wind burned face, we’re starting to deal with the disappointment about the race, but mainly we’ve spend time welcoming Whitey home. Hugs, soft words and more hugs.

Yesterday, as I sat on Whitey-Lance’s house giving him the, “when a man and a woman love a dog very, very much, the dog should never run off” talk Whitey sat on my lap. It was a warm day and I had my one piece snow/chore suit open to cool off. As I talked to Whitey, he put a front foot inside my suit, then the other, then a back foot, then his head---the west end of an eastbound Whitey and one back leg were all that remained outside my suit…this is classic Whitey-Lance. What a clown...

RHS

Iditarod Update #10: Welcome Home

2010-03-15T00:35:00.001-08:00

From despair and heartache to delight and happiness with one phone call. I was expecting to pick up AJ at the airport on Monday based on an earlier phone conversation on Sunday in which he also told me that there have been several Whitey sightings around McGrath. Still no luck. AJ’s flight plan gave him another day to search for the missing mutt, but it didn’t feel right that Whitey might not be with him. I was glad I bought provisions in the form of cheesecake for another day of waiting.

About an hour and a slice of cheesecake later, I received another phone call from AJ with a very different tone. “Whitey’s sitting on my lap right now,” was all he said and my tears started flowing. Dog and musher were scheduled to be on the last flight in tonight. I sped into Anchorage in a haze of disbelief---could it be real? I drove overflowing with gratitude---the prayers and hopes of many were answered.

AJ with Whitey-Lance in tow stood among Iditarod volunteers, vets and a sea of gear at the airport. I didn’t know who to hug first---the amazing man or the wandering Whitey. Husband first, then dog. A bit skinny, a bit worse for wear, but all in all in good health and spirits.

Shortly after AJ’s first phone call this afternoon, it was reported that a group of people on the edge of McGrath had Whitey-Lance in their sights. To the Bat-mobile. After Whitey shying away from everyone including AJ, Whitey was lured in by a bite of salmon. While Whitey gave into the needs of his empty stomach, AJ wrapped his arms around Whitey and didn’t let go. From there, and truer to form Whitey-Lance stayed by AJ’s side all the way home.

To our surprise, Frank and Karen Washington waited at the airport for the trail hardened traveler’s return. As hugs were given, and words of encouragement were spoken, Whitey-Lance closed his eyes and fell asleep. Whitey is slumbering in our house tonight, but until he fell asleep he went from AJ’s lap to my lap and back again.

Thank you to all of you for the prayers and positive thoughts for Whitey. Thank you for reminding me that on either side of the valley we have been wandering are mountains---you know who you are. Thank you for all of your faith when my waivered. Thank you for helping me smile and laugh when it was the last thing I could imagine doing. Thank you for sharing in my hurt and now happienss. Thank you for helping me feel less alone; I usually love solitude, but this week threatened to be too lonely were it not for the comments on the blog, kind words, emails, texts, and phone calls. Thank you to the volunteers and residents of McGrath that helped AJ in the search, that rallied, that fed him, that stayed in the game with him to the end. You are all friends of Snowhook Kennel. We are beyond grateful.

Why should Waldo be the only red and white clad wanderer in the world? Look for Whitey-Lance to be wearing a red and white striped dog jacket a la Where’s Waldo at Snowhook’s next Ceremonial start.

Welcome home, bud.

RHS

Iditarod Update #9: Finders Keepers

2010-03-14T18:12:00.002-08:00

Just a quick note, I will write more later, but I just received a call from AJ that Whitey was sitting on his lap. They are on the next flight in---I need to hit the road to pick up AJ and his fury carry-on.

Whitey-Lance: Have you seen this dog?

2010-03-14T14:44:00.002-08:00

Iditarod Update #8: Wishing for Whitey

2010-03-14T14:21:00.002-08:00

The dogs began to bark yesterday morning, the kind of bark that means something is nearby. Mushers know this bark. I ran out to the kennel, my heart pounding and hopeful, I started calling for Whitey-Lance. And then, I came to my senses; the chance that I would find Whitey at our kennel was slim, but I had to hope. Damn moose.

My only motivation to get out of bed each day is caring for the dogs in the kennel. Once I get out to the kennel, I want to remain. The dogs have been my comfort. Some wrap their arms around my waist and refuse to let me go, some snuggle against my legs, others rest their head on my shoulder. They let me hurt this hurt that I can't describe. They let me worry concern that seems neverending. They quash the hollow ache in my heart that refuses to subside.

I've said the only bad characteristic of a dog is that they can break your heart. Whitey-Lance will return---he must. It feels as if my heart has been forced to bend into a new, unrecognizable, and uncomfortable shape.

Please let today be the day Whitey is found.

Iditarod Update #7: Whitey Watch Continues

2010-03-14T00:38:00.004-09:00

I just got in from doing dog chores, but one quick post before I crawl under the covers.

This morning AJ said they had another lead on Whitey in McGrath, and just like all the other days he was off to search.

Our luck has turned, at least with our dog truck---it ran like a charm as I headed into Anchorage this evening. I picked up the team less one dog and one musher at the airport in Anchorage. I hoped Whitey and AJ would be on the plane, but I knew in my heart I wouldn't be welcoming either home tonight. The team was welcomed home with dog treats, belly rubs, hugs, soft words, handshakes, kisses and fresh straw. All in good spirits.

Dear friends, Frank and Karen Washington met me at the airport and helped me load dogs. They noticed my immediate disappointment when we only had 14 dogs to load in the truck. They did their best to make me smile and laugh---two things that have been scarce in my world lately. AJ and I are so fortunate to have such kind friends.

While I was driving home, AJ called and said there is now word of another Whitey sighting in Takotna, 20 miles further on the trail. Whitey is making tracks...

Iditarod Update #6: Not a Fairy Tale Ending

2010-03-12T20:59:00.003-09:00

It wasn't a matter of compentency, or a matter of training that kept the team from realizing a dream, it was, without a better word, a glitch. A fluke. A "you have to been kidding me" kind of a thing.

AJ contacted me a few minutes ago letting me know that he was forced to scratch from the Iditarod. While relaying the decision, race authorities were very complimentary of the team saying that they saw the team run, and if Whitey were to walk up right then AJ would be sent on the trail. Unfortunately, Whitey-Lance has other plans. Whitey, though having been spotted remains elusive.

The scratch hurts. It is heartbreaking, but secondary to finding Whitey-Lance. Many friends and family have prayed and tried to offer comforting words as we wait for Whitey, but a dear friend said out loud something that huddled in the back of my mind and I've done my best to ignore; perhaps Whitey taking off is protecting AJ from something. It may seem trite to some, but this, I have to believe. Those of you who know us well, understand it was more than just a matter of time on the runners and resources to get to the starting line.

Thank you to all the volunteers and residents of McGrath and other areas who have helped look for Whitey. AJ says you have been fantastic, and he's not one to hand out undeserving compliments. Thank you to all of you have prayed and sent your well wishers, and I ask that you continue to do so until Whitey-Lance is back where he belongs.

I am extraordinarily proud of AJ and the team. I'm proud for several, several reasons, but the greatest pride I feel right now is that he didn't give up on Whitey-Lance, and that the team didn't give up on AJ.

The race will be there next year.

A Story on AJ's Search for Whitey-Lance

2010-03-12T20:14:00.000-09:00

http://www.alaskadispatch.com/projects/iditarod-2010/4417-missing-dog-jeopardizes-a-rookie-run

Iditarod Update #5: Word of Whitey

2010-03-12T16:08:00.002-09:00

AJ just called after another evening and day of searching. Sounding wounded and weary he reported that word came last night that a woman saw a dog matching Whitey's description near the McGrath airport. I picture a "to the batmobile" moment in my head as AJ and whoever he could convince jump on the nearest snowmachine and head for the airport to find our unfindable dog.

The husband said they know Whitey is in town (McGrath), and this gives me hope. Please, please, please Whitey...

The Snowhook Kennel Website is Back Up and Running

2010-03-12T14:36:00.002-09:00

Iditarod Update # 4: Whitey-Lance Still on the Lam

2010-03-12T14:31:00.001-09:00

It’s been a difficult 36 hours with no success finding Whitey-Lance. Maddening puts it mildly. Heart wrenching doesn’t come close. Devastating is only an inkling.

I was able to speak to AJ last night after a day of searching. A white and grey dog is like a needle in a haystack in the color scheme the trail provides. AJ searched with the troopers yesterday in addition to the efforts of many on the ground and in the air. After AJ and I spoke, I was getting a “keep your chin up” talk from my mushing mentor; in the course of the conversation the idea came about to take Twig, who showed signs of being in heat at the start of the race to the last area Whitey was spotted. He might be lured in for more than just conversation. I called race headquarters and asked to pass along a message to the McGrath checkpoint to call me, but I haven’t heard anything. This could be a case when lust, not love prevails.

I’ve been at home wandering through some pretty low valleys desperately hoping and praying that Whitey will return and that all is not lost. I wish I could be out there searching for my little bud, could be doing something useful, and could at least be by AJ’s side. Instead, I’m home with Luna (the matriarch and mascot of our kennel) who will not be denied her maternal instincts and refuses to leave my side. I’ve eaten half of a cheesecake waiting for good news---don’t judge. During my morning chores I curled up on the top of Whitey-Lance’s house for a long while and when I opened and dried my eyes I was surrounded by ravens---at least Snow White had bluebirds.

While I feel about as miserable as I can ever remember, I can’t imagine AJ’s heartache. For those of you praying for Whitey’s reunion with the rest of the team, please include AJ in your prayers and good thoughts. I am sure comfort will be difficult to come by, but please. AJ trained hard. He was ready. The team was ready. AJ is tough. He is competent, and this glitch wipes all the effort and dedication clean.

The clock is ticking for AJ and the team

Iditarod Update #3: Milk Carton Pup

2010-03-11T17:49:00.002-09:00

I received an unexpected call this morning from AJ, with unexpected news. Yesterday, on his run between Nikolai and McGrath, Whitey-Lance pulled out of his harness and ran off. This is very uncharacteristic behavior from my sweet, tender-hearted bud; usually he is underfoot when running free at our kennel. While some of our dogs prefer belly rubs, Whitey-Lance lives for hugs.

AJ turned the team around several times yesterday trying to find Whitey. In our brief conversation this morning, AJ said he lost his tracks in the deep snow. True to my addiction of watching the GPS tracker on the Iditarod website I noticed AJ’s tracker going backwards and then forwards several times yesterday, and now know the reason.

McGrath is the home of AJ’s 24 hour layover whether he wanted it to be or not. He along with several volunteers have spent the last 24 hours searching for Whitey, who by reports from this afternoon has been spotted several times.

While AJ and I were on the phone this morning, I overheard someone say that they think Whitey was spotted in Nikolai and AJ was off with just time enough to promise me he would call as soon as they found Whitey-Lance. I’m still waiting for the phone call. Today has been maddening.

I am heartsick for Whitey-Lance being alone (though he is probably having the time of his life), I can’t imagine what AJ must be feeling right now, and I don’t want to entertain the thought that all (and by all, I mean everything and then some) we put into this race might be gone in a flash. Living by race rules, AJ will not be allowed to continue with his race until Whitey is present and accounted for.

I feel all prayed out today. I’ve been in the good company of family, friends and even strangers who have prayed for reunion of Whitey and AJ---you know who you are, and you have no idea how much it means.

I prefer to laugh instead of cry when life gets rough, but today I’ve leaned on the strength and positive thoughts of others because I haven’t felt much like smiling much at all. Though I don’t feel like posting a Letterman-esque top 10 list of what Whitey will say when he is found, the wallowing must stop---let laughter prevail. To start with some smiles, below is a picture of the best hugger in the kennel---Whitey-Lance:

Iditarod Upadte #3: The Waiting is the Hardest Part

2010-03-11T01:42:00.002-09:00

Tom Petty said it best when he sang, "the waiting is the hardest part," though doubtful he is following the 2010 Iditarod.

AJ and gang pulled into McGrath on Wednesday afternoon, and trusting the GPS tracker has been sitting still for several hours. Perhaps he is taking his 24 hour layover in McGrath, though nothing has been declared on the race standings at the time of this post. We could only afford sending a "24" drop bag to one of the checkpoints along the trail and selected McGrath. In addition to the regular drop bag items, this drop bag contains enough food for muts and musher for the 24 hour layover and an extra layer of fleece. That extra layer might be perfectly timed as temperatures have dropped to well below zero.

I woke up in the wee hours of yesterday morning to an email from the trail. Not long on words, AJ said he was getting ready to leave Nikolai and then included the correct combination of "miss you," and "love yous." That man of mine...

Iditarod Update #2: Mountains to Flatlands

2010-03-09T20:44:00.001-09:00

As of 8:30 p.m. on Tuesday evening, AJ appears to have navigated through the Buffalo Chutes and the Farwell Burn between the Rohn and Nikolai checkpoints---mountains to flatlands.

According the GPS tracker, the team is 234 miles out, just few miles past the Nikolai checkpoint and continuing down the trail to the McGrath checkpoint, 281 miles into the race. Expect AJ to take some sort of a rest on this stretch, long or short. AJ may consider taking his 24 hour layover in McGrath, or may push 18 miles further to the Takotna checkpoint.

The thermometer appears to be in the dogs’ favor now more than yesterday. At one degree below zero, the dogs tend to run better, and the temperature is quite tolerable for the two-legged member of the team.

As for our dear friend, Jackson who AJ dropped early on in the race, I picked him up today from the women’s correctional facility in Highland, Alaska. Jackson was treated very well under their care as he enjoyed straw, a blanket and some human company. In good spirits, and acting like he hasn’t been on the trail, Jackson insisted on a belly rub before getting into the car---love that dog!

Iditarod Update #1---the First of Many

2010-03-08T23:22:00.001-09:00

After a frustrating 24 hours comparing the race standings and the GPS tracker it is safe to say, AJ has been staying on schedule thus far. Race standings showed him well behind schedule last night, in 68th place this morning and then bumped up to 18th place shortly thereafter.

The team has been to Yetna, the first checkpoint on the trail less than 40 miles into the race, then onto Skwetna almost 70 miles into the race. After the team left the Finger Lake checkpoint this morning he headed to a winding and steep section of trail called the Steps. It appears he navigated the Steps safely and reached the Rainy Pass checkpoint this afternoon.

Mid evening, it appears he is giving the team some well deserved rest, and hit the trail again around 9:30 p.m. He should reach Rohn, 161 miles into the race in the wee hours of Tuesday morning.

Rather to be safe than sorry, AJ dropped Jackson at one of the earlier checkpoints in the race for fatigue, no injuries. I will pick Jackson up on Tuesday morning, he will spend a couple of days in the house so I can keep a close eye on him, and he will receive a hero’s welcome complete with belly rubs---his favorite.

Thanks to all of those who have email, texted or called giving or asking for updates.

RHS

The Iditarod Restart: The Race is On

2010-03-07T20:41:00.004-09:00

Sleep found us easily the night before the big race. We woke up early and headed to Willow Elementary to enjoy the PTA pancake breakfast. After filling our bellies, we loaded the dogs and headed to Willow Lake, the site of the Iditarod Restart---the real start.

The usual suspects from the Ceremonial Start arrived at the restart to help the team to the starting line. As handlers held the sled and as we waited at the starting line for the countdown, I couldn’t help but tear up. It wasn’t because I was scared or worried for AJ. He’s tough and the team is well trained.

Emotion won out because of pride in AJ, pride in the team, gratitude that even after his accident this fall AJ could be standing at the starting line of our dream. A dream that took everything we had to make it to the countdown. Running on fumes of time, finances, equipment and all other resources there are no reserves left. This is it AJ---pull the hook!

RHS

The Starting Line Up

2010-03-07T02:21:00.000-09:00

Sixteen dogs made the final cut to join AJ on the Iditarod trail:

The Leaders
Annabelle
Twig
Quigley
Elim
Rory

Team and Wheel Dogs
Jackson
Noel
Natty
Pancho
Lefty
Jesse
Frank
Younger
Doc
Orion
Whitey-Lance

For complete dog profiles visit the “Meet the Snowhook Kennel Team” section of this blog.

2010 Ceremonial Start

2010-03-06T01:14:00.005-09:00

For weeks we’ve refrained from driving our dog truck knowing that it is on its last leg. We just kept saying the dog truck just has to get us to Anchorage for the Ceremonial Start of the Iditarod, and if it breaks down after that…well, we take life as it comes. The truck sputtered, made awful noises, and prayer became a big part of our journey into Anchorage. We pulled into our parking spot in the staging area just short of smoking and backfiring…Snowhook arrives in style for the long awaited day.

Not having been to the Ceremonial Start before we didn’t know what to expect and were slack jawed at the transformation of downtown Anchorage and the number of fans.

Karen and Frank Washington were assigned Coach detail for the day and arrived early to fulfill their duties; Karen took this responsibility very seriously and Frank did double duty as an impromptu handler. Shortly after Frank and Karen arrived, the Boy Scouts arrived ready for the joys of handling a dog team. With only a limited number of handler passes, we had to turn away others willing to handle, but hearty friends and family watched on the sidelines with cameras in hand, or watched the televised play by play from home. We wish everyone could have been back stage.

Lance, Rebecca’s mushing mentor, his sweetheart Brenda, and our neighbor Patty and a friend made their way to the pit to help handle---without passes we’re not sure how they got back stage, and we ain’t askin’. Alan Peck jumped into handle, and thanks to Frank, we were fortunate enough to have two other skilled handlers join the crew. The combination of the experienced handlers and the enthusiasm of the Boy Scouts made the trip to the starting line very, very smooth.

Racers leave the starting line of the Ceremonial Start with a “whip” sled and a second musher for extra weight and control as they mush through city streets. Vern Halter was kind enough to loan us a tandem sled for the Ceremonial Start; not only was this easier that driving a whip sled it provided AJ’s Iditarider with a more comfortable ride.

As AJ was doing interviews, getting his picture taken, and trying to direct the Boy Scouts, a man in a bright red coat approached and introduced himself as Bart Blackburn, AJ’s Iditarider. To fulfill a goal of seeing the Iditarod, Bart made a blitz trip from Ohio to ride the 11 miles of the Ceremonial Start. Even though Bart headed back to Ohio shortly after the Ceremonial Start his two girls will be cheering AJ on from Ohio! (Bart, send us an email---we have pictures to share).
Bart took his position in the sled, AJ stepped on the first set of runners and Rebecca on the second and we finally received the go ahead to make our way to the starting line. People cheered, took pictures, called AJ’s name, and thanks to a VIP pass, Jeff Roe (Rebecca’s former boss) made it into the chute for a quick hug and kind words. Five, four, three, two, one and the team was off in downtown Anchorage!

Co-workers and other friends of both AJ and Rebecca screamed and cheered. People handed cookies, muffins, and hot dogs as we passed. Three new friends who sat at the table at the Musher’s Banquet cheered for the team, and Boy Scouts held signs along the trail. The support and well wishes was overwhelming, but we soon came back to reality when came to the end of the trail and Lance was waiting with news that the dog truck barely made it to the finish to meet the team.

It was a great day that ended in much the same way it started, willing our dog truck to our next destination---home.

Coach on the Trail & Waiting for Gameday

2010-03-05T23:11:00.004-09:00

You can’t come to Alaska for Iditarod and not go on a dog sled ride, or so we insisted each time Coach said not to worry about him and to focus on the race. But, we needed some distraction waiting for game day and took to the trails with Coach the evening before the big day. Ten miles of trail later, Coach had a taste of why we love our life.

Breaking News: AJ Draws Bib #10

2010-03-04T22:28:00.003-09:00

The title says it all---AJ drew the number 10 bib for the 2010 Iditarod.

Following a full day of the mandatory musher meeting that AJ attended, mushers and fans spent the evening at the Musher’s Banquet where the mushers draw their official bib number.

This momentous event was shared by close and dear supporters of the team including Coach, Fran our neighbor who loves our dogs about as much as we do, and Frank and Karen Washington who have been our biggest fans from day one. Unfortunately, Paul Lowe who helped prepare the team for the race was unable to share the evening due to emergency knee surgery---we wish him the speediest of recoveries.

#10 in ‘010 signed autographs, shook hands, had pictures taken which came naturally for race fans, yet Frank self-proclaimed PR/Marketing Representative of the Snowhook Kennel team did his best to sell the man, the myth, the legend---AJ.

Yet Another Vet

2010-03-03T20:47:00.000-09:00

If there is an equivalent to telling your children that you’re going to an amusement park and you really take them to the dentist, this is it. We loaded 19 Iditarod hopeful team members into the dog truck and headed back to Iditarod headquarters for the second and final vet check before the start of the race. We were fortunate to have 4 great vets swoop in and make quick and easy work of this chore. The vets volunteer their time for Iditarod and we certainly appreciate their dedication. This visit includes examination for existing injuries, checking feet, checking teeth, and checking temperatures---it was the last of this list that the dogs didn’t appreciate.

AJ tended to lifting the dogs in and out of the dog truck and Rebecca tended to the paperwork. All team members received a clean bill of health before the race, and in true Snowhook Kennel team fashion the dogs posed for pictures.

Coach joined the team in this portion of the honey do’s for the race and realized the magnitude of the race and all the planning and preparation it takes to make the race happen.

Coach & the Iditarod Rookie

2010-03-02T11:52:00.001-09:00

With a winter coat in hand, Rebecca picked her father, Coach up from the Anchorage airport today. Knowing that Iditarod is a big deal, and knowing that his favorite (okay, only) son-in-law is an Iditarod rookie once, Coach made the trek to Alaska from warm-weather St. George, Utah to support AJ.

Coach recently had a total knee replacement, and postponed having the other knee replaced so he could cheer AJ on in person. Coach came with strict instructions from his surgeon not to slip on the ice, so when we gave him a tour of the dog kennel, we put him in Rowdy’s retirement pen so he wouldn’t get tackled by any of the dogs. Rowdy sat next to Coach as they both watched AJ and Rebecca do the evening chores.

Welcome to our corner of the world, Coach---it means the world.

Drop Bags & Vet Checks Make for a very Busy Day

2010-02-16T11:13:00.006-09:00

So this is what it is like to walk through our living room again? For weeks our small living space has been overtaken by dog food, dog care items, gear, and food for AJ as we prepared his drop bags, and we are happy to say, the task is now behind us.

AJ and Fran sorted meat for the dogs while Rebecca put the finishing touches on sewing some gear for AJ or the dogs to send on the trail. We were the first to arrive in Anchorage to send off our drop bags and were greeted by LDS missionaries who volunteered for this stretch of the race. Shucking their usually Sunday best, the missionaries sported their name tags with bright yellow t-shirts. They weighed, sorted and stacked the drop bags and when the final numbers were tallied, we shipped just over 1400 pounds along the trail for the dogs and AJ.

If the drop bags weren’t enough to make a busy day, from Anchorage we headed back to Willow, loaded the 19 dogs selected for the race (16 to run, 3 alternates), and drove to Iditarod headquarters in Wasilla for the first of 2 vet checks.

The vet tech and assistants are great professionals and made the process of drawing blood, microchipping and performing EKGs as smooth as possible. Each dog did well as they were poked and prodded, lifted and held. AJ was in charge of bringing dogs in to see the vet team and taking the dog back out to the truck, while Rebecca talked softly as she held the dogs for the EKG. The dogs were in good spirits and had even had time to pose for a photo or two for passersby.It was a busy day, but it is nice to check both off our to-do list. On to the next…

2010 Iditarod, Sled Dog Central, Dog Profiles, & a Completed Website---We have Arrived!

2010-02-12T01:20:00.003-09:00

In addition to the time spent on the runners preparing for the Iditarod, we have been busy in our corner of the world.

Our kennel is now listed on one of our favorite mushing sites, http://www.sleddogcentral.com/, we completed profiles for the team, and are pleased to announce the completion of our website. We are more than happy to check these items off our to-do list, though it seems the list isn’t getting shorter.

AJ will leave the starting line in three weeks! For those of us who will be living vicariously through AJ, updates on his progress in the race will be posted on this blog---some of the adventure without any of the frostbite…

Tick, Tick, Tick...

2010-02-10T22:41:00.000-09:00

The starting line is 23 days away and it seems like the clock is ticking louder and time is speeding up as we spend late nights training the team, waking up in the middle of the night thinking of yet another thing to add to the to-do list, and putting the finishing touches on the drop bags.

The starting line seems just around the corner and forever away.

Drop Bags---will it ever end?

2010-02-02T20:15:00.002-09:00

Mushers will send drop bags with dog food, dog care items, food for the musher, among other things to several check points along the Iditarod trail. Preparing the drop bags is no small undertaking---in fact, this undertaking has been overtaking our little homestead.

The kibble has been measured and packed, and next is cutting meat and preparing meals for the musher; thanks to Qdoba Mexican Grill, one of our favorite dining establishments, AJ will be eating more than beef jerky and Snickers on the trail.

AJ: a Renaissance Man

2010-01-10T12:18:00.003-09:00

He runs dogs. He is a photographer. He does carpentry projects. And, now he sews.

Not to be left out of the fun, AJ offered to help with some of the sewing projects as we prepare for Iditarod. After being showed the basic ins and outs of the sewing machine, he set to trying his hand sewing Velcro on some booties. After some less than stellar attempts AJs proficiency increased. You can't help but love him for trying...