March 30, 2018
Be Careful What You Wish For
Way back in the day, I was a dog musher. For nearly 10 years actually. I started out as a guide taking people out on day trips, then progressed to dog sled expeditions then racing. At the time, I thought I was going to be a dog driver for the rest of my life. Then a funny thing happened: I got jealous of the dogs. They were running and pulling the sled and I was just standing there. I wanted to be the one out front breaking trail and pulling heavy loads across frozen expanses.
Fast forward 15 years and now I am that guy I wanted to be... the one pulling heavy loads across frozen expanses. But now, I realize, I am the sled dog.
I'm not complaining... too much. After all, I love what I do, but it is ironic and I am a huge fan of irony, especially if it is at my expense.
I spent much of the day yesterday in a fast forwarded version of my polar training. While Vivian (my client) has considerable mountaineering experience, summiting Everest from both the North and South sides, she had never done any polar-style travel and therefore, my first job is to try to get people to think differently than in the mountains.
In the Arctic, it is very humid. So managing moisture is a priority. Equally important is staying on top of all the systems that keep us warm, dry, safe and moving forward. It's a hard conversation to have with people as how these concepts play out here can be difficult for novices to grasp at first. Most of the time, people nod and smile, humoring me and my obsession with details. But by the second or third day, they begin to see that there is reason and logic behind everything I do. From which mittens to wear to when we out on our (Allied Feather and) Down jackets, to which poles to put up first in the tent. When you've been a sled dog as long as I have, you see things through the lens of the 'worst case scenario'. We walk, teetering constantly, between comfort and survival. It doesn't take much to tip the scales against you.
Vivian has been a star student. Picking up my suggestions and asking questions. The weather today was a mild 10 degrees F and we were able to relax during breaks sitting on our sleds - something that is nearly impossible at 40 below. We skied far down the valley from Longyearbyen then circled part way back. The scenery was incredible as the shifted across the snow covered mountain sides.
Around 2 in the afternoon, we were passed by five dog teams. A guide and several clients out for the day. I watched the dogs trot effortlessly by, then smiled.
And then I thought to myself, 'I am a sled dog'.
Image: A polar selfie
Fast forward 15 years and now I am that guy I wanted to be... the one pulling heavy loads across frozen expanses. But now, I realize, I am the sled dog.
I'm not complaining... too much. After all, I love what I do, but it is ironic and I am a huge fan of irony, especially if it is at my expense.
I spent much of the day yesterday in a fast forwarded version of my polar training. While Vivian (my client) has considerable mountaineering experience, summiting Everest from both the North and South sides, she had never done any polar-style travel and therefore, my first job is to try to get people to think differently than in the mountains.
In the Arctic, it is very humid. So managing moisture is a priority. Equally important is staying on top of all the systems that keep us warm, dry, safe and moving forward. It's a hard conversation to have with people as how these concepts play out here can be difficult for novices to grasp at first. Most of the time, people nod and smile, humoring me and my obsession with details. But by the second or third day, they begin to see that there is reason and logic behind everything I do. From which mittens to wear to when we out on our (Allied Feather and) Down jackets, to which poles to put up first in the tent. When you've been a sled dog as long as I have, you see things through the lens of the 'worst case scenario'. We walk, teetering constantly, between comfort and survival. It doesn't take much to tip the scales against you.
Vivian has been a star student. Picking up my suggestions and asking questions. The weather today was a mild 10 degrees F and we were able to relax during breaks sitting on our sleds - something that is nearly impossible at 40 below. We skied far down the valley from Longyearbyen then circled part way back. The scenery was incredible as the shifted across the snow covered mountain sides.
Around 2 in the afternoon, we were passed by five dog teams. A guide and several clients out for the day. I watched the dogs trot effortlessly by, then smiled.
And then I thought to myself, 'I am a sled dog'.
Image: A polar selfie