LOCALadk Magazine
Issue link: https://localadkmagazine.uberflip.com/i/760149
Winter 2016 LOCALadk Magazine 26 LOCALadk In October 2009, my husband Jeramie and I took a road trip to Vermont to make what was, to him, a surprise purchase. We packed our two Alaskan malamutes, Ludo and Luna, into our car and drove out to a small home in the woods near Burlington. When Jeramie got out of the car and saw a little wooden dogsled waiting for us in the driveway, I knew that setting up this surprise had been a good idea. Driving my own dogsled changed my life. Since we began sled- ding in 2009, we adopted another Malamute - 110 pound Brutus. He fits his name! He has joined our small team and loves to pull us on the trail. My dogs are all pets, and we are recreational sled- ders at best. The dogs enjoy being outside, and in the evening they come inside and snuggle up in their big plush dog beds. The dogs' natural purpose, their instinct becomes so very appar- ent when they're pulling the sled. Malamutes are known for their ability to pull heavy freight, Siberian Huskies for their agility and speed. Sledding helped me to see their lineage; it helped me see that everything in life has a purpose. They are happy when they are pulling, and I'm happy to honor their desire to pull. We never go too fast, and there is something intoxicating about the quiet hush of the runners through the snow, the dogs' feet on the trail, and my warm breath in front of me. For the past seven years, our family has spent many hours on the little wooden sled on secluded, snowy Adirondack trails. When our daughter was seven months old, we strapped her car seat into the dog sled bed and took her for her first trip, bundled up and happy. In the fall of 2015, I acted on a whim and discovered Call of the Wild Kennels in South Colton, New York, owned by Carolyn and Spencer Thew. Spencer had completed the Iditarod in 1993. My photographer friend, Kelli, and I were soon driving up the long, winding driveway at Call of the Wild Kennels. The excited barking and howling in the dog yard from more than 35 Siberi- an huskies enthusiastically welcomed us. We parked and were greeted by Spencer, the creator of this magical place, and his two handlers and trainers, Andre and Natalie van der Merwe. Kelli and I watched in amazement as Spencer, Andre, and Natalie hooked up 10 dogs to the dryland cart as Kelli snapped photos. Andre welcomed us aboard the cart and advised us to hang on. Kelli's expression showed both excitement and a minor amount of concern as she cradled her camera for the jaunt. The team's reaction to the driver's command, "Hike!" triggered an indescrib- able rush in each of us. We laughed uncontrollably as the dogs ran down the beautiful wooded trail, kicking up mud and leaves. Spencer's story begins as do so many others. He was managing his 270 employee surveying and testing firm and was tiring of working long hours. He wanted to spend more of his life outside, in nature. He decided to get a few Siberian Huskies, inspired by his uncle's sled dog stories. "Most Iditarod mushers are in it be- cause it is a family tradition," he states. Indeed, his uncle, Ray Thornton, had once worked with some of the greatest mushers ever known. Ray was approached by Admiral Richard E. Byrd to take part in the Second Byrd Antarctic Expedition. Thornton declined; he was deemed too young by his father: school took priority. After a few years of recreational sledding, Spencer entered mid-distance races with his growing team of huskies: about 60- 250 miles in a weekend. He was happy with this activity and saw potential in his dogs. He wasn't alone. In 1991 Spencer ran in the Labrador 400 that set him on pace to eventually enter the Iditarod. Huddled around a campfire at 2:00 a.m., a fellow musher told him that any dog team that could finish the Labrador 400 could complete the Idi- tarod - The Last Great Race on Earth®! Spencer chewed on that thought. Several months later he began training to enter the Iditarod. In 1993, Spencer and his team of 18 Siberian huskies set out on the 1,161 mile course from Anchorage to Nome. Running in the Iditarod is the ultimate goal of most seasoned dog mushers. The race is a battle against the elements: learning to respect any- thing Mother Nature dishes out. The dogs and their driver learn from each other every leg of the journey. Some of the greatest challenges in the race are emotional and mental. Spencer was one of 22 first-time racers that year. He finished 12th out of the 22 rookies, and 53rd out of the 68 mushing teams. The difficulty of the Iditarod is incredible. Thousands more peo- ple have climbed and summited Mount Everest than have fin- ished the Iditarod. Spencer states, "We are winners - we finished - we earned our belt buckle. Fewer than 400 mushers have fin- ished the Iditarod - each one earns a belt buckle for their finish." In the first four days of the race, Spencer slept a total of three hours in 360 miles. He totaled 44 hours of sleep in the 17 days he was on the trail, a daily average of 2.4 hours. And, if that scary stat wasn't enough, Spencer broke three ribs in a fluke accident on his sled handlebar early in the race. He pressed on for 800 miles, unaware of the injury that he had sustained.