Gales Tales

Day 5: Gale's Journal Notes: February 25th 2024

 

Can you believe it? She made it happen. She brought us to this, the trail of my ancestors. Right now, my four paws are on the sea ice. Without a boat, without a plank of wood, without an inflatable raft, we're floating over the salty water atop the ice. I can tell Grace is quite nervous. Just a few minutes ago, we had to cross over a open lead. It was only a foot wide, I could of stuck a basketball down in the crack. We followed along the side of the lead looking for a more narrow crossing, but instead only found wider crossings. So, she in the end she asked me to step across. I could hear her heart pounding. Boom boom boom, rhythmic and fast.

 

Her fears kept her awake the night before, she tossed and turned breaking into a night sweat even though the temperature was thirty below zero. Her breath was condensing on top of the sleeping bag. She always asks me to keep my nose towards the head-hole of the sleeping bag. Its a rule. At two a.m. she unzipped our sleeping bag and let all that cold air in. I'm not one to complain, I was sleeping so soundly in our bag, yet she kept disturbing me. Flipping to the left side, flopping to the right side.

 

The cabin on the rock that we were sleeping in took some long time getting to. Yesterday morning, first we had to finish climbing this long hill we had began the night before. A vigorous morning got our blood moving. She tried slowing down as her body was producing sweat. I'm glad I don't sweat. My paws are better suited to this cold than her paws. 

 

So we're climbing this hill. She broke a sweat, wet wet. Then we dropped down the mountain and left the land lumps behind. Just as we were leaving the hills, we crossed this naked lagoon. The wind greeted us, she must hang out there most days, lifting the snow to elsewhere whenever it falls. The snow never has a chance to stick. Slipping on ice over this naked lagoon, we left the hills behind. My four paws splayed out on the ice, heart pumping as tried to pull but didn't have a grip. 

 

The wind forcefully and fiercely welcomed us to her domain. A chilling welcome. Once we were met by her, we never stopped moving. We were too afraid. Afraid she would keep us where we stopped. Afraid we wouldn't be able to get moving again. Movement creates a furnace within us. Our pumping hearts heat our bodies. Stopping and bringing down this heartbeat tempers the furnace, allowing for the cold to creep in and put the fire out. The wind did find a weakness of hers, the sweat of my human from our climb earlier. That moisture had collected in her gloves and her warm blood cooled too quickly, it wasn't quite able to reach the very tips of her fingers. I think that's why this past night in our sleeping bag, her hands seemed to be glued in between her thighs, collecting the heat from her massive muscular quads. She was bitten by that wind, not with one chomp but with the ever constant persistent wearing down.

 

The morning at our cold cabin on the rock came as it always does, a requirement to get up and go. Just as the sun peaked her head over the horizon, my human had her two skis on and hooked me up to my harness. I wasn't quite ready to wake up, but when the harness was buttoned by my side, I always get excited. Its in my blood. I am born to run. Right now, we're taking a break after crossing that lead on the sea ice. She's collecting her nerves. The sky is blue and clear. The sun is bright and warm. The wind of yesterday is taking a short hiatus. I know not how long we still must go. My human knows the way. I trust my human. We make good partners, my human and I.

 

 

Postscript: Along the Alaskan coast, Grace and her Alaskan Husky, Gale, skied from Kaltag to Nome, the final third of the historic Iditarod Sled Dog Trail in February 2024. In her pulk sled which she pulled, she carried everything to be self-sufficient for the journey. It was 350 miles. It was just her and her dog for each of those miles. Unexpectedly, she was warmly welcomed into the native villages along the way, who with great hospitality provided lodging, food, and most importantly warm encouragement tangled with admiration of her bravery.