Broken Trails (24 page)

Lainey waved to number eleven as they passed, her trash talkers jostling each other and sneaking looks backwards. They acted exactly like teenaged boys having just pulled off a prank against the high school principal. She laughed with them, fully relaxing for the first time in days. Her team eased into a steady pace, ears pricking back to hear her chuckles.

All along the path people gathered, standing in front of their homes to cheer the mushers on. She followed a power line, seeing the next musher ahead. With little provocation, her dogs picked up speed. As they neared, she saw a group clustered on the side of the trail handing something to the musher.

"What are they doing?" Strauss yelled, looking up at her from the sled bed.

"No idea," she said.

The crowd held a few signs - 'Go Iditarod Mushers!' - and began calling encouragement as she closed with them. One woman reached out with something in her hand. Lainey automatically stretched out, and took what was given. She grinned at the large homemade muffin she now held and turned to wave her thanks before putting it into her snack bag.

Her three recalcitrants began bellowing insults again, and Lainey returned to warn musher number ten that she was passing. If her team could maintain this enthusiasm for the next two weeks, she would be well set for the race. Granted, the chances of that were slight, even with the high level of care the dogs would receive, but it would make for a great article if the rookie came in second or third.

The path passed a park and followed bicycle trails for a bit. They skirted the Campbell Airstrip, and Lainey saw a group of race officials ahead.

"This is where you get off," she said to Strauss.

"All right," he responded. "I'll see you at Eagle River. I may fly with Don along the race, but if I don't I'll definitely be in Nome when you get there."

When, not if. Lainey laughed. "I'd love the company." She called the dogs to a halt. They obeyed the command, their initial gusto mellowed with the miles they had run.

Strauss climbed out of the sled and took her hands. "Thanks for the ride. It was exhilarating."

"Anytime," she said. Then she left off the brake and ordered the dogs onward, only Rye on his sled trailing behind her.

The rest of the trip was calm and easy. Her team did not overtake any others, but she no longer minded the delay of their early detour. Eventually she came to a long hill, the trail thronged with cheering people. The VFW was ahead, and it looked like another circus in the making. It was only past noon, and she looked forward to an afternoon of celebrating with the Fullers. The true start of the Iditarod was the following day, and from then on, she would be alone with her dogs on the last great race.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

IF LAINEY THOUGHT she would be leaving civilization after the restart of the race, she was immediately disabused of the notion. The crowds were still in evidence in Wasilla and Scotch had told her that they would be on the trail all the way to Knik and beyond. According to Howry, who was keeping his ear to the ground as a good newsman should, there were anywhere from fifteen to seventeen thousand Iditarod fans crowding the narrow chute out of town alone. This time Lainey was through the worst of her attack of nerves. She ignored what she could, concentrating on her dogs and focusing on the fans who showed up looking for photos and autographs. When things got too claustrophobic, she distracted herself further with the memory of Scotch's good bye kiss this morning. The veteran musher had pulled all the stops out, a harbinger of the passion to come when they both arrived in Nome, and Lainey licked her lips at the recollection. As it had been the day before, several handlers were needed to keep her dogs in line. They yelped and shouted in excitement, all sixteen of them ready to run. It seemed that the twenty mile run the day before had done little to dampen their enthusiasm.

A checker came to her sled and she opened the bright yellow bag to show her mandatory gear. Not only were the usual items in place, but there was a packet of mail and promotional material she was required to deliver to Nome. If she lost any of it, she would be disqualified from the race. Other than the necessary items, she had little else. She and Scotch had sent their primary racing sleds to Knik with the dog trucks. There they would transfer their belongings before heading out into the wilderness. Those were more rugged and packed to the ribs with everything they would need.

"Everything's there," the checker said. She made a mark on her clipboard. "Have a good race."

"Thanks!" Lainey said, and the checker went down the line to the next musher.

"Lainey."

She turned to see Howry approaching, a wide grin on his face.

"Ready to go?" he asked, giving her a hug.

"You know it," she said, waving at the antics of her team.

He held out an envelope. "Scotch wanted me to give this to you. She said not to read it until you reach the end of your rope."

The urge to rip it open right there was powerful, but Lainey restrained herself. She saw Scotch's neat handwriting on the front and smiled softly. "Thanks," she said as she tucked it securely in her personal bag.

Howry shuffled his feet and she gave him a quizzical look.

"Ben's been hinting around, asking me questions about you two. What do you want me to tell him?"

Lainey sighed, knowing the topic would be inevitable after the musher banquet. "Go ahead and tell him the truth. It's not like he hasn't figured it out by now. He just wants verification."

"You sure?" he asked, brow furrowed. He knew Strauss only on a professional level, and appeared worried he might make things more difficult for Lainey.

"I'm sure. He's my AA sponsor and my friend. He might not like that I led him on in the beginning, but he'll get used to the idea."

Howry blew out a breath. "If you say so."

She grinned and gave him another hug. "I say so."

A loudspeaker announced the upcoming official start of the race, and Lainey pulled away from the embrace.

"I think that's me."

He laughed. "I'd say so. We're going to take your sled to Knik and then fly to Finger Lake, so we'll see you there."

"Ben, too?" Lainey saw a volunteer trotting toward her.

"Yeah, Ben, too."

"I'll see you then," she said, as she stepped onto the runners of her sled. Her last sight of him was his wave as the handlers guided the dogs to their position.

The start was very similar to the day before. A large, prismatic crowd gathered along the barriers on either side of the trail, many calling her name and holding signs of encouragement. Her dogs, sixteen strong now, were just as lively. Her wild man, Jonas, hardly touched the ground as he reared up off all four paws. Even Bonaparte, regal snout in the air, wagged his tail and trotted with a swagger at all the attention.

Lainey watched the two teams in front of her take off, each time feeling an impatience to get out on the trail as she was forced to wait. Her team echoed her sentiment, voicing their disapproval with yips and howls. Then she heard her name and number and was ushered into position. When the announcer called "Go!" she did not even command the dogs. Trace and Sholo shot down the chute, glad to be free as they raced away.

Once past the designated chute, Lainey pulled onto a snow covered highway. The way was smooth and easy, her dogs speeding along. She knew they would not keep this pace, but at least it would hold her competition at bay for the moment. Lainey fully expected Scotch to catch and pass her before the day was through.

Along the way, fans idled along the path. Several had fires or grills going and Lainey smelled burgers and steaks cooking as she went past. She had never thought to see hard core enthusiasts sitting on the side of a road with plastic lawn chairs, not with ten foot snow drifts only a little further beyond them. The whole scene was surreal as she waved to those calling to her. It reminded her of parades she had seen in the bigger cities, where the locals camped out on the sidewalks the night before to ensure a decent view of passing floats.

Up ahead, the road lifted, and she saw a yellow railroad crossing sign. A few volunteers loitered about the tracks with shovels, ready to pack snow between the rails should a train cut through the race. She grinned at the weirdness and kept on going.

The crowd never thinned as the miles went by. Lainey's team slowed to a more normal pace, and she relaxed into the now familiar sensation of mushing. She watched the dogs run, checking them for odd gaits indicating potential injury. Doing so was second nature for her, but this trail was an easy one and none of the dogs appeared to be nursing a shoulder or paw.

As it came closer to noon, it warmed up. With some care, she pulled her parka off, leaning over the handles to tuck it into the sled bag. Now she wore bib overalls and several layers of shirts and sweaters.

"Passing!"

Lainey craned her neck to see a team coming up behind her. As much as it galled her, she didn't attempt to speed up. While her heart, and that of her dogs, was set on the term 'race' the reality was the Iditarod was an endurance test. If she pushed her team to their limits now, they would scratch halfway through the course.

"Whoa," she said, as the musher began to overtake her. "Trace, Sholo, gee. Whoa."

The dogs pulled to the side of the road, and she set her snow hook. Now was as good a time as any to snack them. Her three trash talkers cussed out the passing team, but they were trained well enough to remain where they were rather than take chase.

Lainey grabbed a bag of frozen fish from her bag and went up the line, encouraging and praising each dog as she fed them. They reciprocated with licks and wags, letting her know they were ready for anything.

"Looking good!" a man said from the sidelines where he sat in an old rocking chair, nursing a cup of coffee. His family sat around him in beach chairs, echoing his sentiment, though none came forward to interfere.

"Thanks." Lainey smiled. Another team passed her as she double checked the gang line on her way back to the sled, and Chibee barked at them, shaking himself indignantly as they went on. She gave him a good scratching and finished her quick inspection.

The man raised his travel cup in salute. "To Nome or bust!"

Lainey laughed, stepping onto the runners and retrieving her snow hook. "To Nome," she repeated. To the dogs she called, "Ready? Let's go!"

It was not much longer before she reached Knik. The checkpoint was near the lake, and surrounded by a couple thousand fans. Barbecues and icy picnics seemed the order of the day, and voices rose in welcome as Lainey's team neared. The exuberant nature of the crowd reminded her of tailgate parties at the Superbowl.

She directed the team to the official checkpoint where she stopped. Her time in was noted, and she opened her sled bag to show her mandatory items. "How long you staying?" the checker asked.

Lainey saw Howry and Strauss waving at her near the checkers' station. "Just long enough to swap sleds," she said.

"Remember to check out when you go."

"I will." Lainey trotted to the front of the line and led her leaders toward her friends, not trusting them to voice commands when they were still so excited to be on the road.

Howry waved her ahead and she saw her sled waiting to one side. Strauss had a camera about his neck, and waggled it at her. "Since Don's covering Scotch, I figured I'd help you with your article."

She grinned, stopping the dogs in front of her replacement sled. "Good! I expect I'll get some photos once things settle down, but right now it's just too hectic." Lainey sped up the line. At the sled, she disconnected the gang line and shock cord, transferring her team to the new sled. With swift motions, she moved her gear over and double checked that everything she needed for the next fifty plus miles was in place. She removed her racing bib, packing it with the promotional package she carried; she would not need to wear it again until she left Safety for Nome.

The trail would leave civilization from here on out. In preparation, she stuffed dog booties in her pockets and went back up the line. She thoroughly examined each dog, checking paws for damage and replacing lost booties on each, and gave them a bite of moose liver.

"Time to go," she said.

"Good luck," Howry said, and Ben nodded agreement.

Lainey waved and hopped onto the sled runners. Pulling the snow hook, she paused only long enough to officially check out of Knik, having only been there for twelve minutes.

The trail climbed into a forested area, and trees soon hid the festive atmosphere at the lake. Her tension eased at the solitude, only now aware of how edgy the crowds had made her. She laughed aloud, the dogs' ears flicking back to listen to her. Of course she had been worried. Nothing like the rookie eating snow on the national news, huh? She had already left the trail so readily the day before. Lainey hoped her team would vindicate themselves from that little wrong turn by keeping the trail for the next thousand miles.

Winding through trees, dropping onto frozen marshland and ponds, it was smooth sailing for her. Several other teams passed, but she consoled herself with the possibility that they would burn themselves out and she would see them again as they ate her powder. Her dogs bad mouthed the passing teams, receiving like sentiments from their competition.

Lainey dropped down onto the Susitna River. Here she saw the occasional marks of dog teams that had pulled aside. Taking their cue, she did the same. As soon as they stopped, her dogs enjoyed a brisk roll in the snow, snapping up mouthfuls to cool themselves down.

"Snack time, guys," she said, shaking the bag of fish. "We'll have supper in a couple of hours." She made a cursory inspection as she went, small talking the dogs who were eager to show their appreciation for the break and her kind words. Many had lost their booties on the trail, and she replaced those that needed them.

The sun was beginning to set, and Lainey took the opportunity to get out her head lamp. She checked the batteries and bulb before fitting it over her musher cap, then made certain extra batteries were handy. It was starting to cool down, as well, so she put her parka back on. When all was ready, she called, "Okay, kids. Let's go."