Broken Trails (42 page)

When they crested what appeared to be the summit, Lainey's elation was dashed. The trail dropped into a steep ravine and rose again beyond. "God damn it!" she yelled. "Does this thing never end?"

She turned to look at her dogs, Trace and Montana flinching away from her anger, and she slumped.

"Sorry, guys," she apologized, easing forward to calm them. "It's not you I'm mad at." She petted and scratched, studying the rest of the team. They all sat where they stopped, conserving energy. At least they did not appear demoralized like Sholo had been before she dropped him.

"All right. Ready?"

Pleased with her attention, her leaders stood and chivvied their mates into position. The others stood up and shook themselves off.

"Let's go."

Lainey led them down into the short ravine. She had to run to keep ahead of the dogs, an awkward shuffle since she wore snow shoes. Her wheel dogs had a sled riding their asses, and the team needed to stay far enough ahead to keep them from being run over.

On the other side, the last bit of trail shot skyward and she tried to retain their speed as they climbed. That was impossible, of course, but they got several feet along before being forced to slow again.

At the summit, Lainey laughed aloud. They made it! The ever present wind plucked at her clothes, forcing her parka to billow from her waist. As much as she wanted to stop to congratulate her team and maybe get a photograph of the spectacular view, she knew they needed to get down.

"The worst is over, guys," she said, walking back toward the sled. "A little further along and you'll be chowing down on lunch."

She put her parka back on and stashed her snow shoes. There would still be bits of trail that were over blown, but it was all downhill from here. "Let's go!"

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

THE DESCENT WAS fast and icy, a dangerous combination. Trees lined the trail in several places, and Lainey had to stand on the brake and pad to keep from over running her dogs or losing control of the sled. The trail curved back and forth on top of it, creating a constant threat of tipping over or running into what trees were there. They hit the bottom hard and climbed a hundred foot ridge almost before they lost any speed.

On the other side of the ridge was the coast, the trail paralleling snow covered dunes. Somewhat level and with a fresh leader, her team picked up some speed. In a few places Lainey saw where other mushers had climbed out of the slough to ride on top of the dunes. The marked trail was visibly blown over in some places, and she decided to follow her predecessors' more experienced lead, directing Trace and Montana to climb onto the crest of the dune.

Here the ride was smoother, but the wind was a constant irritant. According to her notes, it actually had less force than what it would be in a few hours. Apparently, the wind had a tendency to die down just after dawn and pick up in the late afternoons. Lainey dug out her watch. It was coming up on noon now. Without even trying she had chosen the perfect time to travel this way. She certainly hoped it would not pick up too much. Sometimes the gusts were so bad, mushers could not leave out of the next checkpoint.

In the distance, she saw buildings and grinned. Almost there! As her team neared the abandoned town of Shaktoolik, she sluggishly estimated her time on the trail. It had been four, maybe four and a half hours since they left Unalakleet. The next section of trail was to Koyuk, about sixty miles away. After the exhausting twelve hour stretch she had run the day before, she did not think it would be a good idea to forge past this checkpoint regardless of the threat of being forced to remain longer than planned. At the very least, the dogs needed a full meal in their bellies and a short nap. Lainey could only hope the winds would not gust too strongly in the afternoon.

She studied her team, searching for failing moods and energy levels. They all ran steady and strong. Montana still swaggered and Chibee loped along, snatching mouthfuls of snow to quench his thirst. All in all, they looked damned good, and Lainey felt tears stinging her eyes as her fatigue released control of her emotions. She laughed aloud at her maudlin feelings. Who needed to get drunk with liquor? Exhaustion created the same sensations, it appeared, hallucinations included.

They passed the old town and more buildings became visible ahead. New Shaktoolik beckoned.

Lainey checked in at the National Guard Armory. Her team was guided around to the south side of the building, where the wind was less of a bother. She immediately fed the dogs and prepared them for sleep. The winds would be picking up when she planned to leave, but they really needed to rest a bit before the next section. She only planned on remaining for about four hours, hardly time for her to get any sleep at all.

Cold water was available, and she set about cooking up the next batch of food for her team and herself. She thawed the buttered rolls from Galena, fondly remembering Harris and the others who had donated butter and oil to her. It had lasted a lot longer than she had expected and was a welcome additive with this frigid wind. As much as she had wanted to get more, she had left Unalakleet before the stores opened. With some regret, she cut the last stick of donated butter into the dog chow along with the additives she had in her food drop. She still had a half gallon of cooking oil, but that would only last her another couple of stops.

As much as she wanted to sleep, Lainey forced herself to stand and move around. Sleeping now might mean the difference of three or four places and the Rookie of the Year award. She was afraid she might not hear her alarm when it was time to move on, sleeping in was not an option. With nothing constructive to do while the dogs rested, she stepped into the armory checkpoint to look over the standings.

Scotch was still out on the trail with most of the top veterans. Georgio Spencer was already in White Mountain and it was anybody's guess who else would arrive next. Jon Waters, Drew Owens and Dave Creavey were all in the same pack. Scotch was not the only woman in the sweet spot, either. Alice Westin, a ten year veteran, was right up there with the rest. Lainey wondered if any of them were getting nervous at Scotch's proximity to first place. As it was, even if she came in behind all of them, she would still place higher than she ever had.

"Lainey Hughes?"

She turned with a smile. "Yeah?"

A volunteer smiled at her. "Thought that was you. I saw you had checked in," she said, nodding at the board. "I've got something for you."

Lainey's expression was amused curiosity. Certainly Harris and his cronies could not send butter and oil all the way over here, would they?

The volunteer pulled a crinkled envelope out of her pocket. "Scotch told me to give this to you when you came in. I'm glad you decided to lay over or I would have missed you!"

"Thanks." Lainey took the envelope with a grin. She paused long enough to grab a cup of coffee from an urn and sat at a rickety table to open her treasure.

Lainey,

You've made it this far! You can finish, I know it!

The trip to Koyuk is going to be the worst - flat, straight, and boring as hell. Don't let it get you down. Don't stop. It's less than fifty miles but I guarantee it'll feel like a hundred fifty. Put on your iPod and keep yourself entertained, but don't get complacent. Keep alert and watch for the trail signs.

I dare you to make it to Nome. Double dog dare you.

I'll be waiting,

Scotch

"Double dog dare, huh?" she murmured aloud. She doubted either of their teams would be pleased with her slander, providing they understood the words. Her eyes watered and she held the note to her chest. That was one thing she would not miss when this was over - these over emotional responses.

Sniffling, Lainey glanced around self consciously, but no one else appeared to notice her minor outburst. She reread the note three times before putting it back into its envelope and tucking it into her bib pocket. Had Scotch written it after arriving here or before she even started the race? There was that note that Howry had given her at the starting line -- Lainey blinked.

She was supposed to have read that one at her first eight hour break and had completely forgotten it! Word from Scotch, even old and outdated word, was better than none. Lainey grabbed her parka and hastened outside to her sled.

The dogs slept on, hardly rousing at her arrival. She opened her personal bag and rooted through the munchies and camera gear to find a crumpled and slightly smudged envelope. Grinning, Lainey sank down to the sled and opened her letter.

Lainey,

If you waited to read this like Don told you, you've reached the Yukon. Congratulations! You've made it past the worst obstacles the first part of the race has thrown at you.

The next bit gets tricky. The trail isn't the danger now, you are. It's so easy to fall into the traps here. You can exhaust your dogs as you try to beat other mushers, getting caught up in the 'race.' Or you can allow the lack of sleep and the poor diet to bring you down until you wallow in emotional trauma or even make yourself sick.

Be aware of the reality of the situation. As much fun as it is to kick some musher's ass on a sprint, it isn't worth exhausting the dogs. The Iditarod started as a medical emergency run, but it's all about the dogs now.

As for the depression, I want you to know that no matter what you think or feel about yourself, I love you.

Lainey gasped aloud and reread that sentence. Scotch had never spoken those words. Swallowing against a lump in her throat, her heart thumping fast, she returned to reading.

As for the depression, I want you to know that no matter what you think or feel about yourself, I love you. I know I could have chosen a better way to tell you, but we've been busy getting everything prepared for the race and there's been no time to really talk about our situation. I had planned on telling you when you got to Nome, but watching you sleep has inspired me to get out of bed and write this.

I have no idea what our future holds, Lainey, but I do know I want one with you. Maybe I'm putting too much pressure on you; I mean, you've traveled the world. Surely that's more fun than hanging out in Alaska with a bunch of smelly dogs. But no matter what you decide, I'll support you, okay?

Well, now I'm getting emotional. I think it's time to close.

Keep going, Lainey. I know you can make it to Nome. You've survived so much... what's a thousand mile dog sled race, huh?

Love,

Scotch

Lainey sniffled and sobbed, not entirely certain which emotion was the strongest. Surprise, of course. The last thing she expected was a love letter from Scotch. Not that the blonde was unromantic, but she focused mainly on the kennel and its operations. She and Lainey had spent many nights at the cabin, curled in front of the fireplace, talking about all sorts of things and this subject had never come up.

Relief rolled over her like a warm fuzzy blanket, relaxing Lainey from a tension she had not known she carried. Since Howry's discovery of her true feelings for Scotch, Lainey had spent a lot of time attempting to fight off the reality. She had never loved anyone before, but she had seen friends and acquaintances fall and fall hard. Not many made it out the other side intact, especially when the object of their affections did not share them. Lainey's biggest worry was that Scotch would want a fling and nothing more, urging her to leave for the next gig with nary a thought beyond a fun lay. Yet now Lainey discovered that Scotch felt the same way as she.

The plans Lainey had dreamed up on the trail suddenly loomed in her mind. Even as she had schemed there was always the concern that Scotch would laugh in her face. But now? Now it seemed that her idea of having Scotch along with her for future freelance gigs seemed plausible. Maybe she could have the best of both worlds.

Her tears were ice upon her cheeks, and she wiped them away, forcing herself to stand. The note went back into its envelope and joined the one already in her bib coverall pocket. Snuffling, she dug out her toilet paper and blew her nose, depositing the wadded mess into a small trash bag in her sled.

"You okay?"

Lainey turned to see a musher hovering over his sled. She could not remember his name, but knew he was a rookie like herself. He had started far back in the pack; he must be good or he would not have made it so far, so fast.

"Bad news?" he asked, obviously referring to the letter she had tucked away.

"Good news," she said, her smile somewhat tremulous.

"Good for you." He nodded. "How long you staying?"

Her competitive edge raced to the fore and she tried to recall if he had been there when she checked in earlier. Glancing casually at her watch, she realized he had just come in. It had been two and a half hours and she had less than two to go before she wanted to leave. "I'm thinking of staying for a full seven hours," she lied. "We took the Kaltag to Unalakleet in one lump and the dogs still really need the rest."

He nodded again, eyeing her in speculation. "Sounds like a plan. I hear the next stretch is boring as hell."

"Me, too." Lainey said her good byes and headed back toward the checkpoint. She needed to stay awake long enough for him to fall asleep. From here on out, every musher would begin to think of the Iditarod as a race, not an endurance run. No more working or running together. Getting to Nome before everyone else was the goal.

Smiling, she stepped into the armory, pressing the letters against her chest.

Getting to Nome was definitely the goal.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

THE UNNAMED ROOKIE decided to weather his break inside the armory rather than in the elements. While he slumped at a table, head on his arms, Lainey yawned and made a production of going out to her sled for some shut eye. Her ruse did not work completely, however. Once she began the process of waking her dogs and cooking a quick meal for all of them, another musher appeared from the checkpoint building. The woman grinned and winked at her before beginning her own chores. Lainey sighed. At least the rookie had not gotten suspicious.