Onward and Other Directions

Will Troshynski / ATAO Kennel

A Podcast About Sled Dogs, Mental Health, and Finding Your Way Home

Season 1

  1. Episode 1

    Episode 1: Is This Recording?

    In which Will explains mushing, his journey to Iditarod, and why the audio of the first recording on the trail is so bad. Also in which you learn which dogs will join the team on their first ever Iditarod. On the way, Will and the team embark on the final training run before the race, and Will digs in more into his own journey as a trans guy and how he got into mushing at all. Rogue is naughty. Listen on Apple Podcasts • View Plain Text Transcript Check out the emails that Buddies received before the race began! Iditarod Begins: Drop Bags Iditarod Begins: At the Vet Iditarod Begins: More Vet Adventures! Iditarod Begins: Bib Draw Iditarod Begins: Sled Build Iditarod Begins: Musher’s Banquet Iditarod Begins: Driving to Willow   View Transcript Onward and Other Directions Episode 1: Is This Recording? [guitar strumming] Is this recording? Just kidding. I know this is recording, because right now I’m sitting in front of a microphone plugged into a computer. But, for a few times each day during the first half of March, I spent a lot of time digging my phone out from a lot of layers, protecting it with one hand, and hitting the red button on the voice memos app. After I listened back to all of that audio, it seemed the most common thing I said to start off was “Is this recording?” The reason it was so hard to tell is that I was in the middle of running my first Iditarod. My fingers were freezing, the temperatures got down to the negative 50s, and it is pretty hard to negotiate seven-plus layers, with or without gloves. So, I think it makes sense that it’s pretty much the first thing out of my mouth every time. Over the ten days of the 2021 Iditarod Sled Dog Race, I made 17 recordings. Some are almost two hours long; some are just a few minutes. I recorded my thoughts and my plans; I recorded silly conversations between me and the dogs; I recounted stories that had just happened.  I took audio of myself going through some of the infamous obstacles of the race. I recorded myself falling asleep and talking utter nonsense for MILES. And…my plan is to share that experience with you. But, maybe we should back up a minute, before we go ONWARD… ***** If you’re listening to this, most likely you know what mushing is. You know who I am; you know what the Iditarod is. But, just in case someone wanders this way who doesn’t know much about mushing or about my team — ATAO Kennel — I thought I’d record a primer episode, so to speak. If you are already an ATAO Buddy or you’ve been following mushing for years, this one might be kind of old hat. You might be more into skipping it and moving straight to the start of the race. Totally do it! But, if you have no idea who I am, what ATAO stands for, what “mushing” actually is, or why someone would be wild enough to travel 800 miles with a pack of dogs, this one’s for you! And, I mean, if you might enjoy hearing someone go on and on about mushing, you’re in the right place. ***** My name is Will Troshynski. I am a trans guy who mushes sled dogs. I can’t really talk about myself without talking about mushing, so let’s start there. In super basic terms, sled dog mushing is a group of dogs, pulling a sled, usually with a human riding on the sled in some fashion. Mushing isn’t just restricted to sleds. Dog mushing, of any sort, is the ambitious idea of connecting usually between 2-16 dogs to some sort of transport. And, then, amazingly, letting them pull you! People do this with all sorts of things — wagons, go carts, skateboards, scooters, cars (with or without engines inside)… For some reason, the idea of letting your rowdy and excited canine best buddies drag you along the ground, touches off something that is just deep inside of us. That desire has certainly sparked some ill-advised adventures! And it’s also created some MAGIC. Part of the magic — the part that I know the best — is sled dog mushing. Modern dog sleds are a fairly lightweight construction. They have two runners that slide over snow or ice, basically like skis. There’s a basket that your gear goes into, and then there’s a place for you to stand and a place for you to hold onto. And you REALLY want to hold on. The thing about mushing of any kind, is that you better be prepared for a RIDE! If you know dogs, you know that they love to run. I mean, yes, we all know some canine couch potatoes. But most dogs — from the littlest chihuahua to the biggest mastiff — LOVE. TO. RUN. Whether it’s chasing someone or feeling the wind in their fur, running and dogs are “a thing.” When a sled dog and a harness come together, it is something beautiful. Think about your dog getting ready for her walk, and then amp it up by like a thousand. And instead of asking a dog to stay nicely by your heel, imaging letting them go, hitting the end of the leash, and then, with the  power of a bunch of their friends, being able to move the pack — together. She’s in her ELEMENT. She’s going further, faster, and evermore towards the next thing, to sniff and see and experience. When a group of dogs comes together to run, there’s an energy to it that is — it’s spiritual. There’s a connection to it. The human hanging onto the sled gets the privilege of being the water boy to nature’s most amazing team. Are there dogs who don’t want to run? [Scoff] Of course there are! Dogs, like humans, are individuals, and they all have different personalities. Huskies tend to REALLY want to run, to understate it. But every now and then, you’ll meet a husky who plainly and clearly says, “No thank you. I am good.” So what happens to that dog? Well, they make themselves a super comfy spot on the couch. Huskies who aren’t into running most typically become a house pet. They either become the pet of a musher — I know several in our neighborhood — or they are able to become pets in a house anywhere around the world. Some of those huskies might prefer fetch or they might not just like running in a group. And so they’d be really good for like ski-jor, which is when one husky pulls you by your skis — and notice I’m saying “YOUR” because I am not good at skiing.  Sled dogs, though, are sled dogs, because 99.9 percent of them are all in for running. It’s what they think about day and night. When they dream, they have running dreams. If you give them a choice of activities, they pick running. And that is over ANYthing else — eating, sleeping, whatever — they would prefer to run. Pull out a harness, and a sled dog goes wild! A walk around the block is NOT enough for these dogs. And when you get a group of these dogs together and they realize that they have the power to pull a thing, they don’t really care if you are attached or not. They will pull it. They will run. They will keep running. It’s a thing. That’s why the number one rule in mushing is DON’T LET GO OF THE SLED! If you do let go of the sled, say goodbye. ‘Cause the team’s going to keep going until someone comes along to catch the sled and put the brake or the anchor in. It’s like their genes switch on to this age-old practice. They just want more trail, more running. It’s the same feeling as when they howl together. It’s tuning in to this ancient part of themselves And it makes sense, because dog mushing has been around for a really long time. Some anthropologists argue that mushing may have been around for as long as domesticated dogs and Arctic living have coincided. Which also makes perfect sense. The practice of sled dog mushing was originated by native communities in the Arctic, around the world. For thousands of years, it was the prime mode of transport in those areas during the winter time. When settlers colonized the Arctic regions, they also colonized the practice of mushing And that’s it’s whole, own subject. There’s a lot of work to pay back the debt of appropriated knowledge, not just systemically, but for myself, personally. I live and mush dogs primarily on Tanana/Dena’i land, and I’m working to learn more about the roots of the sport that I am part of colonizing. French colonizers on Inuit, Nunavik, Cree and other Native peoples’ lands, were supposedly the first White settlers to learn to mush in North America. And the word “mush” comes from the French word “marcher” (which I am definitely not saying right, but means something like “walk” or “go”). Mushing persisted throughout the Arctic reasons as long it there was winter and not machines. During the Gold Rush, miners were so eager to have their dogs pull their gear that they infamously stole pet dogs right out of peoples’ yards. And that’s the genesis for “Call of the Wild,” if you haven’t read it. (Don’t see it. It looks really bad! Sorry, Harrison Ford. So “not good.”) Supposedly, the mixing of all the different breeds of these stolen dogs with the northern breeds — like the Siberian huskies or Inuit huskies — ultimately created the dog called the “Alaskan husky.” So, there are different kinds of sled dogs. What you imagine when you first think of sled dogs and what you see in a lot of the media, is probably a fluffy, black-and-white dog with big blue eyes. That’s usually a Siberian husky or a Malamute. Siberian huskies and Malamutes are older breeds of sled dogs. Neither of them is as common any more. Siberians do run in races, but the most common sled dog these days — in both sprint racing and distance racing — is the Alaskan husky. We call them “purebred Alaskan mutts,” because they’re a mix. Alaskan huskies have a lot of different things within their breeds. Basically, whatever wants to RUN MORE. They have a lot of the northern breeds — Siberians, Samoyed, Inuit huskies, even a little wolf. They also have Greyhound, German Shorthaired Pointer, even Shiba Inu, and a lot of other real

    Episode 1: Is This Recording?
  2. Episode 2

    Episode 2: Trail!

    The race begins! Will talks to us about the oddity of finally being on the Iditarod. The team is passed… A few times! The phone is put into a precarious position. Listen on Apple Podcasts • View Plain Text Transcript Check out the emails that Buddies received as the race was beginning! Here’s the Lineup for Iditarod 2021!!! Getting Set And they’re off! More photos from today   View Transcript Onward and Other Directions Episode 2: Trail! Hi, I’m Will. I live with 28 dogs and together we travel across the winter landscape of Alaska. They run and I hang on to a rickety sled behind them. Our team is called ATAO Kennel. This is Onward and Other Directions, a podcast where I take you along our first Iditarod through recordings I made throughout the race in March of 2021. The Iditarod is one of the longest sled dog races in the world. And I’ve been working towards running it since I started mushing in the year 2000. This episode is the first recording on the race. The team and I have left the starting line and are on our way. We’re traveling along wide braided rivers towards Skwentna, the first resupply checkpoint in the race. We will actually end up stopping to camp about 10 miles before Skwentna at mile 50 of the race as part of our race plan. This recording is a few hours into the run and a few hours before we camp. [Musical transition] All right. Are we recording? I can’t tell Oh, looks like it. All right. Well, we’re a couple hours into the Iditarod. Maybe I’ll throw in some cool audio from the start. I really didn’t have the capacity to record then. Also, I have no idea how these recordings are gonna sound. They could just totally be garbage. But I gotta keep having to stop and wave at people. A lot of people were on the river still, that we’ll be on for, uh, another like, well, like a total of 80 miles basically. Er, yeah, about 80 miles, I think. And then, um, and then we’ll finally kind of head up into the mountains, but. Yup. Still on the river and there’ve been a lot of snowmachiners and families and little camps waving us on. [Loudly aside to someone else] Oh, sorry. Whoa. You moved faster than I thought. You guys ready? [Back towards the audience] That was Aaron Burmeister calling trail to pass. And, uh, I’m sure you can hear the plane noise. [To someone else] Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. [To audience] People saying good luck and see you next week. Also, there’s a plane landing about, I don’t know, twenty feet away from me. The dogs don’t seem to care. It is… It’s really weird to see so many people when you’re mushing. And I’m guessing [To the dogs] Haw! Haw! [To audience] I’m guessing that they, uh — there’s a person walking down the river, and the dogs wanted to go over to her. [To the person walking] My dogs thought you were calling them. My dogs thought you were calling them. [To audience] Yeah, it’s uh weird. Yeah, unfortunately, I don’t know how COVID friendly the, uh, these gatherings are. Mostly seems like it’s kind of like individual families and they’re far apart from each other. But I definitely think this is one fear that holding the Iditarod, you know, kind of incurred. Um. Anyway, I feel kinda silly that I didn’t hear Aaron calling trail. He gave me some really good advice about nutrition, but um. Anyway. When you call trail, the other person’s supposed to stop and pull over. Which I did, as soon as I realized, um, what was going on. I thought it was somebody else yelling, cause we were kind of in so much commotion there. It’s a really hot day. It finally started to cool off a little bit, but when we left it was in the high 20s, and the sun was just beating down, and these guys have not really been running at that kind of a temperature. We did do a run, the last run we did ended up in the 20s, but, I mean, that’s just like not been our norm. So, um, I feel like they’re moving just a little bit slower. I also made the mistake of, um, uh, they had kind of a bigger meal before we took off, which I didn’t intend for them to have, and, um, they probably should have just had like a broth. So we did our first snack stop and they were like, eh, I’m good. [To someone else] Thank you. Oh! Alright! [To audience] That guy told us “It’s all about fun.” [Others in background] Good luck! [Will, replying] Thank you. [Others] Have fun! [Will, replying] Thank you. [Will, to audience] There’s a lot of kids. And when I tell them, thank you, about half of them say You’re welcome. Like, yeah, you should thank me. That’s pretty funny. Anyway, these guys are moving slow. But it’s hard because I mean, notoriously this first leg, you really want to go fast. So maybe it’s kind of a blessing in disguise that it’s a little hotter. And these guys don’t really want to move as fast. Because ideally, we’re going between eight and nine miles on this first leg, average. And that’s exactly where we are. In fact, we’re actually on the high side of that a little bit. When I check on my GPS to see our speed. We keep being kind of above nine, which is a little faster than I want to go. So I have to keep slowing them down. Everybody else. I mean, like a lot of the other mushers that we’re passing are, um, going pretty fast, so it’s uh, it’s definitely a weird comparison, like Aaron is gone already. He’s like, he flew by us. And he’s going forward. I mean, he’s probably going like, I don’t know, 11… 10 or 11 miles per hour. And because this race is so different, a lot of people might end up going faster for the whole thing. Because it’s quite a bit shorter. But um [sneezes] oh, gosh, [sneezes again] sorry. Oh, I bet that was loud. I didn’t put my gaiter on because it’s so hot this morning. So my neck is kind of cold now. Alright. Alright, come on, Belle. Go! Alright. Alright. Let’s go. Good, good girls. There you go. We’ve got Belle and Rey in lead, who are really great, steady pair, Rey is just three. And she’s kind of she really started leading mostly last year. She’s a great leader, she’s really smart. But she is still learning some things. And one of the things she still needs to keep practicing is pooping and running at the same time when she’s in the front of the team. Because it is a little bit more tricky, uh, um, so that’s what she was trying to do just there, and, um, yeah, Belle had to kind of help her keep going forward. because ideally, they poop and run at the same time. I mean, they– it’s pretty amazing. When I’ve done tours, or whatever, with sled dogs, and I feel like that’s probably the most amazing, or that’s the thing that amazes the tourists the most is that they poop and run at the same time. They’re really good at it. So. If we stopped every time they pooped, we would not go very, very far. You know, one thing that’s been, I don’t know, kind of a telltale thing on this beginning leg already is that, um, when I first started mushing dogs, I used to think that, like, okay, I’ll give ’em a break, you know, every couple miles, cause they’re gonna like that, like I would like a break if I was running, every couple miles, but then I did actually start myself running, like distance running, and I realized that, if you stop every couple miles, you like lose all of your momentum, and it just turns into a crappy run. So the best thing, ideally, is, um, is actually to, um, to keep going and try to stop as little as possible. So, right now, we’re — even though it feels like we’re kind of moving slow, and we don’t necessarily have total forward momentum, like, the dogs are a little bit, like, kind of distracted. They see another team, and they like yeah! They’re hot, definitely, really hot. Which is another reason to keep ’em slow, you know, not try to push ’em really hard in this hot weather, um, but, again, like that’s part of our strategy is to stay slow, stay in that middle range and then keep in the middle range. Like that’s our, that’s our goal. But anyway, yeah, the dogs are kind of like a little all over the place. I mean, which is totally understandable. It’s like… it’s a new experience, it’s uh. There’s a lot going on. I mean, like you heard all those machines, there’s birds, we’re on a totally different trail that all of them except for Emmy have been on, so it’s uh. Yeah, this is a whole new world, for sure. And um, so. Yeah. I guess I’m kind of distracted, too, which I’m sure is adding to that energy, because I can’t remember why I was talking about being distracted, but, um, hopefully even though we don’t — I think I was saying, even though we don’t have that forward drive necessarily, we um. I mean, they’ve got the drive. We’re going forward. Um. Oh, I was talking about making all the stops, even though, yeah, like their energy is kind of like all over the place, stopping every few miles, which I was doing, because for a couple reasons, one, because they were hot, and I really wanted them to be able to get snow and roll in the snow, cool off a little bit. But two, because you know, it’s at the beginning of a race, you ended up getting passed by a lot of teams. I’m right- I was- I started basically right in the middle. So I [had] 20 teams behind me. And yeah, I think I’ve been passed now by almost 10 of them. I don’t know if you can hear that background noise. But it’s the, uh, it is the it’s snow machines like racing up and down this river. And I just for some context, the river is probably like, I don’t know. It’s hard to tell without like perspective, but like half a football field, the football field wide, something like that. Huge, it’s really wide. These rivers in Alaska are like really, really wide, sprawling rivers. So the snow machines are also on the river, but they’re, they’re really far a

    Episode 2: Trail!
  3. Episode 3

    Episode 3: Finger Lake

    Will shares some stories of the journey from his first run to Finger Lake, and then records audio in the checkpoint itself. Runaway dogs, exciting trail snacks, and inexplicable gatorade-flavored meals. Listen on Apple Podcasts • View Plain Transcript Check out the emails that Buddies received as Will was headed into Finger Lake! Will and Martin Buser just passed! Passing through Skwentna N   View Transcript Onward and Other Directions Episode 3: Finger Lake Hi, it’s Will again. Last time we were here, I had just taken off on the very first leg of my very first Iditarod, one of the longest sled dog races in the world. Me and my team of 14 dogs, AKA my best friends recorded some audio about halfway into that very first run. I rambled about a lot of things. My poor spouse, Shawn, who is very logical, is at wit’s end trying to keep track of all these conversations, and I got passed by several teams. For that first run, I stuck to my game plan pretty tightly. Shortly after the recording I made, my team and I pass through Yentna station, the first sort of checkpoint of the race. It’s a “sort-of” checkpoint because there are no drop bags there. Drop bags are the bags that are flown ahead of teams down the trail. There is no way a sled could carry the amount of food that sled dogs eat during a race like this. We packed and mailed about 1200 pounds for this race, and we were very much on the light side of what folks normally pack. Most of that weight is kibble and meat. The dogs eat around 10,000 calories a day while they race. Other supplies that are sent in drop bags or things like blankets to make the dogs cozy at the checkpoints while they rest, human meals and snacks, batteries, gloves, vet supplies, and much more. While Yentna Station did not have bags, it did provide straw and heet — HEET — better known as antifreeze. We burn that in specially made cookers to melt snow and boil water for the dog’s food. It’s an essential component of long-distance mushing. The Iditarod provides heat along the whole trail, including Yentna. As my race plan dictated, I grabbed both straw and heet in Yentna. I was a little surprised to see how close to the start Yentna it was. It registered on my GPS is only 40 miles or so from the start line. According to what the race had told us, it ought to have been about 50 miles. I wondered if Skwentna, the first official actual checkpoint, would really be 72 miles as it was predicted to be. Regardless, my race plan called for me to camp around or just after 50 miles. I debated continuing all the way to Skwentna. I talked in the first recording about how warm the first day was. But by the time I hit Yentna, the sun was starting to set, and the temperature was dropping. The dogs were much happier to have some cooler weather and were starting to move well. Its 72-mile run wouldn’t be entirely out of their wheelhouse. But the whole reason for my plan to camp before Skwentna was to avoid the notorious hullabaloo that happens with the whole field of mushers camped at the first checkpoint. I wanted the dogs to get a nice rest. Plus, with COVID restrictions in place, it sounded like I’d be sleeping next to my sled either way. I’d much rather do that in a camping setting alone on the side of the trail versus a checkpoint where teams would be coming and going with a lot of commotion. One of the key elements of strategy of a race like the Iditarod is determining when and where to rest, and for how long. I had laid out my race plan. It was a slightly ballsy strategy, I was aiming to do a lot of long runs. The reason I was aiming for this was the performance of the team this season, and what they seemed to be excelling at. It was the long runs where they were shining, so I decided to take the best advantage of that that I could. My speed would be consistent if I was lucky. I aimed for eight to nine miles per hour the whole race. On our first run, it was a little less than that because of the sunny slog through the middle of the day. The only other major factor was seeing how long to rest. My plan aimed for four and six hour rests. The first dress we’d take would be a four hour rest at our 50 mile camp. It had gotten dark by the time we found a place to camp just around 50 miles. We were able to snag a nice pull off made by a snow machine that veered off the trail. I started my clock for the countdown of when we’d leave. During a break, the dogs rest and eat, but the musher works. This is the time that the musher becomes actually useful to the team. I did my best to maintain efficiency as I pulled off dog booties, laid out straw for the dogs to bed down on, put coats on everyone so they’d stay warm and snuggly, and prepared and fed dinner to the dogs. I put one of my own vacuum sealed meals — I think it was a calzone — into the water as it heated up and scarfed down my own dinner between chores. I checked everyone’s feet, meticulously noting previously known sores or concerns. Generally everyone looked good. Belle and Cassidy had sore feet, so I treated them with special ointments. Taking care of the dog’s feet is one of the number one most important parts of a long race like this. I was able to get my work done with enough time to get an hour of sleep myself. It was somewhere around 11pm or midnight by the time I laid down and I set my phone alarm for one hour with my watch as a backup. I pulled off my boots and crawled into my negative 40 sleeping bag. My thermometer said it was about negative 11. I fell asleep almost immediately. I woke up on time and started my pre-exit chores. Part of what I had to do was shorten the gang line. I had set up the gang line, which connects all the dogs together, with two open spots. But sometimes the team didn’t seem to run as well with the extra space. So I decided to take a section out. The best way to do that was from the front. I removed the leader section and shuffled dogs around, I decided that sisters Belle and Aurora would be a good choice to lead the next leg. I switched them to be next to each other and connected them to a part of the line further back as I removed one section of the gang line to make the setup have no extra spaces anymore. As I made the final touch to the new configuration, Aurora and Bell decided that this was the signal to go and headed down the trail. Somehow I connected them to each other but not to anything else. Sometimes this happens with sled dogs, and every time I’ve seen it, the dogs go running off side by side like they are in the team, but the team is just them. That’s what the two sisters did. Part of the training that we do in the summer is called free play, where we let the dogs run loose and play with each other. This is a very important component of training for a lot of reasons. But this particular situation is a good example. I wasn’t worried that the dogs would disappear. I was confident they’d be back once they realized the rest of the pack hadn’t gone with them down the trail. I had to affix the line back down in front so that the rest of the team wouldn’t get tangled. I kept looking down the dark trail to see if Aurora and Belle were on the way back yet, but I didn’t see them. I was calling for them every now and then whistling happily to let them know where I was, but not chasing them. I started to feel nervous that they’d gotten it in their heads to get to the next checkpoint, or that something else was happening around the bend in the trail. Just as I was about to give up, the two goofy sisters came careening back down the trail as if to say, “Where the heck are you? Let’s go!” They didn’t come towards the camping team but took the main trail running by us, towards the start line, almost showing off. Suddenly, behind my sled, I saw a light. A musher was coming and now Aurora and Belle were running right at the oncoming team. I dove off our snow machine track where we were camping and into the deep snow between there and the trail. With three huge steps, I made it to the trail and — calling both happily and frantically — managed to convince Aurora and Belle to come say hi. I snatched them off the trail just as the other team shuttled by. Whoops! I got Aurora and Belle, who were both very proud of themselves back into the team. I think I put them back in lead. Heck, they had already scouted out a lot of the trail. I bootied the dogs, which is another of the most important jobs of a musher. We hit the trail in the dark and only 12 miles later we were in Skwentna. We were only at mile 61. The leap from 61 miles to 72 miles is a bit bigger than you might think. Especially since I didn’t want to stop in Skwentna. Had I known the checkpoint was only a mile 60 I would have planned to camp just after sweat not it would have meant I could have carried less than my sled on the way to our first camp because I would have been able to just grab supplies from my drop bags from Skwentna itself. My plan called for me to grab supplies there and straw and to camp a few miles outside of Finger Lake. Since Skwentna was earlier than expected, if Finger Lake was at the projected mile marker, it would mean carrying straw at least 10 miles further than I expected. I was also already learning that without a tail dragger — in other words, a section of the sled behind where I stand on the runners, which a lot of mushers used as a seat — carrying straw was difficult at best. I knew from past races that the climb up to Finger Lake was more technical than river trails. All of this information flashed through my brain as I pulled into the checkpoint of Skwentna. The checkers were happy to see me and announced that I was the last musher in that stung my pride a little bit, and I had to remind myself that I was sticking to my plan. And that of course I was the last musher in, having been passed quite a bit and having camped before the check

    Episode 3: Finger Lake
  4. Episode 4

    Episode 4: The Steps

    Will and the team are fresh off their rest at Finger Lake, and are ready to tackle the Happy River Steps, one of the major obstacles of the race. View Transcript Onward and Other Directions Episode 4: The Steps Hi, everybody. Will here. Thanks for tuning in again for Onward and Other Directions, a podcast where my team of Alaskan huskies and I bring you along for our very first Iditarod in recordings I made along the trail. This is episode four. The team and I have started the race. We traveled over rivers for 80 miles, camping once along the way for four hours. We started our climb into the Alaska range, which is the mountain range that Denali, the tallest peak in North America, is part of and rested at Finger Lake, one of the checkpoints along the route. While the dogs rested, I did chores and vet care and chatted to some fellow mushers. This recording takes place on the run right after we leave Finger Lake. It’s one of my favorite pieces of audio from the entire race. We’re heading towards the checkpoint of Rainy Pass on a beautiful sunny afternoon. This run contains the infamous Happy River Steps, a series of three sharp drops, which have gained acclaim over the years for many crashes and wipeouts. The Steps were one of the two biggest obstacles on the trail that I’ve been thinking about for years, hoping I would be able to drive through them successfully. As I left the finger Lake checkpoint, I knew my moment of truth with this pretty iconic part of Iditarod lore was approaching fast. This recording starts shortly after the beginning of the run. All right. Am I recording? It’s hard to see. Oh, yep, looks like I am. So we’re on the run to Rainy Pass, which has the infamous Happy River Steps on it somewhere. I keep thinking the next thing is going to be it and then it’s not, or I don’t think it is anyway. I’m pretty sure not. Anyway, every single time I’m like maybe this is it, which is how I’m feeling right now. Ope, there’s a little whoop-dee-doo. See if we can hang on there. This could be it. I just carved a new path. It’s a pretty snowy year. So I — in theory, I don’t think it’ll be that bad, except there’s probably going to be a big old trench carved out of it. But um, yeah, I don’t really know. I know the steps are these three big drops. That’s all I really know about it. Uh. And it does look like we’re heading towards downhill. We kind of climbed for a while. We’re in this really beautiful trail that crosses the Alaska range. It’s so cool. It feels like we’re out like in Colorado or something like these really big old cottonwoods. And not pine trees, but spruce trees that are like pretty old and tall, not, not the little scraggly friends. Um. And, yeah, the mountains are really just like right in your face and phenomenal, beautiful. So this is really cool to see. This is the first part of the trail so far that I have not been on, which is really refreshing. That’s something I’ve discovered this year a lot is that I get really uplifted when I’m getting to go on a new trail. I’ve mushed on a lot of different trails in Alaska. And including the first like 120 miles of the Iditarod trail because of a race that used to go up there to the last checkpoint I was just at, Finger Lake. And so all of that trail I’d been on before and you know, for whatever reason, that’s not as… just doesn’t… it’s not as exciting. And it’s also kind of like… Wow, the mountains are just so cool. I mean it, the mountains look like the Rockies, too. Like Alaska and mountains are definitely different than the Rockies, which I think feel kind of… I’m not sure if this is geologically correct, but I think it seems like they’re older and more like rocky as you might suspect. And this part of the Alaska range that we’re in looks like that, where you’re seeing like the blue, gray exposed rock kind of coming out underneath the snow or between the snow and the… The edges of them are more worn or something. Anyway, just feels like we’re in an older part of the, of the landscape and yeah, and huge trees and these really beautiful tucked away little valleys and brooks and rivers. This is just so cool. I am in hog heaven right now. This is so cool. I am like a kid in a candy store. My mouth is just like agape when I’m not talking to you. So yeah, being on this new trail has been awesome. Being on the old trail, on trails I’ve been on before I keep looking for landmarks that I know are there, and so I know to expect them, but I don’t know exactly when to expect them. And it ends up being really, like laborious. And so like I know the Finger Lake checkpoint, I know that it’s on a lake and I just keep thinking every corner we come around is going to be on this lake. And it’s not. That’s kind of what I’m doing here. Like expecting the steps any minute. But also, it’s just I’m surrounded by the most gorgeous scenery, and I have never been here before. So it’s so cool. I’m yeah, I just feel transported to a totally magical world. It’s another beautiful day, which is nice, but it is also hot and sunny. We… So I wanted to leave the checkpoint of Finger Lake at noon. And we ended up leaving a little after one because… And actually I was right on course to leave right at one, but Miss Ophelia decided to be a jerk and go after poor Zenny. Ophelia is in heat, and she’s already kind of a crank. So yeah, when she’s in heat, she becomes extra cranky. And for whatever reason, I mean, Zenny’s not an innocent angel, either. Zenny likes to instigate things. And then it… then she’s sad when it doesn’t, like work out very well for her because people don’t like to put up with it. But um, and by people, I mean dogs. Yeah, Ophelia, for whatever reason, was not happy. So Zenny has a little puncture mark on the top of her head. So the vets were able to help me patch it up. It was really tiny, nothing major, but that held me up for probably another 20 minutes. And then once we got going, it was kind of another putz putz putz, oh, this, that. I had Belle and Aurora in lead, but Belle has been leading the whole way so far, and I think she’s kind of hitting a little bit of a mental wall. So she was kind of like, all over the place. So I put Rey up there and I had to pee because I decided I didn’t want to wet my pants going down the Happy River Steps. And so and then this, and then somebody got tangled, and you know, so it’s like a bunch of stops, we’re finally kind of moving now. Of course, I have to pee again. But ya know, I had my chance. I mean, I did pee, but like, I’m guessing it’s just nerves. As a trans guy, who has not had bottom surgery — and I’m not really interested in it either — but unfortunately, that means I am, you know, stuck with the traditionally female gendered method of going to the bathroom, which is honestly a big pain in the ass when you’re a musher, because yeah, layers and trying to hold a team of dogs and… It’s a pain. So I shouldn’t talk about this anymore. It’s just making me have to go to the bathroom more. So we should talk about the mountains. Right now we’re mushing on what looks like a little, maybe like a little slough. And there’s borders of spruce trees all around us. And there’s some hills that are nearby that are pretty significant hills, like I would say probably bigger than anything we have in Fairbanks. And I mean, even just from the level I’m at, I’m… They’re, I’m sure, way above sea level. Oh, I should see what our elevation is. But those trees, those hills have nice, nice trees on them like more deciduous trees. And I’m sure it’s just gorgeous here in the fall too. I think I had said that there are some there were some cottonwoods at the beginning of this route, which was kind of cool. Right now our elevation. Looks like we’ve done a little bit of a climb already. So our elevation is 1,164 feet. And I’m sure we will… nope, 1,165. So it’ll be interesting to see what, how that changes on the Steps. It’s cool because this GPS gives me like a little track so you can kind see the elevation route as we’ve gone. Not very… some little hills, but nothing as, so far nothing as steep as like the Copper Basin or yeah I guess steep is the right word. Part, there’s one way you on the Copper Basin is really steep, and one way you go on the Copper Basin, it’s the same summit but it just takes a really long time to gain the elevation, so it’s kind of like obviously not as steep, but it takes a long time to get up to the top, so. SCS. I don’t know what there’s trail marker that says SCS, but I don’t know what that means. Could be a club, so in theory there used to be a sign out here on the trail — I think it’s right before the steps — that said watch your ass, and I really wish that sign but I… The… My understanding is that that sign is gone. I could be wrong. Maybe somebody put it back or made a new one but if it’s not here, I wish it was here so that I would know when to watch my ass. I was thinking maybe SCS stood for something like that but I can’t think of what it would be. Now we’re popping onto kind of a new causeway, maybe like an open field. Yeah, we’re kind of in the base of those rolling hills and right behind that is just peak after peak. So we are going through a Big Valley, I guess. I, I guess this is, I would assume this is Rainy Pass, like all of this and then the, the lodge that we’re going to is Rainy Pass Lodge, but I’m not 100% sure if that’s the case. I wonder if it’s often rainy here. I wonder how accessible this is in the summer, because it’s really cool. But I could also see it being pretty limited, because I, we’re definitely crossing a lot of water and a lot of Alaska has a lot of bogs and marshes or… what they called… not swamps, but we call them swamps sometimes. Anyw

    Episode 4: The Steps
  5. Episode 5

    Episode 5: The Zone

    Will and the team encounter two new notorious Iditarod obstacles: the Dalzell Gorge and the Farewell Burn. (Transcript coming soon.) [show_more more="View Transcript" less="Hide Transcript"] Onward and Other Directions Episode 4: The Steps Hi, everybody. Will here. Thanks for tuning in again for Onward and Other Directions, a podcast where my team of Alaskan huskies and I bring you along for our very first Iditarod in recordings I made along the trail. This is episode four. The team and I have started the race. We traveled over rivers for 80 miles, camping once along the way for four hours. We started our climb into the Alaska range, which is the mountain range that Denali, the tallest peak in North America, is part of and rested at Finger Lake, one of the checkpoints along the route. While the dogs rested, I did chores and vet care and chatted to some fellow mushers. This recording takes place on the run right after we leave Finger Lake. It's one of my favorite pieces of audio from the entire race. We're heading towards the checkpoint of Rainy Pass on a beautiful sunny afternoon. This run contains the infamous Happy River Steps, a series of three sharp drops, which have gained acclaim over the years for many crashes and wipeouts. The Steps were one of the two biggest obstacles on the trail that I've been thinking about for years, hoping I would be able to drive through them successfully. As I left the finger Lake checkpoint, I knew my moment of truth with this pretty iconic part of Iditarod lore was approaching fast. This recording starts shortly after the beginning of the run. All right. Am I recording? It's hard to see. Oh, yep, looks like I am. So we're on the run to Rainy Pass, which has the infamous Happy River Steps on it somewhere. I keep thinking the next thing is going to be it and then it's not, or I don't think it is anyway. I'm pretty sure not. Anyway, every single time I'm like maybe this is it, which is how I'm feeling right now. Ope, there's a little whoop-dee-doo. See if we can hang on there. This could be it. I just carved a new path. It's a pretty snowy year. So I -- in theory, I don't think it'll be that bad, except there's probably going to be a big old trench carved out of it. But um, yeah, I don't really know. I know the steps are these three big drops. That's all I really know about it. Uh. And it does look like we're heading towards downhill. We kind of climbed for a while. We're in this really beautiful trail that crosses the Alaska range. It's so cool. It feels like we're out like in Colorado or something like these really big old cottonwoods. And not pine trees, but spruce trees that are like pretty old and tall, not, not the little scraggly friends. Um. And, yeah, the mountains are really just like right in your face and phenomenal, beautiful. So this is really cool to see. This is the first part of the trail so far that I have not been on, which is really refreshing. That's something I've discovered this year a lot is that I get really uplifted when I'm getting to go on a new trail. I've mushed on a lot of different trails in Alaska. And including the first like 120 miles of the Iditarod trail because of a race that used to go up there to the last checkpoint I was just at, Finger Lake. And so all of that trail I'd been on before and you know, for whatever reason, that's not as... just doesn't... it's not as exciting. And it's also kind of like... Wow, the mountains are just so cool. I mean it, the mountains look like the Rockies, too. Like Alaska and mountains are definitely different than the Rockies, which I think feel kind of... I'm not sure if this is geologically correct, but I think it seems like they're older and more like rocky as you might suspect. And this part of the Alaska range that we're in looks like that, where you're seeing like the blue, gray exposed rock kind of coming out underneath the snow or between the snow and the... The edges of them are more worn or something. Anyway, just feels like we're in an older part of the, of the landscape and yeah, and huge trees and these really beautiful tucked away little valleys and brooks and rivers. This is just so cool. I am in hog heaven right now. This is so cool. I am like a kid in a candy store. My mouth is just like agape when I'm not talking to you. So yeah, being on this new trail has been awesome. Being on the old trail, on trails I've been on before I keep looking for landmarks that I know are there, and so I know to expect them, but I don't know exactly when to expect them. And it ends up being really, like laborious. And so like I know the Finger Lake checkpoint, I know that it's on a lake and I just keep thinking every corner we come around is going to be on this lake. And it's not. That's kind of what I'm doing here. Like expecting the steps any minute. But also, it's just I'm surrounded by the most gorgeous scenery, and I have never been here before. So it's so cool. I'm yeah, I just feel transported to a totally magical world. It's another beautiful day, which is nice, but it is also hot and sunny. We... So I wanted to leave the checkpoint of Finger Lake at noon. And we ended up leaving a little after one because... And actually I was right on course to leave right at one, but Miss Ophelia decided to be a jerk and go after poor Zenny. Ophelia is in heat, and she's already kind of a crank. So yeah, when she's in heat, she becomes extra cranky. And for whatever reason, I mean, Zenny's not an innocent angel, either. Zenny likes to instigate things. And then it... then she's sad when it doesn't, like work out very well for her because people don't like to put up with it. But um, and by people, I mean dogs. Yeah, Ophelia, for whatever reason, was not happy. So Zenny has a little puncture mark on the top of her head. So the vets were able to help me patch it up. It was really tiny, nothing major, but that held me up for probably another 20 minutes. And then once we got going, it was kind of another putz putz putz, oh, this, that. I had Belle and Aurora in lead, but Belle has been leading the whole way so far, and I think she's kind of hitting a little bit of a mental wall. So she was kind of like, all over the place. So I put Rey up there and I had to pee because I decided I didn't want to wet my pants going down the Happy River Steps. And so and then this, and then somebody got tangled, and you know, so it's like a bunch of stops, we're finally kind of moving now. Of course, I have to pee again. But ya know, I had my chance. I mean, I did pee, but like, I'm guessing it's just nerves. As a trans guy, who has not had bottom surgery -- and I'm not really interested in it either -- but unfortunately, that means I am, you know, stuck with the traditionally female gendered method of going to the bathroom, which is honestly a big pain in the ass when you're a musher, because yeah, layers and trying to hold a team of dogs and... It's a pain. So I shouldn't talk about this anymore. It's just making me have to go to the bathroom more. So we should talk about the mountains. Right now we're mushing on what looks like a little, maybe like a little slough. And there's borders of spruce trees all around us. And there's some hills that are nearby that are pretty significant hills, like I would say probably bigger than anything we have in Fairbanks. And I mean, even just from the level I'm at, I'm... They're, I'm sure, way above sea level. Oh, I should see what our elevation is. But those trees, those hills have nice, nice trees on them like more deciduous trees. And I'm sure it's just gorgeous here in the fall too. I think I had said that there are some there were some cottonwoods at the beginning of this route, which was kind of cool. Right now our elevation. Looks like we've done a little bit of a climb already. So our elevation is 1,164 feet. And I'm sure we will... nope, 1,165. So it'll be interesting to see what, how that changes on the Steps. It's cool because this GPS gives me like a little track so you can kind see the elevation route as we've gone. Not very... some little hills, but nothing as, so far nothing as steep as like the Copper Basin or yeah I guess steep is the right word. Part, there's one way you on the Copper Basin is really steep, and one way you go on the Copper Basin, it's the same summit but it just takes a really long time to gain the elevation, so it's kind of like obviously not as steep, but it takes a long time to get up to the top, so. SCS. I don't know what there's trail marker that says SCS, but I don't know what that means. Could be a club, so in theory there used to be a sign out here on the trail -- I think it's right before the steps -- that said watch your ass, and I really wish that sign but I... The... My understanding is that that sign is gone. I could be wrong. Maybe somebody put it back or made a new one but if it's not here, I wish it was here so that I would know when to watch my ass. I was thinking maybe SCS stood for something like that but I can't think of what it would be. Now we're popping onto kind of a new causeway, maybe like an open field. Yeah, we're kind of in the base of those rolling hills and right behind that is just peak after peak. So we are going through a Big Valley, I guess. I, I guess this is, I would assume this is Rainy Pass, like all of this and then the, the lodge that we're going to is Rainy Pass Lodge, but I'm not 100% sure if that's the case. I wonder if it's often rainy here. I wonder how accessible this is in the summer, because it's really cool. But I could also see it being pretty limited, because I, we're definitely crossing a lot of water and a lot of Alaska has a lot of bogs and marshes or... what they called... not swamps, but we call them swamps sometimes. Anyway, sloughs maybe, but yeah, so it, it can be really difficult to cross those areas in the summer. So behind

    Episode 5: The Zone
5
out of 5
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A Podcast About Sled Dogs, Mental Health, and Finding Your Way Home