A couple more miles downstream, when we turned off the Susitna and onto the Tyone River, I replaced Gila with Stump. This gave me Stump back in lead with his sister Mugs, but forced me to put Gila back in swing next to Wilson. “Luckily,” they were both too sick to feel like attempting a breeding. It was nice to be back in the shadows of trees and the team actually picked up the pace for a while after the leader change and a snack, which everyone ate. That’s a better sign. Only a little more than 50 miles to go. The river miles went by pretty slowly and I lost all track of time. The sunset seemed to last forever. Our usual gain in speed with dark and cold didn’t really materialize tonight; our pace stayed right where it was. Now they were sick, tired, and bored. I set up my iPod as well as my headlamp. Anything to brighten my mood. As we got to the north end of the lakes with 24 miles to go, I hit the low point of my race. Neither Phish nor Waylon were pulling me out of this funk. My team was sick. The race was nearly over, but I still had 24 miles of boring lake travel to finish. My mind ran way too fast and way too negative. I had spent too much money on this whole trip and was feeling guilty for that, and only had the long and expensive drive back to New Hampshire to look forward to. I was missing my Sue and realizing I’d be finishing my second race in a row without her at the finish line. Despite having almost finished the race and thereby achieving our season’s goals, I was depressed and way over-tired. Then Ambler started neck-lining. I stopped and made room for him to ride in the sled. He hadn’t drank much today at our stops and was in the early stages of dehydration. This really didn’t help brighten my spirits much. But the team was right back on their feet as I called “Ready???,” and that definitely brought a smile to my chapped lips. Trotting along on the flat lake, the team didn’t seem to notice the new weight in the sled, but after being out on the open lake for a few miles, I called to Stump and his teammates, “Whoooaa buddy, take a break.” He happily complied and I set both snowhooks.

As the moon rose over the horizon, I put Ambler back up into his spot on the gangline next to Hood, fired up my cooker, and made a meal for the team less than 15 miles from the finish. I can’t explain my reasoning for this other than I had nothing to race for at this point and I guess I just wasn’t ready for it all to be over. I used up the last of my cooker fuel and dogfood. They ate like champs, even Ambler. Since I had no agenda for the finish line at this point, and I had told John before I left Maclaren that I might break this run into three parts, I felt no worries about this break. I guess it doesn’t look so good in the standings, but that wasn’t what I was here for anyway. I sat contentedly on the sled watching the team sleep in the moonlight until I had cleared my head. I crawled up through the team giving some rubs and scratches and thank-you's. The dogs have such an amazing ability to wipe away stress and negativity. Their limitless love and dedication are unbelievably humbling.

Shortly after we got restarted, a bit past 2am Thursday, we crossed the little portage onto Lake Louise. I was even closer to the finish than I had thought. Oh well, “Not far now boys.” “Let’s go home!” They perked up then, and the team actually took off loping down the lake. Ambler couldn’t keep the faster pace and I put him back into the sled for the rest of the ride to the finish at Wolverine Lodge where Moe, Bob, and the bartender/checker were waiting on the lake shore. I had half expected to come back to an empty parking lot and had planned to check my watch so I could tell them when I got in. They were there to do it for me though and at 3:32am, all 12 dogs and I finished our longest race ever. “We did it!!” I was glad for the help caring for the team from Moe and Bob and the dogs were very happy to crawl up into their boxes after a snack and lots of praise. I had a few frozen tears on my cheeks and probably some frozen beer in my beard as I walked up to the lodge after we finished stowing the dogs and gear in the truck.

Inside the mostly quiet lodge, I showered, and then called Sue at work as it was already time for that back east, four hours of time zones away. Talking with her made me pretty emotional again, as I wished she was here to share in our accomplishment. Back at the bar, I powered through three cheeseburgers and a few beers, not to mention the bottle of champagne they’d saved for the red lantern “winner.” I did feel as if I had something to celebrate. Moe, Bob, and the bartender listened to some trail tales until I finally felt the overwhelming urge to go get some sleep. After a short three hour nap, it was time to get back up to drop the dogs and then share in the race finish breakfast. As all the finishers, organizers, and handlers sat around the table having a delicious moose steak and egg breakfast, we discussed the race, rules, and suggestions for next year. Everyone seemed to have enjoyed to race and really liked the challenge of packing for 250 miles. I surely felt more prepared for the Quest and its long hauls than before running this race. The final standings had Dan in first, finishing in just under 52 hours. Molly was second after passing Zoya on the last leg. Becca edged Karen out for fourth place by just 8 minutes. We finished 6th and came in 64½ hours after starting. I accepted with pride a “Certificate of Completion” that John handed out. It reads as follows:

“This is to certify that you have completed a 305 mile dogsled race. The Taiga Spring Break 300 requires that you travel a distance of 250 miles without a re-supply point, and distances of 111 miles between checkpoints. You are one of an elite group of mushers; the first teams in history to complete the trip from Lake Louise to the Upper Maclaren River. Congratulations! Mike Ellis, your time was 64 hours 32 minutes. You are now competent to compete and complete any dogsled race in the great State of Alaska or the world.”

I don’t have it framed yet, but I’m going to, along with a few of the pictures from the trip.
After paying the bill for the week, packing the truck, saying our goodbyes to lots of new friends who I hope to meet again, we headed off for the 10+ hour ride back east and south to Annie Lake Road. I actually drove almost the whole way, until just east of Haines Junction, when I started getting too tired and turned the wheel over to Moe for the last hour or two of driving. It was after midnight, but when Moe got us “home,” Jere was still up and had caribou steak dinner ready by the time I’d dropped and watered the dogs. I slept like a rock once I finally got horizontal, after telling a bunch of stories over dinner.

 

Bob and I spent the rest of the weekend at Moe and Jere’s enjoying their hospitality, being tourists in Whitehorse, having snowball fights with Finn, dragging Maible around the snowy yard on her new dogsled, nursing a couple of my still sick dogs back to health, and generally enjoying being in the northland. The dogs and I all desperately needed a few days of rest and recuperation before the long drive home. Sunday morning was spent at William Kleedehn’s dining room over coffee talking about the Quest. He has run it many times, finishing as high as second place, and is consistently a competitor in the top five. He was very gracious and free with a wealth of information and advice. I wrote as many notes as I could after our conversation that morning. Yukon Quest preparation is really what this trip was all about. There is no substitute for experience, but learning from others experiences is sometimes the best you can do. I truly gained untold confidence on this trip from both my race and the time I spent listening to veterans I had the chance to meet. I finally feel honestly qualified to run the “World’s Toughest Sleddog Race” next winter. Yukon Quest, here we come!
 

Monday morning, two weeks from when we had first left New Hampshire, Bob and I said a grateful goodbye to Finn, Maible, Moe, and Jere and headed down the Alaska Highway. “Only 3,800 miles to go buddy, Ready?” We did soak in Liard Hot Springs this time by and greatly enjoyed it. We spent the night in Fort Nelson before making another 10 hour drive to Karen and Mark Ramstead’s in Perryvale, Alberta. She had invited us while we were still in Alaska and the offer to visit them at their kennel, and have some dinner and a bed, was way too good to pass up. We really enjoyed their hospitality. After 24 more hours of driving, we were pulling in to Anna and J.R. Anderson’s home in northern Minnesota. They have a kennel of 60+ dogs and sponsor us through their business, Husky Creek Sleds. All of my racing the last few years since we’ve been doing distance has been on the runners of a Husky Creek. Aaron Peck, a Can-Am and Iditarod veteran was also passing through and spending the night here. We had some more great dogtalk and time to catch up on our respective race seasons. Friday morning we were off before first light, this time really headed for home. At the border crossing at Sault St. Marie, heading back in to Canada for the shortest route, they apparently thought our tired, bloodshot eyes were from too much drinking not too little sleep. They hauled us out of the truck, sat us in a lobby, watched us for about 45 minutes, and then finally led us back out to the truck and searched it. When they had me open the back cabinet of the dogbox, they just looked in and said, “Whoa, you’re really packed, eh?? You’re all set. Have a nice trip.” I guess the mess of gear scared them off a little. That was the only problem we had at any of our border crossings and it only delayed us about an hour. Not long after dawn on Saturday April 14th, we crossed into Vermont and stopped to fuel the truck for the last time on this trip. Then finally, we made it back into New Hampshire after nearly 10,000 miles of driving and a 300 mile dog race in less than three weeks from when we left. I was all smiles the last few miles. That first hug with Sue was heavenly. How sweet it was to let the dogs out of the truck and watch them run around the yard wearing huge smiles. After giving them a while to tear around, when I called to several of the dogs to come to their houses, they ran straight to the dogtruck and waited to be loaded up. “No boys, this trip is over. Come on over here. We’re home!”

I’ve got to say thanks-
To all our sponsors who have helped us this year, without all of you, we never would have been able to make this trip at all. To John and Zoya for not only putting on a great race, but for being so welcoming. To Kathy and Tree Farmer and the staff at Wolverine Lodge, for a real Alaskan experience. To Alan and Susie Echols at Maclaren Lodge, I can’t wait to get back to visit again. To JR and Anna Anderson for putting us up and making such great sleds. To Karen and Mark Ramstead for inspiration and friendship, and the best beer I had in Canada. To Becca Ross, for instant (and good) karma. To William Kleedehn, for taking the time to be encouraging to a rookie. To Moe, Jere, Finn and Maible for making us feel at home, so very far from home. To Rhonda, for encouraging both Bob and me to make the trip in the first place. To Bob for being such a terrific traveling companion and friend. To my wonderful Sue, for helping me chase my (our!) dreams. And lastly to my amazing dogs- Thank you, I’m honored to share the trail and my life with you.