Over the last few days, Ed and I volunteered for the Idaho Sled Dog Challenge in Central Idaho. Seventeen teams of dogs and mushers came through our checkpoint. Some sprinted right through; others stayed a while to rest their dogs and contemplate the next steps of the race. 

There were three categories of racers — those traveling 300 (!) miles; those going 100 miles, and a junior division. The racers in the longest division were competing to qualify for the Alaska Iditarod. 

Who knew there was an entire culture that revolves around dogs, mushers, raw meat, sleds, and active volunteers? The mushers were a mix of men and women, ranging from a 14-year-old girl to middle-aged men. Most of the volunteers at our checkpoint were locals and friends of the ‘Weiser River Trail’. This was the mountain bike trail that we enjoyed in the fall. (After we made a donation to the “Friends”, we received their newsletter which described the need for volunteers at the Wye Campground sled dog checkpoint. It sounded like a scene, so we signed up!)

Ed volunteered to be the checkpoint photographer. He enjoyed viewing the dog sled teams from many angles and providing photos of the local volunteers. Hopefully, the “Friends” can use these photos to recruit more volunteers for next year.

My volunteer role was as a “dog handler.” I waited near the timing line with a group of fellow dog handlers. As the mushers entered the campground, handlers took hold of the ropes between the dogs and guided the sled to a numbered waiting area–think of it as a parking space.

Often there were more than four teams resting at our checkpoint. Each musher and dog team needed their own space so the dogs could rest and recover for the next part of the race.

Being a dog handler was not as challenging as I expected. Prior to doing the job, I’d read the following disclaimer on the volunteer website:

Dog Handler – Assists in sending/receiving teams off the line, lead teams or physically park teams as needed, watch over teams resting and keep all spectators out of the parking area. NOTE OF CAUTION: Being a dog handler is challenging. You must be physically able to run a short distance beside a team while helping to hold them back, and there is a possibility that you could fall.

On our days of “duty”, the snow was packed, so no handlers fell. I positioned myself near the back of the line so all I had to do was run with the dogs and follow the lead handler, who was experienced with this job and knew exactly what to do. It was fun to be near the dogs. They seemed very well trained and up for the task at hand. The more experienced dogs knew to rest while at our stop. The musher put out hay for them to lie on, and they snacked on raw meat, kibble and drank water.

The more junior dogs were jumping up and down and singing a soprano-like howl, instead of resting. At times, there was quite the symphony of howls.

A vet made the rounds and checked all the dogs at the stop. She had a stethoscope for their hearts and checked their paws for irritation.

Most dogs were eager to go on when the musher felt the time was right. The teams could start with as many as 12 dogs; 6 dogs was the minimum at the finish line.

For the Idaho Sled Dog Challenge, of the six teams competing in the 300-mile race, only two continued past the 100-mile mark. It was quite warm for the dogs, and some mushers decided not to continue. When the temperature is above freezing and the snow is soft, the dogs’ paws sink into the snow and running becomes very tiring. 

The teams planned to camp at night at some of the other checkpoints. (Brrr.) On Wednesday, snow was falling, but it was in the low 30s, and it felt like rain once it hit our parkas.

On Thursday, the sun was shining — ideal conditions for the spectators and volunteers, but apparently too warm for the pooches. The fog came in around 5 pm and blanketed the rest area with an eerie glow. We opted to leave before the last mushers arrived at 9 pm. (No working under headlamps for us!)

A musher has to be very self-sufficient. They’re completely responsible for the welfare of the dogs. No volunteer could help put out the hay–or help clean it up.  This was the job of the musher or part of his or her support team who were waiting at the stop. If a dog was unable to continue, a member of the support team would lead it to one of the specially-rigged doggie trailers. These trailers provided luxury accommodations for the dogs while they were not on the trail. 

As for luxury accommodations, Ed and I stayed at the Hartland Inn B&B in New Meadows. We were the only residents at the B&B, so the host cooked us custom breakfasts and we were able to connect to their wifi to complete our Stanford work. The Hartland Inn’s main building dates from 1911 and was filled with antiques. The Inn also offers motel rooms around the main building, and these were more occupied by snowmobilers and other guests.

It was fun to be a part of a totally different scene. Are we hooked?  Not really. It looks pretty cold and lonely out there on the sleds in the Idaho Sled Dog Challenge. I don’t think we’ll be turning in our cross country skis for dog sleds any time soon. Besides, Sydney (our pooch) might get cold out there!