No big deal. Just another day in the Alaskan Arctic. We clear the ice and crest a short, steep hill, running behind the sleds to help our dogs. Our trail is an old pre-Russian trading route on the treeless coastal plain once used by local Eskimos and the Athapaskan Indians. The rolling tundra is crusty and fast.
Speed is a problem.
The dogs are eager and amazingly strong. A moment of inattention and I could fall off the sled. The dogs won t stop running. The dogs take a sharp right-hand turn. I stomp on the metal brake bar, digging the two metal projections deep into the snow.