Dogsled teams serious about having a good time
FARMINGTON – Crouched in a bed of straw behind a lattice of rusting metal, Vinny and Trooper, Forrest and Zeus, stare with sky blue eyes. While the temperature outside is at the freezing point, inside the little catacombs mounted to the back of a pickup truck, the dogs look warm.
Nearby, another group of dogs – white and gray mongrels with faces like wolves – are tied off on rails mounted to a different pickup. Two big huskies, Callie and Chance, stand on their hind legs, pawing at the visitors; meeting and greeting Fayette County residents who braved the cold to watch the animals compete.
Less than an hour later, the docile animals that embody the beauty and body of a sport that is little-known in southwestern Pennsylvania, transformed from cuddly puffballs to sleek athletes as they competed in a two-mile dogsled race at Nemacolin Woodlands Resort & Spa in Farmington.
This year marked the second race held at Nemacolin, but it was the first in which the resort’s own team, led by a pack of Alaskan mutts, participated, according to resort spokeswoman Kay Magahan.
The race, held in late January, was part of the resort’s Winterfest, which featured the dogsled race and winter golf, among other attractions such as skiing and a wintertime adventure race.
As Laura Briggs and her husband, Ted, of New Jersey pulled into the staging area for the race, one of their dogs, a husky named Guinness, escaped from their van and darted across the practice greens at the Links golf course.
After about 15 minutes of chasing and worrying, Ted Briggs was able to corner Guinness who was trying to get into Falling Rock, one of the hotels at the sprawling resort.
“Never try to catch a husky,” Ted Briggs said after the ordeal.
Nearby, some of their other dogs, Pandora and Solei, both purebred Siberian huskies, scratched at packed snow.
According to Laura Briggs, the couple got all of the dogs she races from rescue shelters. Laura Briggs, who works as a molecular scientist in Tabernacle, N.J., said after she got her first husky from a shelter, she began to do agility training with the pup and soon got into obedience and agility competitions. Eventually, her love of huskies led her to begin dabbling in dog sledding, something she now competes in nearly every weekend.
“It is like when you get addicted to golf or addicted to fishing,” Laura Briggs said, her hands buried in the thick fur around Guinness’s neck. “It is my passion.”
Sledding enthusiasts said most racers breed their own dogs and work to eliminate health problems from their teams such as weak hips or bad temperament.
Training and methods used by the dog sledders are as varied as the drivers themselves ranging from groups whose dogs live in their homes to others who have kennels in their back yard.
The majority of competitors traveled from New Jersey, New York and Maryland for the race, with the dogs in tow and their sleds mounted on the roofs of their vehicles.
According to another dog sledder, Ann Hardy of New Jersey, the sled teams still train without snow, using a small cart called a “wheel gig” to pull the driver, or musher.
Hardy said temperatures must be around freezing to participate in a race because the dogs are genetically wired to perform in the cold and do not fare well in warmer weather.
Hardy said most events are equal in distance to the number of dogs in a given team. For example, a four-dog sled team normally will compete in a four-mile race.
Patty Brice, who attended the race with Hardy, said racing dog sleds has changed her life.
“I love doing it. They are my family,” the retired New Jersey schoolteacher said, her eyes welling with tears. “They turn my hair gray and can drive you crazy, but you become attached. I love it.”
The trucks that haul the teams are a wonder alone, many equipped with gadgets and gizmos more befitting a James Bond film than a sled dog race.
One truck, with a dozen dog rooms mounted on the bed, was outfitted with overhead lights, a water and food center, rakes and pooper-scoopers mounted to the cab as well as metal bars that were assembled on the sides of the vehicle to create a dog run for the animals.
The rigs look more like mobile pet motels than the Ford or Chevrolet pickups they once were. But anyone who was confused about what animals might be inside the cages needed to look no further than the bumper stickers on many of the trucks.
Stickers proclaimed: “I love my Siberian husky” and “My dog is smarter than your honor student” and “Happiness is owning an Alaskan malamute.”
And looking at the rigs alone, spectators could gain an appreciation for the costs associated with the sport.
According to dog sled racer Kathy Murariak of New Jersey, most competitions do award a small purse for first place as well as supplies of dog food and other staples for second and third that help offset travel and preparation costs.
Murariak said while some mushers, like Laura Briggs, adopt their racing dogs for a minimal fee, teams can pay several thousand dollars for a lead dog and thousands more for sleds and other gear necessary for dog sled racing.
But cost aside, all of the mushers, including Jaclyn Rice, said they are involved because they love their animals and the sport.
Rice, 17, of New York said she practically was born in a dog sled.
“I ran my first race when I was 3 years old,” Rice said as she prepared some rigging for her father’s team. “I have always been in the sport.”
She said while she plans to attend college next year and pursue a career practicing law, she noted she never will lose the love for the sport she claims she was born to do.
“I want to get established but I will come back and race again. I will get back to it. It is a part of me.”