Reindeer Backpacking with Mom

Alright Mom, we could drive to Kennicott and explore around there. We could go backpack around the Tangle Lakes area. We could just relax around the kennel. (Me knowing this isn’t actually an option. Hanging at home inevitably turns into projects for which guests are unknowingly “volunteered.”) Or we could take the reindeer and hike the Chena Dome Loop.

All of my family members have experienced the old “come visit Alaska and get roped into work” trick, so recently, I’ve been trying to set aside time for actual vacation-esque activities. And yes, one could argue that handling for the Yukon Quest at -40F is an exciting vacation activity, so maybe I should clarify a bit more: less Type 3 fun, more Type 2 or perhaps even Type 1.

Let’s hike the Chena Dome Loop! Mom said enthusiastically.

Excellent! The 29-mile Chena Dome Loop had been on my list, and I’ve also been scheming about how to offer expeditions with the reindeer. Here was the perfect opportunity to test it out with a very willing guinea pig: my mother.

After picking Mom up from the airport, we ate lunch, then made all the essential stops to grab food and supplies for our three day, two night backpacking trip. The weather forecast looked promising and barring hordes of mosquitos or unwelcome predators, conditions looked perfect. We decided on the crew- Pilot, Sailor, Cartel, Sasha, and the newest addition to the kennel, little puppy Dune. That evening, we piled all our gear, weighing each item and strategically arranging them for each pack the deer would carry. I’ve been told the deer can each carry 40 pounds, but also, there’s not really a robust deer packing community. Google says that the Tsaatan people of Mongolia ride their reindeer and Tucker gave me this packing book, so that combined with the occasional overnight trip with the reindeer and our previous day hikes made me feel moderately confident in our abilities. Ultimately, we settled on keeping the deer’s packs 30 pounds or less. I’m sure a trail-hardened deer could pack more, but we want this first multi-day to be a fun experience for everyone.

The Chena Dome Loop is actually a horseshoe shape rather than a loop. Derek helped with the shuttle, staging a car at the terminus, then dropping our clown crew off at the Upper Trailhead. I won’t lie, that first day was a little rough. The Chena Dome Trail does not believe in switchbacks. And while hiking straight up a mountain is challenging, what really got us was the heat. Even though the deer are in their summer coats, they prefer to sleep in the shade through the heat of the day, and hiking in the blazing sun directly up a hillside is not where they excel. Over the steepest sections of trail, we were stopping regularly and averaging about one mile per hour. That day, we traveled about 7.5 miles. My skewed mushing brain kept thinking a dog team would cover that distance in like 45 minutes. I actually struggled this winter with re-calibrating my brain while skiing too. Dogs are just amazing. I will always be slower.

At camp, we filtered water from the small puddles, picketed the deer out in a patch of tasty forage, and settled in for what I hoped would be a restful night. I should have known better. Dune took a nap from 7:00 - 9:00 PM, then like a husky on a race, she bounced back up ready to tackle the next leg of the journey. No Dune, we now sleep for 10 hours. I zipped her out of the tent and she romped around camp until about 3:00 AM when she finally decided it was time for another nap and insisted on being back in the tent. The night continued like that. Unzip, zip, unzip, zip, unzip, zip. The next million dollar idea is a silent tent zipper. I thought it would be the deer who would keep me awake, but they settled down and relaxed tranquilly all night long.

For much of the next day, we lived in the clouds. The deer loved the cooler temperatures and motored right along all day. While I enjoyed the cooler temperatures, I would have appreciated a bit more visibility. We were crossing the actual Chena Dome that day and even though the trail just follows the ridgeline, we did manage to lose it for a bit. The trail is marked by cairns, and when the trail is enveloped in a cloud, it would be nice to have twice as many cairns as there are currently. We took a slight deviation at the top of the Dome which resulted in us stumbling around through the rocks for awhile. When we finally found the trail again, Mom would proceed slowly, always checking that she could see the previous cairn over her shoulder. I’d hike faster in what seemed like the most likely direction, always making sure I could see Mom over my shoulder, until I could spot the next cairn, then holler back and say- I see it! For the most part, the cairns were spaced the length of two-people’s eyesight, if that makes sense.

Eventually, we descended below the clouds, and that evening, we stopped for camp at a shelter cabin. Mom opted to sleep in the cabin to hopefully get a better night sleep. I set the tent up on the porch, so I could keep an eye on the deer. Dune once again came alive at night, so while it was less than the first night, there was still constant unzip and zip action.

With the next day forecast to be sunny, we woke up early to beat the heat. Yes, our heat is only 75-80F, but for whatever reason, it feels like 100F! The final day was glorious. Lots of vertical climbing and descending. Big vistas. Pilot was a rockstar. Sailor was a plodder and made sure to never miss a mushroom on the side of the trail. Dune was a trooper- working hard then napping even harder during our breaks. Overall, the adventure was a SUCCESS. Reindeer backpacking trips are definitely on the horizon for Chena Outdoor Collective, and like my 1000-mile races, I feel so fortunate that my mom was there for the adventure!

Aviation

I’ve had several incredible mentors in my life. From sports to schooling to accounting to business to dog mushing, there have been people who have helped me navigate each respective field and helping hands to raise me to the next level. They shared knowledge that took them years to compile, and for that I will be forever grateful. And what’s more, the knowledge was shared with no strings attached; there was no sense of possessiveness or underlying motive. When the time would come for me to pivot in a new direction, I was met with even more support, helping me find the next step even when that meant leaving. That has been one of my biggest takeaways over the last decade and something I strive to emulate- what makes a good leader and mentor. It’s a person who teaches and develops, yet when the time comes, they support the change and transition. I’m sure there was an initial frustration when after a few years of training, I approached Melody at the accounting firm and said, “Thanks for training me all these years, I want to go race sled dogs.” To which Melody’s response was for her accounting firm to provide a yearly sponsorship for many years. Or Aliy and Allen when I said, “thanks for the amazing Iditarod experience, I’d like to start my own kennel and directly compete against you.” They responded with allowing me to breed a few litters of puppies and teaching me to build a faster sled. This blog post is taking a rather philosophical turn, and I’m struggling to bring it back around, because while the discussion of what makes a good mentor/leader is important, what I really set out to write about is one of my most recent mentors- Derek.

The last couple years, I’ve been putting more effort into learning to fly. In 2012, I got my private pilot’s license, but I didn’t really utilize it until the last couple years. And just because I have my license, it doesn’t mean I know how to fly. It’s like getting six dogs and mushing a 5-mile loop then wondering, ok now how do I do the Iditarod? There are a million steps between the two, and once again, a mentor can make all the difference.

My goal is to become competent at remote flying, meaning landing and taking off on short strips, assessing weather, navigating through remote Alaska, judging length and suitability of potential landing strips, maintaining a plane in cold temperatures, etc. There’s not exactly a How to Be a Bush Pilot Guide, except that lucky me, I married one.

Derek and I met one afternoon when I was on a walk with Kaz’s son Sam and Ray Crowe. I later learned we tactfully strolled through Derek’s yard as he was prepping his plane for a flight.

Wow, that’s cool.

Would you like to go for a flight?

Yeah! That’d be awesome!

Where do you want to go?

How about the Yukon Quest trail and Eagle Summit?

And off we went. It wasn’t until dinner was suggested afterward that I realized, ah, this was a date! Since then, I’ve been lucky enough to accompany Derek on spectacular trips in the backcountry. And while the trips were amazing, it wasn’t until I started flying that I truly realized what a wealth of knowledge Derek possessed.

Now I jump at any chance to have him fly along, whether he’s sitting in my backseat or I’m trailing behind him in his plane. I pepper him with questions, and he points out specific landmarks.

Memorize that rock formation. That’s your cue to turn up this drainage for the low pass between these watersheds. And see that old cabin floor, that’s your next indication that you’re headed down the correct drainage. Stay right. That swath of braided riverbed is always overflowed, and once you see that you know you’re headed in the correct direction. If you go left it’ll dead end, and if the ceiling is low, it would be really hard to turn around in something so narrow.

camping last fall at one of the first Trickier-for-me strips

I’m pretty sure this man doesn’t need a GPS. Before my family panics reading this, I’m not flying in low ceilings or risky conditions, but this knowledge is invaluable anyway. Derek’s brain also holds wisdom from decades-worth of exploring as both a private pilot and a smokejumper. He knows of several strips that function as stepping stones as I ever so slowly start to improve. He knows the weather stations to follow and how to plan trips. I couldn’t ask for a better mentor.

Now being married to your mentor also brings its own challenges. Picture driving with your significant other- do you ever bicker about directions or where to park? Well, just because we’re talking over the radio doesn’t mean that doesn’t happen.

Why are you going that way? Go north around that peak.

But the south side sets you up for the next pass better. Don’t you think the south side of the peak would be faster?

No, that’s why I said go on the north side. Turn left. LEFT!

Camping at chickenstock

Or maybe your significant other is looking for something in the fridge. You know exactly where it is and are describing it, but your significant other insists it’s not there or they can’t see it.

Look down. See those rocks? The white rocks? That’s the edge of the strip.

I see lots of rocks.

Look down. See right there. The rocks. Do you see the rocks. They’re in a line.

I see so many rocks.

Ok do another pass. There! Right there! See the rocks?!

WHICH ROCKS??

I still have yet to land at the strip we were circling during this conversation.

Derek’s knowledge can also act as crutch when flying, so he regularly encourages me to fly places without him and test my own knowledge and assessment abilities. Earlier this summer, a friend Alyssa and my flying buddy Jess Panko (and Smoky’s sponsor!) flew to the Coal Creek airstrip and hiked down to Slaven’s Roadhouse. The conditions were PERFECT until we arrived at the Yukon River, where squalls were numerous. After dodging a couple squalls, we managed to land at Coal Creek. It didn’t rain again the entire time we were there. Being a Vet Stop on the Yukon Quest, Slaven’s Roadhouse is the place of many memories although all are in winter. It was pretty cool to add some summer experiences to the Slaven’s memory bank. Only one other time had I explored the gold dredge: several years ago with Deb Davis (Tobin’s sponsor!). Climbing around the gold dredge and checking out all the old tools takes you back in time to early gold mining days. I can’t imagine shipping all those parts up the Yukon then building the dredge and moving it up little Coal Creek.

Squalls over coal creek

Me, Alyssa, and Jess in front of the coal creek gold dredge

Cartel checking out Slavens Roadhouse

Ultimately, I’m beyond excited about this new opportunity, and I feel lucky to have one of the best mentors. Cartel doesn’t seem to mind traveling by plane either. And sorry this post wasn’t more about dogs.