Camping with Pups- By Simon

Training long distance sled dogs includes teaching them how to rest. On races, the dogs must know during checkpoints and other longer stops how to eat a good meal and lay down on their straw to sleep. The goal is to recuperate as much energy as possible.

We train this in form of a run-rest schedule or often called a camp-out. We bring straw and food for the dogs and take them on a run. After a certain amount of miles, we stop, feed dogs, and lay out straw for them to rest on. Usually a stop like this takes around 4 hours. After the stop is over, the next run follows. This run-rest schedule can be repeated multiple times and later in the season we can cover up to 200 miles running dogs on one single camp-out trip.

That is how adult-aged racing dogs train, but the yearling team needs to be introduced to these camp-outs too. And that's exactly what Mandy and I did 2 days ago.

It's fun to introduce young dogs to new things. It’s even more fun when 11 out of the 14 dogs you bring on the camp-out are yearlings. Besides the yearlings we had Lefty as our main leader and Wombat who got promoted to puppy team leader this year. To round this number up, we also brought 2-year old Rose along. She is an amazing cheerleader (cheer-screamer) but she still hasn't found her running rhythm on longer runs yet and has problems keeping up with the adults. Because of that, Rose will have another training year with the yearlings.

The goal of this first run-rest schedule for the yearlings is to teach them how to calm down on a longer stop and ideally, sleep for a little bit on the straw. We planned on taking out two 7-dog teams, doing a 12 mile run, having a 2h break and finishing with another 8 mile run home.

We pack the straw, a little firewood and lot's of snacks for Mandy and I on the 2 atvs, hooked up the team and - "Readdddy! lets go!" - take off. After a mile, my ATV turns off and won't start again. Enough gas in the tank? Yes! Hmmmmm, that's about it for my mechanical knowledge. We are only a mile out and the trail loops around past Ryno Kennel anyways. So, I put the gear into neutral and - "readdyyyy! let's go!" - I let the dogs pull me back. On uphills I run a little, but besides that, the dogs bring us home at mostly the normal speed of 8-9 mph.

Back at Ryno Kennel, we extend Mandy's gangline and switch my dogs over to hers and take off again with now a 14 dog team on one single ATV.

Simon, Mandy, and 14 athletes

(Later, I find out there is a little handle on the ATV that stops the flow of gas from the tank to the engine. I didn’t know that. The gas in the engine was actually out which puts my mechanical knowledge from almost 0 to a solid 0.)

Mandy helping Rose relax

The run goes really well and we pull up to our designated camping spot. We attach the front of the gangline to a tree, remove the dogs tuglines and lay out straw for them. In theory, the dogs will lay down now and we can build our fire and eat our snacks. But there is this one dog screaming all our ears off. Yes it's our cheerleader/screamer Rose. There won't be any dogs resting with Rose screaming into their ears. Before a tussle breaks out with her neighbor Cheddar, we move Rose back behind the ATV in hopes that a separate pile of straw away from the gangline will calm her down. But nope, the screaming continues. Who would have thought the oldest dog (besides the leaders) would cause the most trouble? We decide to take Rose over to our sit-down spot and Mandy cuddles her. It seems to calm her down and finally, everybody can relax a little.

By now, Lefty and Wombat are already cozy in the straw like experienced sled dogs should be. Looking down the row of yearlings, nobody is laying down but everybody is keeping to themselves or their running partner. A couple dogs are digging holes or chewing a stick. But there is no barking, growling or chewing equipment. That's good!

Being good campers

Cheddar napping

Mose and his favorite stick

We build our campfire, finally eat our snacks, and watch the dogs.

"Havarti is tangled, I can fix her."

Beesly and Tuna deciding who gets “that one stick”

"Tuna stop growling at your sister, there are 100 other sticks and not all of them belong to you.”

"Havarti, your harness is tangled again!”

“MUENSTER! Don't chew that tugline!!!!" "Holly take your paws off Spit."

"Damnit Havarti again? Seriously?"

Mandy and I are definitely not getting bored but overall, everybody behaves very well. We have a couple of yearlings laying down and a few fall asleep still standing upright.

After 2 hours, we pack up, hook everybody back to the gangline and take off. On the straight run home, the yearlings work hard and look good. These are some good young dogs— let's go you little champions.

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A video during hookup for a run after the campout to show the yearlings in action!

My Story of Salmon

For many years, part of our fall preparation has been getting salmon. We didn’t have a fish wheel or use nets ourselves, instead we’d contact either Gopher down in Nenana or Greg Taylor in Fairbanks, get on the list, and load the bed of the pickup with chum salmon for $1.00 a fish. In the earlier years, I remember males might even be just .75/fish while females with eggs were closer to $1.00. And these were no small fish. These were monster salmon, full of good nutrients and sliminess, just the way the dogs liked ‘em. We used the salmon to flavor morning broths or for snacks on the trail or for the dog named Fish when she was being picky, who ironically greatly preferred salmon to all other food. Salmon wasn’t necessarily the main part of our dogs’ diet, but it was an important component. Especially when the temperatures are warm (say 20-40F) the dogs prefer lean meats like salmon over fattier foods.

I first really noticed last year, that the salmon were hard to come by. I’d heard for years that salmon numbers (normally in the context of King salmon) were doing strange things, but when fall time came around, I could always find a cheap truck load of chum salmon for the dogs. But last year was different. The chum run on the Yukon was very low. We wouldn’t be getting any salmon from the Tanana River, which is a tributary of the mighty Yukon. Friends in Eagle who live on the Yukon and feed their dog team primarily with salmon were in a sticky situation. Go Fund Me’s were set up to pay for dog food and have it shipped out to dog teams in the “Bush,” meaning off the road system. Cody and Paige of Squid Acres Kennel hooked me up with a fisherman out of Valdez, and we purchased Coho salmon at about $4/salmon. Everyone said, oh it’s just a strange year. There are booms and declines to all cycles. The salmon will bounce back on the Yukon.

Well, now it’s 2021, and the summer and fall chum salmon runs in the Yukon were abysmal. Ready for some numbers?

At the Pilot Station Sonar there are two runs each year: summer and fall (on the Yukon River). Take note of the changes in summer runs from year to year as well as the fall runs from year to year:

2016- 1,921,748 summer chum; 994.760 fall chum

2017- 3,093,735 summer chum; 1,829,931 fall chum

2018- 1,612,688 summer chum; 928,664 fall chum

2019- 1,402,925 summer chum; 842,041 fall chum

2020- 692,602 summer chum; 262,439 fall chum

2021- 153,497 low summer RECORD LOW; 146,172 fall chum RECORD LOW

For many mushers in the Bush, salmon is the main part of their dogs’ diet. And even more importantly, it’s a large part of their diet. Since we live in Two Rivers, which is essentially a suburb of Fairbanks, we have access to all the big box stores, tons of dog food, and other town amenities. For folks off the road system, their stories of salmon are much more dire than mine. For me, it’s more of an inconvenience, a canary in a coal mine. But for the people and dog teams on the Yukon River, it’s like they’re in the coal mine. And the salmon that makes up a huge part of their culture and way of life is disappearing before our very eyes.

Not only were the chum and king salmon runs in the Yukon record-setting lows, but the coho runs near Valdez were also abysmal this year. The fisherman who was going to supply us with a couple hundred Coho’s was unable to fill our order, and he’s as baffled as we are. So as it currently stands, we have no fish for the dogs this winter.

Now I’m no biologist. I have no idea why this is happening. I’m under the impression that biologists don’t even know why. Climate change? Trawlers? Bycatch? Normal patterns? Whatever the reason, it’s scary and should be talked about, debated, and researched. Things are changing. And while my story of salmon isn’t the most dire situation in the world (I can just buy dog food for my team), for many, their salmon stories are dire. What will become of their way of life?

In an effort to not end on such a depressing note, I’ll share some of my favorite salmon memories (photos).

Dipnetting for Red Salmon with Cartel at Chitina in the Copper River

Catching my first (and biggest) King Salmon with the help of Allen Moore

Moving the Hall’s fish wheel on the Yukon River near Eagle, Alaska

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Feel free to peruse escapement data: https://www.adfg.alaska.gov/index.cfm?adfg=commercialbyareayukon.salmon_escapement

Or if you’re interested, here’s some more great info about the salmon in general.

For those who don’t know a salmon’s life cycle or the different kinds in Alaska, I’m going to copy and paste some info from an Alaska Department of Fish and Game webpage https://www.adfg.alaska.gov/index.cfm?adfg=wildlifenews.view_article&articles_id=714:

“There’s an easy way to remember the names of each of Alaska’s five different species of Pacific salmon. It’s a method we often use when educating young kids about the different species and the salmon lifecycle. And it works.

We ask kids to hold one hand up and spread their fingers. We motion to the thumb and say, “Thumb rhymes with chum.” Then we ask them to use their pointer finger and point to their eye. “Point to your eye. Eye rhymes with sockeye.” The middle finger is the largest finger on the hand and, while there’s no catchy rhyme to remember, we say the largest of all of Alaska’s salmon is the king. Then we look at the ring finger and ask, “What color rings to some people wear?” Gold? No. What’s another color? Silver. Yes. The fourth species is a silver. And last but not least, there’s the pinky finger. Easy enough to remember that the fifth species of Alaska’s Pacific salmon is the pink.

Being able to name the five different species and knowing how to correctly identify all five is a little bit more complicated. And understanding how to tell an adult pink from a chum or a king from a coho begins with the salmon lifecycle.

A brief overview of the lifecycle of Pacific salmon

All of Alaska’s salmon begin their life as a fertilized egg in freshwater. Depending on the species and water temperature, the eggs incubate for a given length of time in the safety of the gravel in a river or lake. As the salmon develops within the egg, it undergoes certain physical changes like the development of eyes, a spine and a tail. Eventually, the egg will hatch, leading to the next life stage called the alevin. Alevin are small and can be identified by the large orange yolk sac attached to the body. Alevin remain in the gravel, protected from predators and receive nutrients from the yolk sac. At this stage, small tails are present. As the alevin grows, the nutrients in the yolk sac are depleted and the salmon begins to develop mouth parts, as well as small, ovular shapes along each side of its body. This is the point when the fish begins to leave the shelter of the gravel bed and swim around in search of food. This stage is called the fry stage.

Most, but not all, salmon fry have parr marks along each side of their body. Pink salmon fry do not have parr marks. Parr marks act as camouflage, protecting the juvenile salmon from predation. While fry are strong swimmers, they will seek out refuge in slower-moving water where they are protected from predators and where they can find food such as insect larvae and plankton.

Each species of salmon fry will remain in freshwater for a determined length of time. Some, like sockeye and silver salmon, will stay in freshwater for a year or two. Others, like pink and chum salmon migrate to sea soon after emergence. King (or Chinook) fry typically remain in freshwater for approximately a year.

As the salmon fry prepare to migrate to sea, they lose their parr marks and enter the next stage of their life, which is the smolt stage. Smolt vary in size by species and normally rear in brackish water where the sea meets freshwater. Smolt grow rapidly and when the salmon reaches a certain size, it will begin its open-ocean migration, and thus enter the adult stage of its life.

Adult salmon will remain in the ocean feeding for a given length of time depending on the species. Kings can stay in saltwater for up to 6 years, while pink salmon are on a two-year cycle, meaning they return to spawn in freshwater as two-year-old fish.

Upon returning to freshwater from the sea, salmon undergo significant physical changes. Some, like sockeye, kings and silvers develop a deep maroon or red coloration. In Southeast Alaska, spawning king salmon are more of a dark brown or blackish color. Chum salmon develop calico bands along each side of their body. Males of each species develop large, hooked jaws, called “kypes.” In addition to developing a kype, male pink and sockeye salmon develop pronounced humps on their back. Consequently, pink salmon are often referred to as “humpys.”

Salmon returning to freshwater to spawn are called “spawners,” which is the next stage of their life. Pacific salmon spawn in the stream or lake they were born in; some spawn in almost the same location where they emerged from their egg. Each species enters freshwater at different times of the year. In many river systems, kings are the first species to return, followed by sockeye, pinks, chums and lastly silvers. Like most naturally occurring events in nature, Pacific salmon run timing isn’t always consistent year-to-year, and pinpointing the day or week of any given month when a particular species of salmon will appear in freshwater is speculative at best.

In their natal stream, salmon begin the migration upriver to reach their spawning ground. The length a salmon will travel to reach the spawning grounds varies by river and by species. There are chum salmon in the Yukon River in Alaska that migrate well over 2,000 miles to reach their spawning grounds.

Once the salmon has reached its spawning grounds, the female and male pair up. The female digs a bed in the gravel called a “redd.” This is where she will deposit her eggs as the male fertilizes them with his milt. After spawning, all species of Pacific salmon die, completing their lifecycle.

Tucker's Drive North

Thanks, Tucker, for sharing your movie-worthy tale of your drive up to Two Rivers! Settle in for a good story folks!

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As the newest member of Ryno Kennel, this blog post will be less about the kennel, the dogs, and the deer. Instead, it will be a perspective story about how a person might try to cover a thousand miles to get to them all. A thousand miles is the kind of distance we think about in flights, car rides, and if you run a dog kennel, races. It’s a subjective piece of ground to cover and I'd never truly appreciated that until I was stranded in Canada.

Two Rivers, Alaska: I’d google mapped it. And from Kim Creek, Idaho, where I was working as a mule packer for the summer, google told me that it would take 45 hours (roughly 2,500 miles). “Alright,” I figured, “four days or so.” Having cultivated a nomadic style of travel with a little, built-out Tacoma, I’d made drives that far before with little thought or planning required, easy. I loaded up all the gear and left from Idaho on the opening day of hunting season. A puppy for company and a good song on the radio, bouncing merrily down the road.

A day or so later I texted Ryne from the roadside: “Hey Ryne. I just hit an elk outside of Fort Nelson, BC. Damn! No airbags but the whole front is pretty beat. I’m getting a tow right now. I’ll let you know more when I do.” Two Rivers was just over 1,000 miles away.

For those who haven’t made the journey along the Alaska Highway, Fort Nelson is a place where google begins to fail. It’s a place where you can wreck your car and interestingly teeter on the brink of being lucky that you’re in a town and unlucky that you’re in that town. For perspective, it has about 3,000 people living around it. The next closest towns are either a five hour drive South to Fort St. John, BC, or a ten hour drive North to Whitehorse in the Yukon. Fort Nelson sports a lovely Main Street that you might not notice, a daily commercial flight, and a classic crap-load of drama. So, in the beginning of my vacation there, as a stranger to the place, I often agreed with a local saying to me: “Well you’re lucky you didn’t hit the elk somewhere North. There’s nothing up there, eh.” 

A young-looking man named Kyle picked me up in the tow truck. He was nice enough, told me there wasn’t anyone local who’d do auto-body work like I needed in Fort Nelson. Oh, except one guy, “Gary, who is on vacation, buddy. Trust me, though, you don’t want nothin' to do with those other guys, bud.” Kyle dropped me off at the Motel 6 and double checked that the front desk was open (it was 10 p.m. by now) before he left with my truck. “What a nice buddy,” I thought.

I threw my stuff into the hotel room, grabbed the leash with the pup, and went in search for a beer. I figured I needed at least a beer after all of that. I wandered across the street to the liquor store and over to the boarded-up door. It said: “Closed Due To Fire.” Dang. 

The next day, from my Motel 6 base camp, I began to scrap with the insurance. Explaining to the monosyllabically-named men of State Farm, sitting in Maryland or Pennsylvania, just what kind of place Fort Nelson is turned out to be the ultimate struggle. Because, “Mr. Costain, according to google there are three auto-shops in Fort Nelson.” Well, ya, but it’s the weekend, they’re all closed, local knowledge is telling me there’s actually just one, and Gary’s on vacation, buddy. And when you tell Tom, John, Scott, and so on of State Farm that the cheapest quoted tow to the next town is well over a thousand Canadian bucks they all make the same in-pain, sharp inhaling noise and hoo-haw about coverage. Needless to say, I was on the phone a lot. In the meantime, the dog and I walked around town a lot — enough that we became locally known. 

“Hey! You’re the one that hit that elk. I was in that car that stopped to see if you were alright when it happened.”

“Oh, hey! Ya, thanks again for checking in that night, I appreciate it.”

“I saw you walking down the street the other day and was surprised to see that you’re still here.”

“Yep, my truck is still over at Kyle’s. I’m just trying to figure out how to get all my gear out of it and up to Alaska. Looking at buying a cheap local car if I can.”

“Your truck is at Kyle’s, eh?”

“Ya. He’s been pretty helpful. He got me in contact with Gary, since he’s the only auto-body guy in the area. Do you know anything about Gary? Kyle mentioned that other mechanic isn’t worth dealing with for other work.”

“Well of course he said that, he tried to burn their shop down. That mechanic is my neighbor, he’s a great guy.”

“He what?”

“Ya, Kyle’s tried to burn some other stuff down too. They can’t prove it was him but everyone knows it was.”

“Huh.”

Alright, so an alleged arsonist has possession of just about everything I own, no big deal, he’s being nice to me. I spend another day finding a cheap-enough Chevy Tahoe that I can transfer all of my stuff into. State Farm still won’t agree to pay for a tow so I’m planning to leave my truck to be fixed by Gary when he comes back from vacation in October. I’ve got a line of friends excited for the adventure to shuttle my truck up to Two Rivers when it’s fixed. I’m ready to be on my way.

That night I relax and watch the newest episode of Bachelor in Paradise. It features a girl who got COVID on her birthday last year but claims that this year on her birthday having a guy tell her he doesn’t like her is ten times worse. I scratch the puppy’s tummy and talk to her about the show: “That’s aggressive. Aaron kisses too aggressively.” 

The next afternoon my man in his Chevy Tahoe pulls up along the street next to a local small-parts mechanic and tells me that a part fell off on his way over here. Great. “No worries, bud.” He’s just gonna have this here mechanic grab a new part and put it on. The mechanic, Jake, takes one look underneath the Tahoe and tells me: “This guy’s tryin to hose you. This thing can’t get you to Alaska, not even close.” Dang. That Tahoe was about one of the only vehicles on the scant local listings that looked like it could even get me out of Fort Nelson.

I fill Jake in on the rest of my situation.

“So Kyle has your truck, eh? You know he —”

“Tried to burn down the shop over there? Ya. A woman who’s that guy’s neighbor told me.”

“Ah, so you’re already filled in on the local gos. That woman’s my neighbor too.”

“So did Kyle set the fire that closed the liquor store over there?”

“Kinda. He burned two cop cars that were in the parking lot. Him and his friends. Yeah, ya just get under there with a knife, pop a hole in the gas tank, light a match and run. Everyone knows it was him cause his wife got pissed at him one night and told some people.”

“Huh. Well what do you know about Gary? He said he’d fix my car when he gets back from vacation.”

“Gary? Well, Gary isn’t licensed with the provincial insurance. Like, I can’t have him do any auto-body work on any of the things I have here because the insurance won’t work with him at all.”

“Huh.”

OK, so an alleged arsonist has possession of just about everything I own, the only auto-body mechanic within 300 kilometers isn’t legally allowed to work on cars (at least in Canada), and there are damn hosers selling cars around here just like there would be anywhere else. I take a walk with the dog and call State Farm. “All I need is coverage for the tow,” I put simply. That’s all I need. I can get myself out of here fine, just cover my tow, will ya? I have comprehensive coverage! Will you cover my tow? The State Farm agent tells me he isn’t sure what my insurance plan will allow. But, “Good news”, he says, “we’ve finally decided to put you in contact with a Canadian car insurance team. That team should reach out to you in the next few days.” Great.

It’s still 1,000 miles to Two Rivers. A professional, long distance dog team would be halfway there by now.

As it turns out, Jake not-from-state-farm is my actual neighbor, too. I can see his mechanic shop from Motel 6. I walk back in and ask him if he knows anyone who’s not a hoser who might be interested in selling me a car. He points outside to a Ford F350 Super Duty Turbo Diesel with high-rise fenders and a lift kit that requires a ladder. “I wasn’t planning on selling it now, but if you can’t find anything else in the next couple of days, I’ll give you a deal on it.” I’m thinking State Farm should make Jake a brand ambassador so their jingle can actually hold true.

Jake and his truck

A couple of days later, after I’ve visited every functioning ATM in Fort Nelson multiple times, I buy Jake’s truck. Newest plan: rent a u-haul trailer and tow my own damn truck up to Whitehorse. It’s been a week. Just for the hell of it I call the generic State Farm number and give them my claim number. I get on the phone with Rob and tell him what’s up. Rob approves coverage for a tow cost of approximately $1500 within three minutes. He tells me to find a mechanic in Fort St. John and ask them who they recommend for towing (this is more of a suggestion than a requirement). 

This phone call basically shoots a few cc’s of dopamine through my brain after a week of stress hormones, and that, mixed with some angsty impatience to get the hell out of there, creates my next dumb decision: I get off the phone with Rob and take his suggestion seriously. Within a minute I’m on the phone with a towing company in Fort St. John. Screw it, I think, I’d be able to breath an even deeper sigh of relief if I can just get my car away from this arsonist kid. Over the phone the most Canadian accent I’ve encountered yet tells me, “Ya, I’ll send a guy over to Kyle’s. And I’ll send the cops too! I ain’t afraid of no gangsters!” Never had I ever thought about a place where you could be driving down the road and possibly run into a moose, elk, caribou, buffalo, or gangster. So I more or less disregard this gangster comment and head over to Kyle’s tow yard. 

I get there at about the same time the Fort St. John tow truck does. What the heck? Isn’t he supposed to be driving all the way from Fort St. John and show up here when I’ve already hoofed it North? Apparently there was so much public pressure to have a towing company in Fort Nelson who’s people wouldn’t light stuff on fire that this Fort St. John towing company has a truck stationed in the area. Unbeknownst to me, I not only invited a competitor to the gates, I invited THE competitor to the gates — The Enemy. Great. Kyle’s wife lets me into the yard since he’s not there. Being one-track-mind in the moment, I beeline it to my Tacoma and immediately start tossing stuff into the new truck. When I look up, I realize the enemy is gone. Kyle’s wife has cussed him out and sent him away. Great. And as I’m transferring a tote full of books, Kyle pulls in fast, close up next to me, and begins interrogating my decision to hire another tow company. I throw State Farm under that flaming bus and pump on the fuel. "It’s all their fault," I say. "Sorry man, my hands are tied. The agent told me it was the only way they’d pay for it." We both look up. The Fort St. John tow truck is back…with the cops. “I’ll be damned,” I think. Kyle books it over there. There’s yelling. I put my head down, pick up the pace, and start chucking stuff into the bed of the new pick-up. Then Kyle runs into his house and the cop flags me over. 

“You better decide which one you want to tow your car because they’re both in a race to charge your credit card right now.” 

“Great. Well I guess I should choose Kyle so he doesn’t light my truck on fire, right?”

“You know about that, eh?”

In the end, I went with a new insurance company. It’s called: I didn’t make enemies with the arsonist who's help I might need when I hit another animal within a couple hundred miles of Fort Nelson on the way back to the states. So Kyle towed my truck to Fort St. John and I drove a monster truck the rest of the way to Two Rivers. I got there, met the kennel, and was given a first job: Could you take the sled dogs who don’t get to run right now on a walk? Yes, yes I could definitely do that.

RK Crew

We’ve got an awesome human crew at Ryno Kennel this year!

Full-Time Trainers (aka handler)

Simon, Midnight, and Perm

Meet Simon!

Originally from Switzerland, this will be Simon’s third winter in Two Rivers. The last two winters, Simon handled for our friend and neighbor- Smokin’ Ace Kennels. Last winter, even though Simon was working at Smokin’ Ace, he lived here at Ryno Kennel with RK handler, Mandy. When Smokin’ Ace Kennels opted not to have a handler, we scooped him up! This year, Simon is signed up to run in the Quest 200, which will be his first multi-day sled dog race! Simon’s main focus will be training the race dogs.

When not mushing, Simon likes exploring with his dogs Midnight and RK retiree Perm, playing Magic against his fiance Mandy, climbing in Switzerland, and doing nerdy things like watching Anime (which I say very affectionately).

Meet Tucker!

Originally from Montana, Tucker moved to Maryland after college to conduct research at the National Institute on Deafness and Other Communication Disorders. Big city living wasn’t quite for him, so he returned to the West to try his hand at mule packing and dog mushing. Last winter, Tucker got his first taste of mushing at a sled dog tourism kennel in Montana. Tucker and his dog Charlotte recently arrived at Ryno Kennel. Tucker’s focus will be training the yearlings, guiding tours, and getting a feel for a racing kennel in Alaska!

When not mushing, Tucker likes skiing, climbing, reading, drawing, and poorly playing the mandolin.

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Other Human Teammates

Mandy!

RK followers probably recognize this lady from last year! While Mandy would love to be paid in experiences (cough cough handle for free), Mandy had to get a real job and make some money this winter. Lucky for us, she wants to help out at RK on her days off! Mandy has been busy writing a book and working at a local cafe. With any luck, I’ll be able to rope Mandy into helping with race updates…wink wink.

When not working or helping out at Ryno Kennel, Mandy can be found napping, playing with her dogs Midnight and RK retiree Perm, beating her fiance Simon at Magic, or doing other nerdy things like watching Anime.

Kalyn!

After three years of handling at RK, Kalyn has transitioned into reindeer training and tourism! While we regularly see Kalyn at the kennel, they have moved down the road and focus primarily on reindeer and aurora tours at Chena Outdoor Collective as well as building up their photography business- Kalyn Holl Photography. Check it out on Instagram and Facebook!

When not working with reindeer or dogs, Kalyn is busy with their plant obsession and collecting eleventy-five million plants, primarily succulents.