Fifty-seven days from now, the great race from Anchorage to Nome, Alaska begins. With apologies to Jack London, neither of my furry California-bred pals is a “White Fang” candidate.
I got to thinking about dog sleds, my Bucket List, and more strenuous exercise today after a conversation with a co-worker. Approaching retirement with an attitude – no, zeal is more appropriate – she has already traveled to glaciers, gone mountain biking in the Rockies, and in 2017 or 20018, looking at an Alaska dog sled adventure.
I know I am getting in better shape when I drop a couple pant sizes during the holiday season. And I am motivated twice a day to walk my dogs, at a brisk pace, up the many neighborhood hills. And occasionally further afield, I am planning to hike steeper trails in the county and the dogs will be right with me.
When the temperature dips below 50 F in winter in Southern California they are happier. But it would be a task for younger at heart to train dog and man to be harnessed to a sled and RACE a thousand miles in the negative or positive single digits. For man and beast NOT stopping to pee on something every few yards will take intense training.
Think we all will curl up on our warm beds and cheer the mushers, the dogs, the support teams and Extreme adventurists via the Internet. Now to get hot cocoa for me and biscuits for the fellas.
It's a Dog's Life 