Broken Trails (43 page)

By the time everything was ready to go, the veteran musher had already left. Regardless, Lainey kept a close eye on the front door of the armory, half expecting the rookie to come bursting out as she signed the check out sheet. He did not, and she urged her dogs to get a move on. They obliged, hardly showing the effects of their twelve hour run not so long ago. Still, it was not until Shaktoolik was out of sight that Lainey breathed a sigh of relief at avoiding her competition.

As Scotch had said, the trail was easy. It was too easy. It shot straight as an arrow with little variation of scenery. Flat, bland, and boring, the only excitement was the occasional swell of ice that roughened the ride. Even the blowing wind did little to make things interesting. Lainey saw the veteran about a mile ahead, but knew better than to try to catch up. She still had two hundred miles to go. Instead, she followed Scotch's suggestion and put her ear plugs in, listening to music as her team ate up the miles.

Distances were deceiving, as was the wind on her face. The two combined made her feel as if they sped along at a good clip of fifteen or twenty miles an hour, an impossibility for her team which had been clocked at fourteen on a short sprint and an excellent day back at the kennels. They could not maintain that pace for as long as this. The view rarely changed, giving lie to the sensation of speed. It seemed that they ran, ran, ran on a huge hamster wheel - no matter how long or hard the dogs trotted, nothing changed.

Lainey pulled out her letters frequently, especially the first one, to keep her spirits up.

The sun went down, and she stopped to snack the dogs and check them over. Everyone appeared strong and vigorous and she gave them each an extra chunk of moose liver for their efforts. Then she put on her head lamp and changed the battery pack on her iPod.

She rode on sea ice, fairly far from shore. Before she turned the music back on, she heard a deep loud crack somewhere to her left and yanked the plugs from her ears. Lainey jumped and stared, suddenly wondering if she was too far out. She had been vigilant so far, always finding the next trail marker. The dogs glanced at the sound, but did not seem anxious. The trail breakers would not send them too far out onto the sea, would they? Had it been warm enough for the threat of melting to be serious? She seemed to recall a book she read on the first woman winner of the Iditarod, something about the sea ice breaking and sending the trail marker several hundred feet out to sea. The ice had then reformed, and her team had lead her straight out to sea to get to that marker.

"You know what you're doing?" she asked Trace.

He glanced back at her as if to say, "Well, duh. I am the one with the experience here."

Lainey decided to leave the iPod off for the time being.

Several times through the course of the evening, she heard the ice cracking, but nothing indicated any danger to her team. Eventually, she turned the music back on and ignored the sounds, though it was difficult. Her ears strained to listen beyond the tunes and she whispered along with the lyrics in a further effort to distract herself.

After what seemed like a full night of mushing, she saw lights ahead and felt a thrill of relief. Finally. Her initial pleasure dampened as the lights sat off in the distance forever, a shining beacon that they were almost to their destination but never seemed to come closer. It was another hour or more before she actually arrived at the checkpoint.

"That sucked," she told the volunteer.

He chuckled. "Yeah, we hear that a lot. Almost makes you wish you were back at the Burn?"

"Almost!"

The race officials had rented a building nearby for mushers and volunteers to rest in, but it was a couple of blocks from where the dogs were parked. As she fed and watered her team, she considered her options. While it would be nice to dry some of her gear, providing there was room, she could lose whatever edge she had cultivated. Anyone staying in the building would know when she left to prepare for departure. At least if she slept with the dogs she had a shot at sneaking out when no one was looking.

Decided, she devoured her dinner.

Six hours later, Lainey was at the checkpoint with her team, ready to go. She had seen the rookie she had ditched in Shaktoolik snoozing a couple of sleds over, and grinned to herself. He had yet to wake when she pulled out of the parking area. This guy was good, but Roman Spencer had been harder to trick. She wondered how he was doing and vowed to check his statistics at the next checkpoint.

"This is for you," the volunteer, a young woman this time, said.

Lainey smiled, taking the envelope. Scotch's handwriting was on it and Lainey tucked it into her pocket. "Thanks."

She signed the clipboard and headed out of Koyuk at three in the morning. Keeping tabs on the trail ahead, she quickly opened the envelope.

Lainey,

Forty-eight more miles down, forty-eight to go to the next checkpoint. You've mushed for over nine hundred miles! You have less than two hundred to go!

When you get to Nome, I'll introduce you to a friend of mine. Her name's Beth. She and her girlfriend have offered us their spare room while we're in town. They live on the outskirts of Nome. Lots of hot water for showering and clean clothes, privacy, a large fluffy bed to catch up on your rest. And Beth is a fantastic cook.

You'd better not take too long or I'll use up all the hot water.

Love you,

Scotch

She knew the grin on her face was wide and foolish, but could not help its presence. Those cartoon hearts and fireworks twirled about her head again and she laughed aloud. Thank God those hallucinations were her own.

Soon the boredom set in as they continued along sea ice. It was ten miles or more before the trail cut inland and across low ground. She felt a modicum of relief with the knowledge that those forlorn sounding cracks from the ice would no longer indicate a perceived danger to her.

The trail began climbing a series of small hills and ridges, working its way back into a stand of trees. The added protection from the wind cut the chill. Lainey had been in the frozen breeze for hours and it felt almost balmy. This was hardly the tropical gig she had planned on getting from Strauss all those months ago.

At the final height of the last summit, she saw a red light in the distance. Switching on her head lamp, she dug out her trail notes to see if anything was mentioned there. It was a radio beacon at Moses Point, about twenty miles away from her. She wondered if she would get closer to it before Elim or if the trail would turn away.

Putting her notes away, she checked her watch as they headed back into a valley. Two hours had passed. Conceivably, she was nearing the halfway point of this stretch. Her dogs looked healthy and strong as they loped down the trail. Originally she had planned to take another six hour break at Elim, but she began to wonder if she could push through to Golovin instead, only another twenty-six miles beyond. She took her notes back out to study.

The wind picked up some more as they descended, becoming more fierce than when she had started. Weather reports had not indicated gusts of this strength. She realized they ran into a small river valley and that it was a natural wind tunnel. The trail ahead was blown out in some places, and her dogs began to slow as they forged their way through.

Her visibility was still good, regardless of the wind plucking at her parka and gear. It was strong enough in some places that she felt the sled shudder, the wind coming from her right rather than from behind. Stopping was not suggested in her notes. Besides she had no idea if the wind would die down or not. She could be waiting quite some time before it mellowed enough to make her run easy. There was a cabin indicated on the other side of the river she crossed and she considered stopping.

No. They were nearly at the halfway point and any delay would take a bite out of her standings. That rookie was still back there and she knew that a couple of other mushers had gotten the jump on her at the last checkpoint. Another scan of her dogs showed them strong and solid. They would push on through.

The Kwik River lay before them, and the team crossed with ease. Within a mile or two, the trail turned so that the wind blew more up their back than crossways, and Lainey breathed a sigh. Even her dogs seemed happier, their tails wagging a bit more as they no longer fought every step of the way. They dropped back onto sea ice. The Moses Point beacon blinked ahead of her and her team pressed forward on the smooth and straight trail. Even the false menace of cracking sea ice did not faze Lainey now, pleased to be out of the wind tunnel. Soon even that threat to her equilibrium was gone as they climbed back onto shore.

Old Elim was ahead, abandoned for whatever reasons and converted into a fishing camp. They passed old buildings boarded up for winter, but in the darkness of dawn, Lainey thought she saw a light shining in one of the cabins. Did people come out here for the race? The wind nipped at her heels and her team continued on, leaving the near ghost village to whatever brave soul preferred the solitude.

More buildings ahead, the Moses Point station, also abandoned. As the sky lightened toward dawn, Lainey could make out towers in the distance. The one beacon blinked on and on. Once she passed the last of them, the trail turned onto a road.

The wind had blown the road bare in spots. Lainey was glad the gravel here was not as devastating to her runners as the one outside the Unalakleet checkpoint. Still, the ride was a rough one, and she directed the dogs to the shoulder where at least some snow remained.

Flat lands gave way to a steady climb. The snow here was packed and she jumped off the runners to run along with the dogs until they reached the summit. It was not as difficult as the three step series of the Blueberry Hills to Shaktoolik, but this was a tough climb nonetheless. As they struggled, Lainey realized that coming through before dawn was the perfect time. She shed her parka to keep from sweating. She did not envy the others coming behind her who arrived in the heat of the afternoon; their dogs would suffer the consequences by overheating.

At the summit, she hopped back aboard the sled and they began a leisurely descent. She saw the lights of Elim and checked her watch. It was after eight in the morning; they had been on this stretch of trail for just over five hours. The leg to Golovin was only twenty-eight miles. Should she snack the dogs and blow through, or take the six hour break she was scheduled? Had she come through in the afternoon, waiting for nightfall would have been the plan to give the dogs a chance to cool down. Such was not the case and her team looked ready for bear.

The checkpoint was a state run maintenance garage. Lainey pulled up and signed in.

"Staying?"

"Nope. Blowing through."

The checker nodded and made a notation. "Had a good run then?"

"Better than some," Lainey said.

Once the vet checked her dogs, she picked up her food drop. That would see her through to White Mountain. It seemed silly to have a food drop at Golovin which was such a short distance away. Between Elim and White Mountain was the one small checkpoint and only fifty miles so she had not sent anything to the Golovin checkpoint.

After the drop was packed, she went up the line with treats, booties and ointment, moving on automatic as she greeted each animal with affection and food. She ascertained the health of each dog, heaping praise upon their furry heads. Even Bonaparte, who did the totally unexpected and licked her face. Lainey blinked at him in shock but didn't press the issue, not wanting to get his back up. He must be as tired as she was to have allowed his regal manner to slip.

She brought the team back to the checkpoint.

"Lainey Hughes!"

A volunteer skidded forward, holding a white envelope, and Lainey smiled.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Lainey,
Remember our twenty-four in McGrath? When I woke up, I was wrapped around you and couldn't help myself. I've dreamed of holding you like that for months. I can't wait for you to meet me in Nome.
Our room is tucked into the back of Beth's house. I'm looking forward to sharing the bed with you. No parents, no little brothers or sisters, no dogs, no race to prepare for. Just you and me in our private hideaway.
I don't plan on stopping next time.
Hurry!
Scotch
SWALLOWING HARD, LAINEY gripped the handlebars of her sled. Her knees felt weak from the rush of arousal pulsing through her system. No matter how tired she was when she arrived, she vowed to get a shower and brush her teeth before going to bed. There was no way she would have the will power to interrupt Scotch waking her again.

She carefully put Scotch's latest note with the others and stomped upon her rampaging libido. Now was not the time to be sidetracked. With some effort, she forced herself to pay attention to the trail.

They promptly headed back out onto sea ice. Even with the deep booming crack she heard, Lainey did not falter. She had more important things to consider, like getting to Nome and jumping Scotch Fuller's bones at her first opportunity.

"Stop that!" she said aloud, smirking. Samson grinned at her from his position, used to her occasional outbursts after so long on the trail. She smiled back at him.

After only a couple of miles, the trail pushed inland and upward. The climb was a gradual one at first and the added forest helped cut the wind. In fact, as they mushed along, Lainey could almost imagine they were back at home on one of the trails she was familiar with. Protected from wind, the trail was not drifted over and they made good time. Two miles further on they pulled out of the treeline and reached the top of a ridge.

Lainey's notes specified 'Great View,' sharply underlined. Since they were on level ground, she called the dogs to a halt. Granted, they had not really gone far, but she gave them a small snack anyway. She was already considering blowing through Golovin, too, and pushing through to White Mountain. Better to give the team frequent rest breaks now than exhaust them before the end of this run.