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Whoosh! We take off, our sled nearly flying off the ground. Skookum and Hawk and Bamboo strain and huff, and we're running, racing over the soft white snow.
My sled dogs have been waiting for this day since they were puppies, and I have, too. Only the shusshh of the runners and the jingling of the collars and snaps disturb the quiet-- until we meet a moose. I have to steer my dogs away from the danger, and their instincts have to lead me when I can't see. Mushing can be dangerous, but there is nothing like the freedom and speed and peace that come from joining my sled dogs on a run.