I lost my team a couple of weeks ago. Everyone is ok. I just had to write that down before I continued. Losing your team is every musher’s worst nightmare. A lot of books or blogs that are written by novice mushers joke about losing a team, but there’s absolutely nothing funny about it. It’s exceptionally dangerous for the dogs. A small team might stop with just a verbal “WHOA!” but most larger teams will not. And my team was no exception. I’ve been mushing for 11 years now, and I knew it would happen some day. I always figured it would be more dramatic, like I was skewered on a branch and let go of the sled only because I had a stick through my gut. But it wasn’t anything nearly that dramatic. We stopped to snack. I walked up the team petting the dogs and feeding everyone a chunk of beef. They got excited and popped the snowhook. I leapt on the sled and rode briefly on the bag. Then I tried to set the hook from the sled bag and fell off in the process. The moment of seeing the team run away as I yelled whoa…I wanted to vomit. I immediately began yelling for Mandy (who was running a team behind me). She mushed up, jumped in her sled bag, I hopped on the runners, and we mushed as fast as we could after my team. I handed my phone to Mandy and she began calling. Within minutes, Kalyn, Derek, Matt, and Will were on snowmachines racing towards us. I was on the phone with Aliy as she was firing up her snowmachine when I came around the corner, and there was the team in a big, tangled ball. Miraculously, everyone was ok. My body trembled as all the anxiety and stress of those few minutes came surging out. As Derek says, it was a cheap lesson. And one that I’ll never forget or take for granted.

The reason a loose team is so dangerous is because it’s exceptionally hard for them to stop. All 10 or 12 dogs have to consciously decide to stop at the exact same moment, and even then, the sled will probably slide into the back of the wheel dogs if a tree or deep snow doesn’t slow the sled first. And as we all know, sled dogs love to pull, so the pressure of the tugline is their happy place. It’s how they feel secure and at peace. That’s why Covid is like a loose dog team. We’re all running along, working, but we’re out of control. Sure the fast and healthy dogs can sprint all the way home. The dogs who don’t need to poop, they’re good to go. But the older dogs or the dogs who really need to use the bathroom or the dogs who accidentally misstep- they’re about to get tangled and be seriously injured or killed, but we’re all still running along. The leaders could decide we need to stop and slam on the brakes. It’d result in a massive mess of tangles and lines. Dogs might get grumpy with each other, but at least we’d stop. And everyone would be ok. But here I am in team, running along, pulling. Giving tours to people from out-of-state. Planning to compete in races that will bring together large groups of people and travel to remote communities. And I’m doing it because this is what I know and love and feel comfortable doing (and we are taking precautions like masks and congregating outside). But is it the right thing? Maybe I need to put on the brakes and stop pulling. I might not be able to stop the team, but maybe I can slow us down enough so that one more dog can keep up. Alaska’s Covid-19 case count has hit an all-time high. We had a record 933 new cases reported Saturday. Our ICU beds are more than 75% full, with only 30 beds remaining of the 128 in the state. And while I love Alaskans, the “you can’t tell me how to live my life” mentality makes it really difficult for the general populous to support a mask mandate. Even though my job (tourism and racing) is essential to me and feeding our pack, is it essential to society? Probably not.

But our decisions in these next few months will have many repercussions. Repercussions for our business, Chena Outdoor Collective, a major way we support ourselves. If we close down, how will we remain financially stable? Repercussions for our kennel and sponsorships, the main way we support the dogs and our mushing lifestyle. If we don’t race, will we loose sponsors for future years? This winter is probably the last season of racing for some of our older all-stars; would we miss out on what promises to be one incredible race team? And repercussions, most importantly, for the health of the people in Alaska. If we keep giving tours and racing, will our health care system become overwhelmed and people die unnecessarily? Would we be contributing to the problem?

I’m writing this blog post not as an announcement of what we’re going to do but just as a window into what’s going on in our lives and how Covid-19 has impacted us. It’s a way for me to look back in several years and remember the winter of 2020-2021 for Ryno Kennel.

I try to keep Ryno Kennel from ever having an opinion on topics that aren’t mushing related, so I hope this post doesn’t upset sponsors or discourage fans from following, but also we live in crazy times.

In the meantime, we’re training for the races and enjoying the Two Rivers trails with this rockstar team of dogs.