Soft Sounds Of Skijoring

Sunday Dec 26 2010
by Shelley Ramsay

Dedicated to our Siberians ~ Then and Now

Skijoring and running with dogs strips away the unnecessary pieces of my life and brings me to a place where it’s just those soft sounds and the consistency of breath and moving forward. Traveling along at the speed of my dogs in front of me is a real rush ~ especially the initial burst when my dogs take their first furious, wild strides. They truly open up to their fullest potential and I am only tagging along at this point.  It's when they settle into a determined pace,  "on purpose",  that I can join the team and begin to ski with them, adding to the momentum.

Recreational skijoring, for me, is a time to explore and take some breaks to look around. Stop and watch my dogs' breath hang heavy in the air around their faces as they listen for the ghosts in the trees off the trail. I love to sit in the snow as they dip their snouts and sometimes their whole face into the snow and come up laughing. During these breaks, they are content but their ears are alert and their eyes are sharp and the colors in their fur seem to intensify from the run. And, when I’m with more than one dog, it’s always in unison ~ always simultaneous and instinctual ~ like a flock of tiny birds or a school of fish which suddenly turn and twist together at a precise moment without a known or explained reason behind it; so do my dogs decide it’s time to line out and get ready to pull again.  I watch as their decision is made, and I get up and respond to their demands, and we set off again for more exploration.

Competitive skijoring is another thing,  altogether. The time spent in the starting chute, trying to hold back the furious and wild energy which is present at the beginning of each run, is kind of like experiencing the waves of an ocean for the first time ~ scarey and exciting all at once.   When they count down the final 10 seconds is when you realize dogs can count backwards, too!   The frenzy intensifies and there’s nothing left to do but hope.  Hope that the trail is as good as they told you it was at the race meeting.  Hope that you can stand up long enough for the dogs to settle into that set pace.  Hope that the corners they mentioned at the meeting aren’t as sharp as they said they’d be and hope that if you wipe out today, you’ll get back up!

Once we release from the chute and begin our race down the trail, and the shaking in my legs reduces to a point where I can trust them underneath me, all of it comes back to me.  I begin to feel the pace and pick out when I can stride, or when I should just stick to poling.  Races bring out a different pace in the dogs, and sometimes when I try to ski, I only hinder the momentum.  It’s better to just let the dogs run at times, and help when you can.

It’s very exciting when another team comes into view in front of us! Potentially, it means a pass, and when you’re running good leaders, it means a clean pass. There’s nothing like the feeling of passing another team without having to alter the fast pace we’re setting.  What’s even more enlightening , is when you’ve passed and the dogs pick up speed once they are running out front.  After years of running with dogs who would never be leaders in a team, it’s refreshing and hard to believe it can really happen!  We spent years racing with dogs who loved to chase, but once they caught the team in front of them, the race was over because they were more interested in having a meeting with those other dogs, than continuing on to the finish line.  The first time I passed a team and my dogs kept moving forward, I thought I’d won the lottery.  For competitive skijoring, it really is most beneficial to run with leaders, not wheelers!

After a long circuit of racing in team events and skijoring competitively, I find my nicest days are the ones when I hook up my older dogs ~ the ones who gave us so much frustration on the race trail, because they wouldn’t pass or run out front of the other teams.  They are the dogs which are meant for exploring.  They are the dogs which I hear in that subconscious space.  They are the ones which will always be echoing the HhhaHhhaHhhaHhhaHhha between the CHUK SHHhhh CHUK SHHhhhof my poles and skis. They are the souls which have shared some of my best days. They are the friends which have changed my life.

A belt, a line, a harness, a pair of skis and the soft sounds which I cannot live without ~ some people call it skijoring ~ I call it divine.