This year has been a wonderful collection of experiences involving snowmobiles to reinforce our conviction to run sled dogs.
The first snowmobile adventure was way back in early January when we needed to break trail for a busy week. Until recently we had always broken trail with big teams of dogs, then a few years ago Peter bought a snowmobile, and Doug, our resident snowmobile jockey, would use that to break trail. So with Doug’s passing this summer one of the many jobs that needed to be filled now was riding the snowmobile. Well it turns out when you have a bunch of employees that love cruising around the woods in the peace and quiet a dogsled offers it is hard to find volunteers to sit on a noisy snow machine. So I was volunteered to take it out to break trail, not realizing that the spare belt no longer existed. Things we going fairly well, I had broken open about 25 miles of trail, and was getting the hang of running the noisy thing, when all of the sudden shards of black rubber came flying out of the cowling around the engine, and forward momentum ceased rather suddenly. I popped the hood and realized instantly that the belt was toast, and there was no replacement for it. So I began my twelve mile hike to the highway, the whole time going over in my head all the reasons dogsledding is better than snowmobiling, i.e. dogs might get tired and hungry but they don’t really break down and leave you stranded. When I finally made it to the road, at 9pm, a very late hour for there to be any traffic in our neck of the woods here, I was picked up by a very kind elderly lady who immediately began chastising me for snowmobiling alone. The criticisms ended when we got to the bar in town, from where I could call a friend to pick me up. A few days later, with a new belt in hand we ran in with dogs to rescue the machine. It wasn’t running great on the way out, so we decided to take it to town and get it looked at.
The next adventure began early one blizzardy morning when Christine was snowed into her driveway and was forced to hitchhike to town to pick the snowmobile up from the shop. Amazingly she was passed by two cars (did I mention it was a blizzard) before someone stopped, so much for Minnesota nice, eh. She finally got to town, and drove the snow machine out to the kennel where she used it to shuttle guests in from the road, the weather was so bad they couldn’t drive in, which is literally unheard of. After everyone was here and the guides were giving their morning “how to drive a dog sled” talks, Peter took the snow mobile out to break trail, he made it about a mile and the engine died, and wouldn’t start. Lucky for him, his walk home was short. A few days later we again took a team of dogs out to rescue the snowmachine, this time we pulled it home with the dogs, and sent it right back to the shop in town.
The final adventure for the snowmobile this winter (and the third time it was used), occurred when we went in to take the yurt out. Taking the yurt out is always a race. We have to wait long enough that the snow and ice built up along the walls has melted, but not too long that the ice on the lake is bad (or we just have to resign ourselves to the fact that it will be coming out in a boat). This year the ice was going out quickly because the way the winter was the ice built in a strange layered way that was not as strong as normal. So we ran in with a dogsled and a snowmobile to pack out the yurt, the ice was covered in water from rain and melt, and we knew we were cutting it close, however the first two loads went great, and the end was in sight, so far it had been one of the smoothest yurt take downs yet. Then the dog team left and the snowmobile was to follow as soon as we finished loading the sled. Who knows if the last load was heavier than the others, or the ice was just weakened every time we ran over it, something happened so the last run never made it out, the snowmachine hit a soft spot and the track dug right through the ice and began to sink. Luckily it didn’t sink very deep, the track went in, but the front of the machine stayed out, keeping the engine dry, and preventing any gas or oil from leaking into the lake. The sled carrying the yurt however was not so lucky, and it sank into four feet of water. Once again we had a long walk out to contemplate the superiority of dog sledding, which was emphasized when Peter returned with the team he was running to see what was keeping us. So we again returned with dogs, and we tied a team of 10 to the snowmobile and they pulled the machine right out onto good ice, when they got it out it seemed to me they all looked back it at with what can only be described as contempt on their faces. Then we finished hauling the yurt out with the dogs.
So the moral of the story is if you want to have a great dog sledding adventure come with us, our dogs are strong, and they will be as long as we own a snowmobile. If you want to have a snowmobiling adventure, unless you really want it to be an adventure, don’t invite any of us to go with you.
Shawn McCarty
While studying the bag pipes in Glasgow, Scotland, Shawn McCarty suffered the misfortune of losing a peculiar bet at the greyhound track, the result of which will make him the first person to circumnavigate the globe totally under the power of dogs. He crossed from Galway Ireland to Maine in 2000 in a catamaran pulled by a team of 16 yellow labs (the team originally included 4 chocolate labs but they were eaten by sharks before the first day was over). When he arrived in Maine he traded his labs for huskies and headed for the Bearing strait. However it turned out to be rough going. Running dogs is much different than swimming them so progress was slow. Worse yet Shawn had not bought a new compass when he arrived in America, so he was navigating with his old metric compass from Europe, and being unaware of this fairly serious problem he found himself in MN instead of Alaska. He has been working at White Wilderness since 2006 to save money to resupply (the first thing he will buy is a new compass) and continue on. He hopes to complete his circumnavigation by 2013.
Doug Harris
Old man, lost in the woods, and loving every minute of it.
Theo Theobald
Theo has been running dogs for over fifteen years – jumping in head first on an arctic training expedition in Canada for her first dogsledding experience. The hook was set, and dog sledding became a focal point. Theo has led outdoor trips throughout the US and Canada for the past 20-some years. She spent 16 years directing programs for Cornell University’s Outdoor Education program – one of the largest collegiate outdoor programs in the country.
Minnesota’s north woods has always held a particular fondness, and is now considered home year round. What started as a one winter sabbatical turned in to a winter lifestyle. She has been guiding trips for White Wilderness since 2003. She is often the voice on the phone when you call, as she juggles the office details as well as guiding trips. Known for her adventurous spirit and quest for the trail less taken, Theo is equally at home in the backcountry kitchen as on the sled runners. In the other season, she’s a course director, staff trainer and senior instructor for the Voyageur Outward Bound School, overseeing sea kayak and canoe expeditions. Spare time??…planting ambitious gardens, biking, skiing and exploring the next unexplored trail that beckons with her exuberant black lab, Lily.
Heather Jeske Pharr
Some kids beg to go to Disney World, some beg for a pony; as a kid, Heather Jeske Pharr begged to go winter camping (actually, she begged for a pony, too, but that’s a whole other story). For years she pestered her dad to let her go on the yearly trip to the woods outside of Ely. When he finally took her, she was hooked. Together, she and her friend Princess (the family dog), explored frozen swamps, built fires in waist deep snow, bombed down hills that weren’t really meant to be tackled on cross country skies, shared frozen snicker bars, and at night, enjoyed howling wolves and homemade chili back at camp with dad. Back home in Hudson, Wisconsin, Heather constructed elaborate harnesses out of dog leashes and rope, and a very tolerant Princess let herself be led around the yard towing an orange toboggan loaded with snow.
Not much has changed since Heather was a kid. She still prefers frozen swamps to soggy ones, and it’s no surprise when she comes home with stories of questionable skiing activities. She still enjoys a bowl of homemade chili and a good howl at night, and there’s usually a snicker bar or two in her pocket. As for those homemade harnesses, to save time, Heather now uses the prefabricated ones. But if the need arose, she is confident that she could still whip up a harness using whatever materials she found on hand. Since 2005, Heather’s delightful smile, resourcefulness, and pocket full of chocolates have insured that her trips are personalized and memorable journeys with fun-loving huskies.
In 2017 Heather was made the Countess of Dogs and Trails with Logs by the King of the Winter Carnival.
Paige May
As the youngest member of the White Wilderness staff, Paige is the resident adrenaline junky (pony tail included). When the waves of Lake Superior turn to ice and are no longer surfable in a kayak, he jumps onto the back of a dogsled to feed his need for an adventure. Paige is just the kind of guy you want leading you across the trails and frozen lakes of the northwoods.
When he isn’t planted on the runners of a sled, Paige can be found flying across lakes on his snowboard behind a kite, or on less windy days, hard at work crafting custom canoe paddles, beaver mitts, and knives.
Kahsha Hyde
Kahsha literally grew up in the woods, just a few miles away from White Wilderness. Once she mastered the basics of standing and holding on, the next logical step was to do both… on the back of a dogsled. As a kid the majority of her summers were spent deep in the Quetico Provincial Park, both on personal canoe trips and guided trips with her parents. By her teens she became co-guide with them. Living in the bush, so far off the beaten path, her only way to get home was to dogsled or ski four miles. She became an avid dogsledder, as many children of mushers do. She got involved with the White Wilderness kennel at the age of 15 and continued though high school. Kahsha has stories from the past 20 years of calling the woods around White Wilderness home.
At present she is a nomad, claiming ten moves in the last three years. She has spent the last two years working with reptiles and is now the senior keeper at a small zoo in Maryland that boasts the most diverse venomous collection of snakes on the east coast. The winters are slow at the zoo and she’s been missing real winters. Having not seen sub-zero temperatures in almost three years, she is eager to return home and spend some quality time in the snow!
Next on her adventure list is a masters degree in conservation biology, becoming a ranger in Africa protecting megafauna from poaching, starting a reptilian-handling spreading her message of conservation though education, and of course, hammocking with her best friend Lexie Bo, a little whippit-pitbull dog.
Morgan McClelland
While not a guide, yet, Morgan McClelland helps out in many ways. Including giving the dogs “tune ups” when needed and training the puppies during the summer.