WINTER LIFESTYLE: Mushing through the Slush
By Karen Waeschle / Photos by Carter Photographics
Dogs of varying size, shape and color, yapping with excitement, strain against their harnesses. The bundled musher runs throughout the line of dogs, whispering words of encouragement into each dog’s ear and nuzzling their muzzles. With a loud “Hike!” the team charges ahead, puffs of steam rising with every breath, snow flying up behind them, their eyes intently focused on the trail ahead of them, before quickly disappearing down the trail.
 Owning a Dog Mushing Business is Never Easy
Jeff and Tracie Martin, who own Dog Sled Rides of Winter Park and Mountain Dawg Outfitters Pet Supply, love dog mushing both as a business and a lifestyle. Besides providing them with an income, their 83 dogs give them unconditional love and endless entertainment.
But the level of responsibility needed to train and care for the dogs can be overwhelming. The Martins’ dogs woof down 80 pounds of food a day in the winter and require them to be home 365 days a year. But according to Tracie, the hardest part about the job is losing one of the dogs.
The dogs, mostly Alaskan Huskies with a few Siberians, break out into a cacophony of barking and howling, as if to say, “Pick me! Pick me!” when the tourists appear in the staging area. The four drivers consult a dog rotation spread sheet pinned to a tree, then unclip the dogs from the staging line and hook them to the sled line. Jeff stands on the runners and leans over to pull up the anchor brake, and the sled bolts from 0 to 25 mph in an instant.
In one-minute intervals, the other three sleds charge onto the trail and disappear quickly into the trees. After the last sled leaves, the remaining 50 dogs lift their heads to the sky and howl together for 15 seconds. Their mourning cry done, they lie down for a nap until the sleds return.
 Retirement Yields More Dog Time
When Jim Keesy, a retired musher in his mid-80s, launched himself into dog sled racing in his retirement, he quickly discovered how time-consuming yet rewarding this demanding hobby is.
“The essence of mushing is the relationship between the driver and the lead dog,” states Keesy, “and I was blessed with the best lead dog, Feather, who was always a step ahead of my command. She saved my life on numerous occasions.”
Inspired by Jack London novels, Keesy fell in love with the sport as a child when he hooked up his mutt, Spunky, to a flexible flyer and tore around the streets of suburban Philadelphia. Later in life, he and his wife, Helen, discovered the snowy Fraser Valley, where they purchased a home site in Hamilton Creek in 1959. In 1992, they retired in Fraser, and Jim plunged headlong into mushing.
Retirement for the Keesys did not mean golf, quiet walks and reading. Instead, it meant getting up early to feed, water and exercise eight dogs. During the summer, Jim hooked up the dogs to a three-wheel rig and headed up to Meadow Creek Reservoir; in the winter, he loaded up the dogs into his truck and trained in the Fraser Experimental Forest or Cabin Creek.
At 65 years of age, Jim entered his first race – a four-dog sprint race. “I arrived late and had to park a long way away from the starting line so I started a bit after the clock had started. I was able to pass several teams and would have finished 5th out of 30 teams if I had started on time. The other mushers were wondering who this old, unorganized speedster was. I never did that well again!”
 Hooked on Mushing One Dog at a Time
Another valley dog musher, Brad Mulqueen, owner of Carlos and Maria’s Mexican Restaurant in Winter Park, was quickly drawn to the sport after volunteering at one of the Grand County races in 1990. He acquired his first husky mix dog and started skijoring (being pulled on Nordic skis while attached to a dog).
Soon after, he bought another dog, which led to another dog. For a surprise Christmas present in 1992, his family gave him a dog sled and by the end of the winter, he owned six dogs and regularly competed in the Colorado dog sled racing circuit. Some new neighbors in Granby complained about the dogs, so he sold his house, bought 40 acres outside of Hot Sulphur Springs, and before he knew it, he owned 12 dogs.
“The dogs just love to run, but they need to be trained in a gradual and logical manner. I usually let my dogs relax and run around in a two-acre fenced pen during the summer, but come October, the serious training begins. The dogs pull an ATV and I slowly increase the distance.”
“Mushing is an extreme hobby,” Mulqueen muses, “and now that many of my dogs are past their prime, and I am in my twilight years of racing, the dogs have become my pets."
The Love of Dog Mushing
Grand County mushers smile when speaking of their dogs, and if encouraged, will talk tenderly about each dog’s unique mannerisms and goofball tendencies. While they acknowledge the physical demands, the amount of time and dedication, and the financial costs of dog mushing, they feel that the love and adventures they have shared with their dogs more than makes up for it. They wouldn’t trade their lifestyle for any other.
Follow the links below for more articles within the Winter Lifestyle section.
READ MORE STORIES FROM THE WINTER LIFESTYLE SECTION:
• Mushing Through The Slush: Grand County Mushers
• Bob Holme: From Olympic Nordic Jumper to Terrain Park Guru
• Solve Your Ski Boot Problems Once and For All: One of the premier boot fitters in the world
• Sports & Wellness: All About Concussions & Kids and Sports
• Grand Lake Touring Center: In the Shadow of Rocky Mountain National Park
• 2009 Feature Articles |
