This is another story from the Don Bowers 200.

Isn't it the truth that every race ends up delivering a million new stories! Absolute truth.

The way home, as I have mentioned, was a fog of sleep deprived mistakes. The biggest being my decision to chuck my carefully made race plan and push for a single, 100 mile, run back to the finish. Okay, no sense going into how stupid that was anymore than I already have but some good things did come out of it.

A key one is a new found sense of confidence in my winter wood skills. As I have mentioned, I spent a miserable few hours trying to bend the dogs will to mine. Mostly that time was spent begging and pleading to the dogs to keep moving forward but a good chunk of it was also spent at the front of the team pulling them along. Well, really, it was spent in the middle of the team pulling along the back 6 who were actively pulling backwards against the lines so that the front 5, who wanted to keep going didn't have to drag them along. It was hard work!

In the end, once I decided the dogs were going to win the battle, and finally pulled over for a short rest, I was soaking wet. Not a problem. Well, usually not a problem, because I always make it a point to bring a complete set of gear to change into for just this kind of situation. But not this time! All I had with me was my spare parka and the mandatory sleeping bag. Dam!

And, while most the race had been run in warm weather, a small cold front was rolling through and the temps had dropped to near zero, or perhaps even a bit below. Double dam! I mean, zero isn't that cold but when it had been 35 all day it sure felt cold!

And that's when my sleep deprived brain started making some good decisions after a 24 hours hiatus.

The dogs were crashed out, sleeping soundly, comfy in their jackets.

Putting those on first thing after we stopped was the first good decision I made after stopping. Next was taking the time to rub them all down, give them a snack, happy talk them, and generally act like this was a planned stop that was all my decision and none of theirs. After all, in a few hours we were going to have to get going again and if they weren't happy that wasn't going to happen. They had already proven that they had the ultimate say in whether we went forward or not.

Next, I got a fire going by digging down into the snow to make a deep pit, putting down a layer of spruce boughs and thick wood to keep the coals off the snow, and using one of my few remaining bottles of “heat” to quickly light a pile of kindling.

While the fire got going I kept active so I wouldn't catch a chill with my wet clothes still on. I piled up a bunch of firewood. Actually, a pretty big chore since all I had was a small ax and no saw to cut through the the standing-dead spruce trees.

I took a break in the middle of my wood chores to build a stout willow frame over the fire pit to dry my gear on. Then I stripped off the wet gear, putting on my parka over bare skin, and began drying my inner layers on my fancy willow rack. Then I got back to chopping wood, being really careful now not to overheat and sweat. I didn't want to get my parka, the only dry gear I had, wet.

By the time I got the wood all cut my inner layers were dry and I slipped them on under my parka, which was a huge relief. Next, I got my soaking wet one-piece snowsuit on the rack and began to dry that. Now that's a big, heavy, insulated piece of clothing and it was really wet, so it was going to take time to dry.

Perfect! I was exhausted anyway and while it was drying I pulled out my sleeping bag and lay down next to the fire for a few winks. Not as peaceful as you might think since the way the drying rack was setup over the fire, and with my big snowsuit over the top of it, the fire was pumping smoke out the sides right at me. But, at least I was dry and relatively warm!

I slept hard for two hours but woke up freezing. Chilled to the bone. The fire had pretty much gone out but my snowsuit was dry. Once I was awake, I immediately put it on, chattering the whole time.

A few wind sprints up and down the trail took care of that!

I was hungry and tired still, but okay, if not exactly comfortable. It was time to get the dogs up and see how they felt. What they were going to do after this little rest was a big question and I wasn't at all sure they would feel like running yet.

Turns out my worries about them were for nothing and after just a few minutes of loosening up they turned on the heat and we flew the last forty miles to the finish- clocking our fastest average speed of any stage in the race!

It was a great way to finish and the fact that I was able to make a forced camp, dry gear, and get the dogs moving again without any real problems fills me with confidence that whatever happens, if I just keep my calm and stay focused, I can deal with whatever comes up out on the trail.

And, I guess, that's true of any problem, for anyone, in life.