Fastest husky in the Yukon Quest
It is nothing short of a miracle but we have two snowmachines running. They are going forward and backwards and doing all the things you would expect of them. Another breakdown could be just around the corner so we are making the most of it.
We got the missing adjustment pins for our Widetrak so have been driving at top speed and doing crazy circles in the deep snow to test it.
The sun is shining, the trails are slick and we’ve been having a blast. We’ve been to town, we’ve visited friends we’ve wanted to get to all winter and I’ve been racing up and down the creek just for the hell of it.
The speedo is broken on our Polaris 340, Piccolo, but Neil clocked me shifting ass at 45mph on the way back from town.
Anyone remember the kids TV show The Banana Splits, whizzing around in buggies to that insanely joyous theme tune?
If you don't remember, click here...
That’s us! I just want to sing out “Tra la laa, la-la la laa! Everything is working!”
It’s an exciting time for everyone on the river, and not just because there are two English fuckwits roaring around. The Yukon Quest dogsled race is just finishing (see footnote 1).
It is the event of the year for communities here. We’ve volunteered previously at the checkpoint in Eagle, Alaska, but we are a bit too far from town now to help.
It was great fun being involved and we met some astounding people. I don’t miss the all-night 8 hour shift, nor some of the mushers who whinge like old ladies about any inconvenience along the way (“the snow’s too deep, too soft, the trail’s not straight, it’s humpy, it’s blown in, there are cracks, not enough stakes…”) We’ve heard it all. Wilderness race- my ass!
The teams, about 20 in total, go right past our yard, down the river and all the way to Fairbanks, Alaska this week. They pad silently by so we only noticed a few of them. One evening I looked out and saw a team slip past in the dark. The musher’s headlamp now and then revealing shifting white dogs, like ghosts from a time long gone.
I miss running dogs. Our valiant lonesome husky, Homer, pulls the sled with all his might, but it’s not quite like flying along, sled runners whisking the snow, a team of happy dogs bobbing in front of you.
Alaskans can more easily afford to run dogs as they are allowed to subsistence fish salmon to feed the teams. Here in Canada, they are not, so the Skidoo iron dog predominates. It’s good for salmon stocks but not for the soul.
We haven’t seen anyone on the trail all winter so it’s quite unsettling to encounter “other traffic” whilst out and about.
We met a racer who’d stopped snack his dogs with salmon chunks. Homer thought he might be due a snack too and sat expectantly in the middle of the team until I noticed and yanked him out.
Racing huskies have been bred smaller over the years. It makes them faster, apparently, though less able to deal with cold and deep snow (which you’d think might be a drawback for a 1000 mile subarctic wilderness race).
These guys were the size of guinea pigs compared to our dog, a traditional trap line-type husky. He looked like he could have eaten them as well as their salmon snacks. Bless him, he lumbered off after the team as they shot away, head down, ears back as if to race all the way to Fairbanks and beat them to it!
In fact, the very next day, he could have. Homer was the fastest husky on the Yukon Quest trail for a brief but thrilling couple of hours.
Unfortunately, he was shut in a plywood box, strapped to a sled towed by a snowmachine and driven like the clappers by Neil.
We decided to test out Homer’s travel box on our trip to Forty Mile. He spent the entire outward journey trying to eat his way out.
He gave up on the way back and contented himself with stuffing his nose through the hole he’d chewed so the spindrift iced his conk like a Christmas cake.
Neil and I perfected a technique to get him in. I yank on a ratchet strap threaded through his collar at the front, and Neil shoves from the back. He doesn’t like it but I’ve regularly boarded trains in the London rush hour in a less dignified manner so he’ll have to put up with it.
Our weirdest encounter was Michal. On our lonely early morning trip to town, to my utter amazement, I spotted someone walking down the trail towards us, absolutely in the middle of nowhere.
He told us was walking the Yukon Quest Trail, following the dog teams to raise money for a Polish charity for homeless dogs. He wasn’t in great shape. He had a frost-bitten nose and was terribly thin. We told him to head to our place and we’d see him when we got back. (We did offer him a lift, but I think that would have somewhat destroyed the point of his walking expedition.)
Thank God he was still alive and almost at ours when we drove back, though I truly expected to spot him hypothermic and floundering in the snow around every bend.
What a lovely chap. We fed him as much as we could and a good night’s sleep lifted his spirits considerably. He was by far the most grateful person that has ever received our awful cooking, so that lifted our spirits too.
Michal nearly lost all his fingers and some of his toes to frost bite on the Yukon, south of here, a few years ago whilst running the Yukon Arctic Ultra race along the Quest trail . He came back, this time for charity. Michal's facebook page, rundog
He said “It is so lonely here. I have seen nothing since Dawson. All day, for miles. No people, no animals, nothing.” Well, yes, quite. And plenty more of that to go.
His hands are very fragile now so he must take great care of them. We waved him off down the trail the next day. I hope he makes it.
Our TV show, Escape to the Wild, was broadcast last week on Channel 4 in Britain Escape to the Wild. We’d like to thank everyone who sent lovely comments about it.
A lot of people said I was “really beautiful”, “absolutely stunning.”
Neil thinks they may have meant the scenery but it’s drab and brown here in September, so I’m sure they meant me.
We’ve been asked about our experience of filming. Read our blog written just after filming here. I won’t destroy the magic by saying much about it. No one needs to know that Neil drinks a bottle of gin before he gets out of bed or that I demanded a 40 minute video call with a makeup artist in London before I’d appear on camera each day.
I’m sure I won’t be giving away any secrets if I tell you that the presenter, Jimmy Doherty, doesn’t really exist. He was created using CGI by the film’s makers, Optomen, after some consultation with us. Neil said we needed someone smart to present the film with extensive knowledge of biology, zoology, farming, hunting, foraging etc. etc. I said, no this is television. He just needs to be shag-able.
I think Optomen were able to blend both our ideas really well when they created Jimmy. He knows exactly what he’s talking about and is very easy on the eye.
I only worked with special effects a couple of times in my career as an actor so it was a bit odd (see footnote 2).
They stood a broom in front of us and said, pretend that’s Jimmy, whilst the assistant director read the lines.
We haven’t been able to watch the show yet, but I think it came off OK.
We have more pressing concerns, global warming and ice cream. We are planning a two hundred mile round trip to visit friends and were hoping to take them some delicious ice cream from the store in town.
Temperatures shot from -25 to +5C in two days. It is too hot to carry ice cream home from town. It is February in the subarctic. This is fucking insane.
Still good news for Mike’s fingers and nose, and we are wishing him all the best.
Footnote 1 Matt Hall of Smokin Ace Kennels won the race. He is a lovely guy and we are delighted for him.
Footnote 2. My brush with special effects in another life.
Fables of Forgotten Things by extremely cool director, Toby Meakins.
The sun is shining, the trails are slick and we’ve been having a blast. We’ve been to town, we’ve visited friends we’ve wanted to get to all winter and I’ve been racing up and down the creek just for the hell of it.
 |
| My Valentine's present. New ear defenders. He's so thoughtful |
Anyone remember the kids TV show The Banana Splits, whizzing around in buggies to that insanely joyous theme tune?
If you don't remember, click here...
That’s us! I just want to sing out “Tra la laa, la-la la laa! Everything is working!”
It’s an exciting time for everyone on the river, and not just because there are two English fuckwits roaring around. The Yukon Quest dogsled race is just finishing (see footnote 1).
It is the event of the year for communities here. We’ve volunteered previously at the checkpoint in Eagle, Alaska, but we are a bit too far from town now to help.
 |
| Racer, Hugh Neff, passing our place |
The teams, about 20 in total, go right past our yard, down the river and all the way to Fairbanks, Alaska this week. They pad silently by so we only noticed a few of them. One evening I looked out and saw a team slip past in the dark. The musher’s headlamp now and then revealing shifting white dogs, like ghosts from a time long gone.
 |
| Mist and hoar frost at our place |
Alaskans can more easily afford to run dogs as they are allowed to subsistence fish salmon to feed the teams. Here in Canada, they are not, so the Skidoo iron dog predominates. It’s good for salmon stocks but not for the soul.
We met a racer who’d stopped snack his dogs with salmon chunks. Homer thought he might be due a snack too and sat expectantly in the middle of the team until I noticed and yanked him out.
Racing huskies have been bred smaller over the years. It makes them faster, apparently, though less able to deal with cold and deep snow (which you’d think might be a drawback for a 1000 mile subarctic wilderness race).
These guys were the size of guinea pigs compared to our dog, a traditional trap line-type husky. He looked like he could have eaten them as well as their salmon snacks. Bless him, he lumbered off after the team as they shot away, head down, ears back as if to race all the way to Fairbanks and beat them to it!
In fact, the very next day, he could have. Homer was the fastest husky on the Yukon Quest trail for a brief but thrilling couple of hours.
Unfortunately, he was shut in a plywood box, strapped to a sled towed by a snowmachine and driven like the clappers by Neil.
We decided to test out Homer’s travel box on our trip to Forty Mile. He spent the entire outward journey trying to eat his way out.
He gave up on the way back and contented himself with stuffing his nose through the hole he’d chewed so the spindrift iced his conk like a Christmas cake.
 |
| Pit stop, on a tight leash just in case |
Our weirdest encounter was Michal. On our lonely early morning trip to town, to my utter amazement, I spotted someone walking down the trail towards us, absolutely in the middle of nowhere.
He told us was walking the Yukon Quest Trail, following the dog teams to raise money for a Polish charity for homeless dogs. He wasn’t in great shape. He had a frost-bitten nose and was terribly thin. We told him to head to our place and we’d see him when we got back. (We did offer him a lift, but I think that would have somewhat destroyed the point of his walking expedition.)
 |
| Cracks opening up on the trail as the river ice sinks |
What a lovely chap. We fed him as much as we could and a good night’s sleep lifted his spirits considerably. He was by far the most grateful person that has ever received our awful cooking, so that lifted our spirits too.
Michal nearly lost all his fingers and some of his toes to frost bite on the Yukon, south of here, a few years ago whilst running the Yukon Arctic Ultra race along the Quest trail . He came back, this time for charity. Michal's facebook page, rundog
He said “It is so lonely here. I have seen nothing since Dawson. All day, for miles. No people, no animals, nothing.” Well, yes, quite. And plenty more of that to go.
His hands are very fragile now so he must take great care of them. We waved him off down the trail the next day. I hope he makes it.
 |
| Michal leaving our yard |
A lot of people said I was “really beautiful”, “absolutely stunning.”
Neil thinks they may have meant the scenery but it’s drab and brown here in September, so I’m sure they meant me.
We’ve been asked about our experience of filming. Read our blog written just after filming here. I won’t destroy the magic by saying much about it. No one needs to know that Neil drinks a bottle of gin before he gets out of bed or that I demanded a 40 minute video call with a makeup artist in London before I’d appear on camera each day.
I’m sure I won’t be giving away any secrets if I tell you that the presenter, Jimmy Doherty, doesn’t really exist. He was created using CGI by the film’s makers, Optomen, after some consultation with us. Neil said we needed someone smart to present the film with extensive knowledge of biology, zoology, farming, hunting, foraging etc. etc. I said, no this is television. He just needs to be shag-able.
I think Optomen were able to blend both our ideas really well when they created Jimmy. He knows exactly what he’s talking about and is very easy on the eye.
I only worked with special effects a couple of times in my career as an actor so it was a bit odd (see footnote 2).
They stood a broom in front of us and said, pretend that’s Jimmy, whilst the assistant director read the lines.
We haven’t been able to watch the show yet, but I think it came off OK.
We have more pressing concerns, global warming and ice cream. We are planning a two hundred mile round trip to visit friends and were hoping to take them some delicious ice cream from the store in town.
 |
| Dawson from across river. No proper ice bridge this year so we had to cross at the Klondike |
 |
| Too warm. Snow machining in a light sweater (and enormous mitts). Crazy. |
Footnote 1 Matt Hall of Smokin Ace Kennels won the race. He is a lovely guy and we are delighted for him.
Footnote 2. My brush with special effects in another life.
Fables of Forgotten Things by extremely cool director, Toby Meakins.
 |
| “Look at me! I’m a TV star and the fastest dog in the Yukon Quest!” |
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