My Yukon Quest 2004 has ended
In the meantime, the race with the remaining 23 teams approaches Dawson in the Yukon Territory. 48 hours after my return from Alaska I still have a hard time to see my trained dogs standing around in the dog yard.
I’ve just been reading the article in the national newspaper where I’ve been answering questions about my race and the reason why I had to give up. Now it’s bugging me all over again not being able to be a part of it anymore. At the same time I’m looking out the window, gazing at the dogs that are suffering. My dogs... Young dogs...My future... then
I know my decision was right.
Already after the first 100 miles a prostate inflammation and an older knee injury have forced me to let two of my leaders behind.
From Angel Creek I went on, crossing Boulder and Rosebud Summit and passing Birch Creek to Mile 101. The several miles of icy trail before reaching Mile 101 caused the next victim. At the Dogdrop I’ve dried everything possible easing the shoulder injuries.
After a break of more then 8 hours, planned were 6 of them, it gave me a lot of troubles to get the 12 dogs out of the camp. To my surprise we made the climb to Eagle Summit, one of the main challenges, in less than an hour. The slight wind at 101 was getting really strong at the summit and with the reduced vision in the whirling snow I could see barely further than to my leaders. It was a pitch-dark night; there was no other team to make out, neither in front nor behind of us. Later on I‘ve learned from Internet reports that it has been minus 47 Celsius and 20 to 30 h/km wind at the summit.
The untypical mild weather as the first teams were crossing did change to our disadvantage, getting even worse by the much-dreaded downhill slope from the Eagle Summit. Tiger, my youngest dog in the team went head over heels what resulted in a shoulder injury, with his last strength he was fighting against running any further. However, It took a few hundred meters till I finally managed to stop the team to lift the hard limping dog into the sled.
Only with a huge effort and loosing of lots of time we’ve reached the Checkpoint Central.
After setting up the camp, plentiful feeding and taking care of the injured dogs, I was seeking advice from the veterinarian, together we decided to wait for about six to eight hours to see if the situation has improved.
After two hours of unsuccessfully trying to fall a sleep I got up again to check on the dogs. It didn’t look good at all! Two of the struggling ones were seriously dehydrated and on top of it still rejecting any food or water. Tiger still could barley stand on his legs and Sigge was in severe pain, not even able to get up at all.
It seemed, what was unthinkable a few days ago, was slowly getting real. For the second time I went to sleep. After about 6 hours of resting, an intensive health check and talking with the veterinarian I decided to quit the race.
Giving up was a fight. My own determination to accomplish something, my focusing on achieving the goal would never have stopped.
Unlike as in projects and expeditions of the past, unlike as on hiking tours or by steep-downhill-runs where I have to carry trough my own willpower in order to get at least the chance to reach the objective. Here it was not deciding what I had on my mind for months, or that it demanded a lot of time and effort of my family, my friends and my self or that it caused a lot of courage and overcoming.
Mushing is collective, it’s team sport, means consideration and adaptation, sometimes it means giving up for the sake of safety for the weak and struggling ones.
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