Nicolas Petit arrived 5:36am with 16 dogs to Nikolai.  After having been pummeled on the trail, banged his knees,  watched his $2000 sled trashed by an unmerciful trail, and leaped over tundra tussocks standing to his waist, Nicolas was in the mood for a focused 15 minute rant about the difficult and obstinate trail.  He advised some of his musher friends, including Jim Lanier (age 74) to hang up this race and wait for a better year.  Kelly Maixner, who stopped in Rohn for a 24 hour mandatory, should just stay in Rohn rather than venture on the trail with a fiery, well-rested dog team. (Maixner’s sled has a dog hauler box on the sled behind the musher, adding length and weight.)

He was having fun with the image of catastrophe, in a satirical way, but was also genuinely irritated and frustrated with the mushing through the Dalzell and across the Nikolai Burn.  I enjoyed talking with him and believe him when he said no human would ever intentionally or knowingly mush dogs over he previous day’s trail.  Incredibly, the dogs had fun and Nicolas plans to continue with his sixteen dogs.  “We train all the time on bare ground in the fall time, but we use a four wheeler.  This time we were mushing on a four wheeler trail without a fourwheeler.”

He was quick to point out that the trail was good for DOGS, just not humans.  With solid footing, the dogs were just as they were in the fall time training before the snow falls.  “Oh  yeah, the dogs were having lots of fun.  They love it because it’s not boring.  The trail is changing all the time.”

Nicolas is tall, slim, and very athletic.  My friend Dean Osmar, 1984 champ, calls him one of the best drivers he’s known, having watched him work his team through parking lots like a race car driver.  His leaders Dirtbag (cream in photo) and Raptor (brown next to Dirtbag) are flawless.  In addition, Nicholas told me that he trains his dogs to a set of rules.  We trot while traveling and no one is allowed to run downhill (prevents injury to dogs and saves the musher.)  If someone wants to run, they can do it on the hills.  To train a team like this takes time and consistency, for example braking on hills to keep dogs at a trot and insisting the team travels at a trot   (no out of control surges of loping allowed.)  Over a period of time, a lot of time, you have a well- mannered team.

For those mushers who haven’t taken the time to make the rules of the trail a habit, Nicolas predicts big problems.  “I can talk my dogs through bad spots”,  but some mushers will be out of control, especially on the descents.

Petit walked me through his team.  “Look how much weight I have on  these dogs.  Just two males in the swing are t’hin, but they always eat.”  He has a lot of confidence in the power of his team.  Petit told me that his dogs have been months and not seen a regular dog house.  They sometimes sleep on the dog truck, but usually they are on the trail in training.   “Ten miles an hour, that’s all I let them travel.  Always at a trot.  I want the power and the power is the speed.”   He has had very good travel times, relevant to the other competitors, in this years race.

Further, he explained why his trailer sled had a large air kennel.  He fills it with some gear, but there is plenty of room to haul a dog.  “If one doesn’t eat very good, I put them in the kennel and give them a ride.  With a little rest he’ll start eating again.”   I watched him feed his team a soup of meat and commercial kibble and they all devoured the offering.  Shortly after he went up the line handing each dog a large chicken thigh.  He made a lob pass to most, who caught the thigh in mid air.

Note a photo to the front of the  Petit sled, a honor to his pet dog that died last summer— kind of like a mermaid on the prow of a ship.   “The stuffed dog looks a lot like my pet.”  Note helmet on stuffed dog as an added element of realism.

Petit’s broken sled

While talking to Nicolas—who is also eating sausage, eggs, and pancakes from the cafeteria—our cameraman Terry Burge, a veteran of many Iditarods, reports the arrival of Aliy, King, Sonny Lindner, Hugh Neff, et al.  Amongst the group, Aaron Burmeister arrives with a badly twisted knee.  I hope Aaron doesn’t have to scratch because his team is smoking.  The rest in the front knot, aside from sore muscles, seems to have survived in good shape.  Aliy, et al are tired and sore, but all seem in  human form.

 I hear Hugh Neff as he comes into the cafeteria to join Petit.  “It was constant.  It never stopped.  I had to pay attention every second.” —a contrast to the times when mushing can be considered very contemplative, actually boring, for miles and miles of uneventful trotting.  

Buser made it very clear he was stopping for a mandatory 24 hour break, but Petit emphatically said he was continuing and maybe for a long way, indicating that Cripple or beyond was on his game plan.   Many mushers, as a matter of statement of fact, believe it’s easier to make big gains and to make big moves in the latter half of the race than in the first.  Seavey and Seavey, for example, are in the camp that hide anonymously in the pack in the first few days of racing and then make bold moves later on.  Both viewpoints seem reasonable.  Now we can watch strategies unfold and see how Martin Buser, who worked hard on the first day to gain advantage, leverages his massive lead on the Iditarod Pack.

Good trail ahead, the technical stuff is done, snow cover increasing–happy times on the forecast.