On a cool June day, horses and their owners gathered to test their trail savvy at the third annual Extreme Trail Challenge in Peters Creek. No one knew what the bonus challenge would be, but for twenty bucks, riders could choose to make the secret challenge their final obstacle. As they rode the course, riders had the whole day to think about what they might be up against at the end of the competition.

The event drew 28 competitors from as far away as Fairbanks. Horse and rider teams had the opportunity to test their skills in an event that has steadily grown more popular over the past three years. Sponsored by the Chugach Range Riders, the Extreme Trail Challenge is held at Bill and Diane Sullivan’s 15-acre ranch in Peters Creek. Diane is the event coordinator while Bill thinks of ways to make the course more challenging.

The couple was in Oregon with their horses in 2006 and just happened upon the Northwest Mountain Trail Championships. On a whim, Bill decided to enter the competition as a rookie. In the two day event – to the astonishment of professional cowboys and horse trainers from around the country – Bill, on his horse, Jake, won the championship hands down.

The event was so much fun, the Sullivans decided to create a similar competition for Alaska riders. The obstacles along the course test the skills of the rider and the bravery of the horse. Horses were asked to traverse a bridge, climb onto a rock, jump barrels, drag a log, and undertake a variety of other challenges. More than a few horses snorted and danced at the silhouette cutouts of bears on the trail.

Perhaps the most challenging of all was a deep trench that horse and rider teams were asked to ride through. At least 10 feet deep and 50 feet long, this obstacle was – for some horses – akin to entering the dragon’s lair.

The Extreme Trail Challenge is not just an obstacle course. It reflects the relationship between horse and rider. Horses are willing to try things that are unfamiliar and even frightening when they trust and have confidence in their rider.

“It’s the riders and their sense of adventure that make this event,” said Diane Sullivan, who is a certified John Lyons trainer. “Hopefully they come away having learned something from it.”

At the end of the competition, riders who signed up were given the chance to try the bonus challenge. At that point, Bill brought out “General Westmoreland” the llama. This was a creature many horses had never seen before. While horse and rider teams side-passed around the pen, the cranky llama pinned its ears and spit on any horse that came too close. Most horses managed the obstacle well; but for others, “Wes” was just a bit too much to handle.

In the end, the Extreme Trail Challenge offered a day to revel in the presence of horses and the people who love them.

Winners of the novice division were 1^st Emily Brassard; 2^nd Karol Kolehmainen; 3^rd Christine Lorenzen. Winners of the open division were 1^st Deb Moore; 2^nd Terri Mielke; 3^rd Laurie Knuutila and her horse also won the bonus challenge.

April is that tantalizing month when the days grow longer and the sun’s warmth starts seeping into our bones again. The scent of dirt sends gardeners scurrying for potting soil and seeds. Bits of green grass start pushing their way through the thawing ground. The silence of winter is giving way to the trickle of melting snow. It is a time of renewal and promise.

But let’s face it. Break-up is messy. Our family first arrived in Alaska during break-up and our realtor apologized.

“It’s the ugliest time of year,” he said.

We had never seen a place more beautiful. If this was what Alaskans considered ugly, we were in for a treat. Twenty-five years later I still can’t think of a place more inspiring; but I do have a better understanding of what the man meant about break-up.

Does anyone in April have a clean car? The kids come inside with sopping socks and the dog tracks in enough mud to plant those newly purchased seeds. The slant of sunlight through the windows accentuates every speck of dirt we missed over the winter months. But who wants to see sunlight through a window – we’re all ready to feel it our faces.

One bright afternoon I invited my grandson for an outing to hunt for signs of spring. At age four, he has experienced less than a handful of this season of awakening. So I asked him what kinds of things happen in the spring time. He thought a moment.

“The grass turns green,” he said. “And the bears come out of their caves.”

We could probably find some green grass somewhere – but decided against looking for bears. Here then, are some things we found on our hunt. Green grass (as promised) – being munched by a horse. Lots of puddles. Dogs hanging out car windows. Mud. A barista in short sleeves. Snow. People wearing rain boots. A bug.

Soon we’ll be packing away our skis and digging out hiking boots and backpacks. Meanwhile, Alaskans will smile a little broader, breathe a little deeper, and enjoy this muddy, messy, marvelous season of spring.

Camp Clean

Camp clothes holds a lot of dirt.

When I was at hunting camp in the Brooks Range last fall, I came to a new appreciation of a few modern conveniences. While I wouldn’t trade anything for that time in the back country, I did make note of the difference between clean and “camp clean.”

One day I counted the number of steps it took to do a few water-related chores like take a shower, do dishes, and wash clothes. The routine went something like this:

1)      Check water supply in the camp kitchen. The 55-gallon water drum is nearly empty, so it’s time to fill it up.

2)      Hike a hundred or so yards down to the small water pump on the bank of the river. The pump, attached to a hose, will pump water back up to the cook shack. It beats hauling buckets but I discover the pump is nearly out of gas.

3)      Get gasoline from the container back at camp. Oops. Gas can is empty.

4)      Dig into metal drums to resupply gas can. Split the contents of one can into two containers so it’s easier to carry.

5)      Take gas can to river, carefully fill pump and turn it on. The pump is persnickety. It likes to randomly turn itself off. Wait to make sure it cooperates.

6)      Return gas can to container back at camp.  Pump randomly turns off. Return and restart pump.

7)      Collect clothes, soap, and a bucket and take to cook shack. Go back to river and turn off pump. (Okay, almost set.)

8)      I’m lucky, because the cook shack has an on-demand hot water heater which means I don’t have to boil water. (The heater is fueled by propane, another resource to carefully conserve.)

9)      Take shower. Temperature is mistakenly set at “scald.” Shower lasts 57 seconds. Soap removed from eyes but not from hair. (Sigh.)

10)  Fill bucket with water and wash clothes 1-2 pieces at a time. AMAZING how much dirt a single item of clothing can hold! Wring out by hand.

11)  Hang clothes up to dry on outside clothesline.

12)  Wind changes direction and smoke from the small garbage fire wafts over to drying clothes. Bring clothes inside the cook shack to dry.

13)  Note to Self: No more burning on laundry day!

14)   Do dishes.

15)  Fill 55 gallon water drum to top again. (Repeat steps 5-7).

16)  Make a pot of coffee and take note of time. Four hours since starting chores.

17)   Sing praises to pioneer women over time that did all of this using wood or coal as fuel.

This morning before leaving the house, I threw a load of clothes in the washing machine and pushed a button. In less than an hour, I would have clean clothes to throw into an electric dryer. Meanwhile, I turned the lights off, jumped in the car, and tootled off to work. Easy.

Yet what I did not do this morning was stand on the steps of the cook shack and gaze at the face of a moody mountain behind camp. I did not take note of the fog lifting as the sun rose over the river. And I didn’t pay much attention to the cool air in my lungs or the hint of seasons on the verge of change.

Hard to say, some days, which is the better world. I’m grateful to experience the best of both. As the days grow longer, the longing grows stronger to get out into the backcountry again. I like to be clean as much as the next person – but “camp clean” has its own soulful appeal.

A recent article in the Fairbanks Daily Newsminer describes how various animals survive Alaska’s cold weather. “Whether it’s a chickadee that weighs less than half an ounce or a moose that weighs 1,200 pounds, animals have different ways of coping with cold temperatures during Alaska’s long, bitter winter,” wrote reporter Tim Mowrey.

Moose and caribou, for example, have hollow hair and their metabolism can drop by 25 percent in cold weather. Ptarmigan have feathers on their feet that act like snow shoes – and they snuggle together under blankets of snow to stay warm. Everyone eats more. (Sound familiar?)

What friends from outside Alaska want to know, however, is how domesticated critters – like people – get along in the dark and cold. I thought about this during a recent ski at the Eagle River Nature Center.

It might have been more reasonable to stay home that day and snuggle with a book next to the fireplace.  The world was encased in white. After weeks of cold temperatures and no wind, hoarfrost had begun to form on already snow-laden trees. When I arrived at the parking lot, the thermometer read minus 6 degrees. I pulled my scarf a little tighter knowing the temperature would drop even further as I skied downhill toward the river.

Frost formed on my eyelashes as I moved along the trail. My dog bounded ahead with enthusiasm. Looking up, I saw a father and his six-year-old son skiing toward me and we stopped to chat. Dad and the family were out camping at a nearby cabin. The rosy smile of the little boy told the whole story. This was an adventure!  Further down the trail a woman with a baby on her back and her two companions were snow shoeing along the river. Later on, I came across a couple walking their three dogs. All of these people were undaunted by the cold. The reward of their decision to be outdoors could be seen on each of their faces. “What a beautiful day!” one of them called out as we passed on the trail.

On another cold outing at Eklutna Lake, the scene resembled a crystal fairy tale.  A rocking-chair moon hung over Twin Peaks and down below the world was nothing short of magical.

There is a deep stillness that accompanies the cold, one that infuses the spirit with a sense of calm. But the cold also demands action. You have to move to stay warm, and therein lies the crisp paradox that becomes an antidote to the winter doldrums.

A warm hearth is a fine place to pass a winter cold snap. But a winter trail, a pair of skis, and a happy companion make winter a time to enjoy, not just endure.