A Funny Thing Happened

After I Left The Dog Yard

Welcome to our mushers’ Hall of Hilarity! Below you’ll find a collection of stories straight from the dog yard—tales of triumph, chaos, and the occasional “oops” moment that proves even the best mushers have days that don’t go exactly as planned. From good laughs to not-so-good blunders and those “well, at least I learned something” moments, these stories remind us all that sometimes the journey is just as funny as the finish line.

For our Junior Mushers, these tales are more than just entertainment—they’re a treasure trove of lessons from the more experienced. By reading about the missteps and mishaps of seasoned mushers, beginners can pick up tips, avoid common mistakes, and gain the confidence to tackle the trail with their own team. Buckle up… it’s going to be a bumpy, giggle-filled, and educational ride!

Chloe Dryke

From Sled Bag to Start Line

My dad had sled dogs back in the 80s and 90s, and one of my earliest memories is being in the sled bag and peeking out to watch the team run. I remember snow kicking up and listening to the dogs breath as they ran along. We would stop and have hot cocoa and give the dogs a snack and head back for home. Many years after our last sled dog passed, my dad decided to get a few dogs as a hobby, and I ended up diving headfirst into the sport. One moonlit run on our property had me hooked, and I started training dogs after work and on the weekends to get prepped for racing. My first race was in 2023 at the Wolf Track Classic in Ely.

Chloe Dryke

Moonlit Leap to the Runners

One frigid night in the winter of ‘22-‘23 we set out for a sled run on the state snowmobile trail. A heavy dumping of snow had left trees slung low over the trail, causing the need for trimming and removal. The machine they used had left great big tracks in the snow, just wide enough for the dogs to run through and we went off down the trail, followed by my dad on a snowmobile for any assistance needed *just in case*. When turning the team around on a logging road to head back for home, I stepped off the sled onto the side of the trail and sunk into waist deep snow. The enthusiastic team took off for home, leaving us behind with the snowmobile. In the darkness we could make out the reflective stripes on the sled bag, racing off and cresting hills ahead. We zoomed off in their direction to catch up and head them off. Instead of staying on the snow machine to get ahead of the team and slow them, I launched myself off the back of the moving vehicle and onto the moving sled in a wild action movie leap, effectively stopping the team and getting set to make it the rest of the way home. This will forever play like a video in my mind ab never fails to make me laugh. NEVER let go of the sled!!

Taylor Squires

PLEASE STOP! PLEASE GEE!

One time, I decided to go on a run with some friends. I had never run this particular trail myself, but one of my two dogs, Ezio, had done it before with a friend. It was a night run, but no big deal—I had my headlamp charged and my trusted dogs ready to go.

We got to the trailhead and started out, but it quickly became obvious that my little Siberian Huskies couldn’t keep up with the group. We began to fall behind, so I sent a quick text telling everyone to go ahead and that I’d catch up. While I was doing that, my dogs suddenly ripped the scooter right out from under me.

I SCREAMED, “PLEASE STOP!!” They did not stop.

My scooter bounced away down the trail, lights flashing like a mini rave. Then, suddenly, the lights stopped. In the distance, I could just make out my dog Zelda looking back at me like, “Would ya hurry up already?” I sprinted to them, grabbed the scooter, and—thankfully—everything seemed okay. Or so I thought. While the dogs had been dragging the scooter, they broke the arm that keeps the gangline away from the front wheel. No worries, I figured—I’d just ride the brakes. We started moving again when one of my dogs abruptly stopped to potty. I braked, but not fast enough. In slow motion, I felt the scooter lift behind me. I was launched over the handlebars. My life flashed before my eyes. Somehow, I landed in a roll, my helmet protected my head, and I lay there gasping for air. I was okay.

At this point, we were halfway through the trail, so I figured I just needed to finish the second half. Right as I thought we were past the worst of it, all three of my bike lights went out at once. Complete darkness. Broken scooter. No problem—don’t panic. We were only about a mile from the trailhead. Then I realized we were speeding downhill… and I had burned through my brake pads. I had no real way to stop the dogs. Somehow, I managed to hang on. We had one more turn to go.

I yelled to Ezio, “GEE!!” He stopped. He did not budge. I pleaded with him. “PLEASE go right. Please!!” He turned around and stared me dead in the eyes. Then he faced forward and tried to go left. I held back both dogs with everything I had and begged him again. Please go right. Please!! After much waiting and pleading, he went haw.

At that point, I couldn’t stop him. We crested a hill and started ZOOMING. There was a sharp turn at the bottom, and I was sure I was going to wipe out. Somehow, I stayed upright—but I had no idea where we were. I couldn’t see anything except the faint glow of Ezio’s white fur in the moonlight. Then we rounded another corner, and suddenly the trail felt smoother. I looked down and realized it was pavement. And then—I saw light.

Ezio had taken the correct turn and led us straight back to the parking lot. And that’s the story of how I learned to trust my dogs… and make sure all my gear is working properly.

Frank Stone

Her name was Mandy. A very long legged and agile running machine. Mandy, like all animals, was in search of something very special.

She came to our kennel due to a mishap in the kitchen of her previous home. She was in the house when her owners left for a shopping trip to town. This was when Mandy decided to begin her search for that something special thing she knew was just outside the door. So she proceeded to dig her way out. When the owners returned home to find the linoleum floor at the back door was destroyed, is when her new journey to that something special began.

We took her into our kennel after seeing something very special in her. A willingness to please and be out front of the pack. She was a natural on our skijoring team. Mandy had finally found that something special feeling. The place that gave her (and us) a fuzzy warm feeling that all is right in the world.

Some Lifelong Suggestions:
1. New environments can transform challenges into opportunities.
2. Hidden talent emerges when we’re encouraged to explore.
3. Supportive environments help potential blossom into purpose.

Frank Stone &
The Burn Barrel

3 Morals of the Story:
“Good intentions don’t always earn man-points—sometimes they just melt the hardware.”

“Every musher learns the hard way”

“In mushing, clear communication isn’t just for the dogs”

In our household, we had a tidy little system to keep things organized. Any trash or discardable items were placed in a small plastic bag and set by the door. The next person heading outside would grab the bag and toss it into the burn barrel. Simple, efficient, and nearly foolproof.

Nearly.

One day, after a particularly muddy and messy dog training run, our son came home with the ten-dog gangline—completely soaked, tangled, and thoroughly “decorated” with what the dogs had generously left behind along the trail. Not wanting to deal with it immediately, he sealed the gangline in a plastic bag and left it by the door, intending to wash it later. A little while after, I passed through the entryway and spotted that same plastic bag sitting there. Without giving it a second thought—because I’m a helpful guy and, frankly, always looking to score a few “man points”—I grabbed the bag on my way out and tossed it straight into the burn barrel.

A few days later, it was time for another training run. The dogs were ready. The sled was ready. The harnesses were ready. But the gangline? Nowhere to be found. We searched high and low: the garage, the trailer, the back of the truck. After a good deal of head-scratching and muttered frustration, my son sheepishly recalled that he might have last put the gangline in a bag… right by the door.

That’s when it hit me.

I trudged out to the burn barrel with a shovel, poked through the ashes, and sure enough—there they were. A handful of metal dog snaps, blackened and twisted, all that remained of what used to be our ten-dog gangline. It was one of those moments when all you can do is laugh—mostly to keep from crying.

David, Birdie & Jordi Burge

Riding in the Sledbag

Back in 2023 we were getting ready to run our first mid distance race–the Beargrease 120. Our 4yr old daughter also decided she wanted to run the Cub Run. Logistics were a bit more daunting than they are these days but we got to the cub run with all the kids’ snowsuits and hats and mittens and dog harnesses and sled and etc. and were delighted not to have forgotten anything. Our 18 month old son was a bit hungry however, and what better place to have a snack on a windy winter day than his sister’s sledbag.
My wife Cristen rode behind Birdie on the sled for the race, and in the midst of miscommunication (or something like that), I (Dad) didn’t take Jordi out of the sled. He had fallen asleep nibbling on his cookie and before anyone knew it he was along for the ride! Birdie got 3rd place in the quarter mile, so I guess the dogs didn’t mind too much 🙂

Melissa Mendelson

Oh Kestrel, why you stopping’ the team!

I had been dealing with a dog, Kestrel, who liked to stop suddenly and anchor down to poop on the run instead of just slowing down like the rest of the dogs. Since he was one of my lead dogs, this often resulted in tangles when he stopped faster than I could notice and stop the rest of the team from bunching over him. Well, during one training run last year, Kestrel had been demoted to wheel position (the position closest to the sled) because I thought, surely, he couldn’t stop the team and cause tangles from there.
We were training with the ATV, and we were at our furthest point away from my house. All of a sudden BAM, Kestrel anchors and he stops the EIGHT DOGS in front of him. I couldn’t react and hit the brakes on the ATV fast enough, and I ended up swerving to avoid him and the other wheel dog and running over the gangline with one of the front wheels. Just as quick as Kestrel stopped the team, the team jumped forward, snapping tension back on the gangline.
It was now wrapped around the axle of the ATV and there was no way to undo this with 10 dogs pulling on the gangline. So I had to take the shortest route home I could, at speed so the dogs wouldn’t pull on the axle too hard, turning a planned 35 mile run into a 14 mile run. All Kestrel had for me was a big smile and a tail wag.

Ruby Ramaker

Ruby and the Brake

On one of my first runs I forgot that I might need to use a little brake to control the team. Eventually both of my feet were knocked off of the runners, but I still hung on! My dad says I looked like superman driving a team of dogs.

John Konecne

My First Dog Sled

My first sled was one that I built myself. I bought some cheap pine lumber (started by cutting my own birch, but that was taking forever) that was on sale and thought I’d see if I could do it. It actually handled quite well, and I was pretty proud of it! On one of our runs, I leaned in on a turn and the handlebar snapped off and I face planted in the snow. I then watched my team continue on without me. Fortunately, the trail ended at my house where my family was waiting for them, and I only had about half a mile to run. This was the first and only time I have ever lost a team. It was also the last sled that I ever built.

Nicole Freking

Sister Saved the Day

I was going out with 8 dogs on a 35 mile run. As I’m leaving the hook up yard, I hit a tree and loose my team. My dad and sister, Elena, catch my team and we continued on the run. About 15 miles into the run, we stop to give the dogs a break and then when we start to leave, I can’t get my snow hook out of the ground.

I kick it and get it out, but one of my feet is still on the ground and as the dogs take off my feet slip out from under me and I grab a hold of the handlebar, dragging behind the team. Luckily, Elena was behind me and came to the rescue, getting her team far enough in front of me to park them and get my team stopped.

Robin Fisher

Robin and the Deer Rib Cage

A big black husky named Jake Junior saw us coming down the side of the dog truck putting booties on each paw. He crawled under the truck and tucked all four of his feet tightly under his belly where no one could get to them. When I came to him to do his booties, all I could do was laugh!

==============

I was running the short Beargrease Race one year using a small wooden basket sled. In the dark, mid trail, my team ran over a deer rib cage. The dogs got past it but it tangled squarely under my sled in front of the brakes. The entire rib cage dragged into the trail and was a huge anchor to my race! My attempts to get free of it failed. I finally had to stop and hook down and flip the sled completely upside down to untangle that rib cage. Wow, that was a tricky move! I guess we thank the wolves for that one.

Melissa Mendelson

Deer Ditch Drive-Thru

During deer hunting season last year, I had Kestrel, one of my yearling leader-in-training dogs, in lead during a run. Some careless hunter had dumped an entire deer minus the antlers in the ditch next to the road and Kestrel beelined for it, excited as all heck to get a mid run meal. He tried to drag the whole team into the ditch, but thankfully my other leader got him back on track!

He has a history of pulling shenanigans – earlier that same season, Kestrel spotted a few swans out on a lake we pass every run. He started lunging and barking and trying to pull the team into the lake after the swans, but thankfully he wasn’t in lead that day and none of the other dogs were having any of his shenanigans!

Bob Lee

Never Hold onto a Gangline Attached to six Eurohounds

Dogs have a way of teaching their mushers lessons they will never forget!

In my first year of training my dog team, I had 5 experienced Eurohounds and two 10 month old puppies. Knowing next to nothing about training a team, I decided that the best way to introduce the puppies to the sport was to take them on a short run in harness with the rest of the team. I only had a 6 dog line so that meant taking one pup out at a time.

It was a sunny September day and with the first flawless run completed, I returned to the dog yard with all the confidence in the world that I was a natural (and of course so were my dogs). I had this hard working and very promising Eurohound team under control and responding to every gee, haw, and whoa. I pulled up along the dog yard fence and exchanged pups, never suspecting that this second run wouldn’t go as smoothly as the first. I realized that I would have to turn this team around to take them out on the trail again with the other pup. With the commanding tone of an experienced general, I instructed my wife, Lori, to help turn the team around. I unhooked the gangline and had Lori hang on to the neck line while we redirected the team 180 degrees.

After a bit of stumbling and tripping and trying to keep up, we (my wife really) finally got the team pointed in the right direction. Now the ATV had to be turned around. I said to my devoted and unquestioning training partner, “Turn the ATV around. I’ll hang onto the gangline and hook them up.” As any experienced dog musher could have predicted, the moment the dogs heard the roar of the ATV motor, they took off with me hanging onto the gangline, being dragged (like a wild west scene) down the trail while yelling, “WHOA,WHOA, WHOA!” My wife, who is much smarter than me, knew to kill the engine immediately and join in the yelling of WHOA!!! The team came to a stop 30 yards or so later. Nothing hurt but my pride and my wife laughing hysterically, I learned a very valuable lesson, “NEVER hold onto a gangline of 6 Eurohounds!”

Steph Love

Steph and Richard on the Trails

Many years ago, when Richard was helping with a tour at Positive Energy Outdoors, he left with a 10 dog team out our back trail, which is notorious for its steep downhill and sharp left hand turn at the start with a number of tricky corners after that. I left out the front trail, and noticed Richard was running the tour with only one arm when we met up a few minutes later. Once we were close enough to talk on the trail, he said he’d hurt his arm leaving the yard, but he’d be be fine running the tour with one arm (15+ miles). When we got back into the dog yard, he took off his parka and pointed to his elbow. When I touched it, I realized his bicep muscle had detached from his shoulder and was now pooled at the bottom by his elbow! Of course Richard drove himself to the ER, and after a good rest, he was back to mushing again. I will never be as tough as Richard, and I will never stop laughing when I think of that story.

Stephanie See

Enya – the Banshee

Enya’s nickname is “the Banshee” because she screams when she is excited. She is especially loud when she about to start a sled race or a weight pull.

Amelia Gagliano

The Day Brakes Became Decorative

Not too far from here in Bayfield is the ice road to Madeline Island. Last year my mom had the fun idea to try and take some dog teams out to the island in March after our racing and touring season was over. On a beautiful day we brought two teams over, one of 8 for our two person sled and one of 4 for our other sled. Well, as it turns out the ice road is indeed pure ice, and our break points do nothing to slow or stop teams. This turned into quite an event with 8 strong dogs who are their peak conditioning.

Turning them around ended up being a nightmare on ice and by the end, I was lying on the ground watching 8 of our best dogs running away along the shore of Madeline Island and Lake Superior. Thankfully they eventually tangled and came back, but not for losing at least 10 years of my life due to stress and physical exertion trying to chase them in deep snow. There’s more to this story, but the moral here is: if you ever want to run the ice road with a dog team, use less dogs!

Jarred (JJ) Stone

Cody – SIT!

Jarred (JJ) had received a husky (Cody) from a very loving family that had trained the dog well. She would sit on command and do the other kinds of family related tricks. However, the dog was high energy and not really conducive to being an indoor dog. JJ took her in and Cody loved to run with our 4 dog and skijoring teams. She was such a natural, that he made her his lead dog.

During a 4 dog sprint race, a section of the trail came very close to the spectators. For some reason Cody decided to put on the brakes and stopped the team to get some well deserved “pats on the head” from the many spectators cheering for her. To say that JJ was a little upset would be a severe understatement. Cody was quickly demoted to a less important position on the team at our next race.

Time marches on and at another sprint race, Cody was taking on the lead position once again. This time however as a 3 dog skijoring leader. During the race the quick release had dislodged and the team started to run free down the trail with JJ left far behind. As the entire team was making tracks, JJ screamed out “CODY —- SIT!” She did as commanded and stopped the team. After being reattached to the tug line, the entire team, even the musher, continued down the trail.

Howard
Thompson

Two Snub Lines Too Late

Once, when training dogs, I was advising my friend to secure his dog team with 2 snub lines. Meanwhile, I heard two pops and saw my team disappear over the rise as they had broken both of my worn snub lines. The moral of the story is: take care of your own team before giving advice.o.

Claire
Carpenter

Spaghetti Lines at Beargrease

In the January 2022 John Beargrease Cub Run I had just turned the first corner when one of my wheel dogs fell in the deep snow causing the whole team to tangle. It was a crazy mess. I tried my best but had to have help to untangle the team. That is not even the worst part, my wheel dog that had gotten us into the mess managed to slip out of the harness at the very end of the race with every body watching! Luckily he is a great dog and just ran to auntie Anna when he was called. It was a lot of trouble last year but in the end it made me a better musher.

Dawn
Kerrigan

YEEHAA at the Crossroads

Last year was my first year ever on a sled, I had trained my dogs with the words left and right. Well I got an offer to run 4 of Buckys dogs, started out just fine, I saw an intersection coming up and realized I don’t know which is which for gee and haw at this point. Yeehaa, works when in doubt, the dogs went the direction I was hoping to go.

Amelia
Gagliano

Big Smiles – Short Runs

While giving sled dog rides, people ALWAYS ask us if we’ve done the Iditarod and we laugh and say “Heck no! We like to sleep way too much!”

Morgan
Martens

During the Jr Iditarod, I encountered a moose and calf on the trail, experienced an earthquake, a winter storm that covered the trail with very deep snow and blew down 7 trees on the trail that I had to go over, and a very cold night camping with his dogs.

Moose Declared the Trail Closed

Amanda
Bartlett

I can say running dogs has allowed me to elbow a moose in the butt.

Derek
Nechuta

Mitten Drop -Team Gone

I was on a training run and dropped a mitten out of reach with 2 miles left in the run. The snow wasn’t deep enough to really set the hook, and the dogs were standing patiently waiting to go. I stretched out and let go of the handlebars for a second and just like that, the sled and the dogs took off in the dark… I ran after the sled screaming in panic, I followed their tracks, they ended up blowing the turn back into the kennel and worry fell over me… I jumped on the quad and went down the trail.. I found them a few miles later, all resting and happy behind the nearest Tavern.

Linda
Thompson

Jax – No Regrets

Jax is known to run over volunteers at numerous races and has ran back to the starting line by himself in the 2019 race.