Free Iditarod Nights by Cindy Hiday

spoiled the view. The dogs didn't need it.
    She stopped trailside prior to reaching
Skwentna to feed her dogs the meal she and the Sommers had cooked
that morning and put in the cooler to keep it from freezing. Once
they'd eaten and had curled up for a snooze, Claire managed to
catch a nap on top of her sled bag before the sounds of another
team passing in the dark woke her.
    They reached Skewentna at 3:30 in the
morning. Claire followed the volunteers waving glow sticks to
collect the first of her food-drop bags, then blew through the
checkpoint. Her dogs needed little coaxing.
    An hour after dawn of day two, they made
Finger Lake checkpoint, bordered by a line of timber at the base of
the Alaska Range. A checker wearing a bright yellow vest over his
parka welcomed her. "Bib number?"
    "Twenty-two."
    He recorded the information on his clipboard
and looked at his watch. "Time is eight thirty-seven. How many
dogs?"
    "Sixteen." Claire signed the check-in
log.
    "Are you staying?"
    "Yes."
    "Okay, there's half-bales and full bales,
HEET and water on your right."
    "Great. Thanks." Claire pulled up the hook.
"Hup. Good dogs."
    Once she'd loaded the supplies on her sled, a
volunteer showed her where to park her team. They'd been on the
trail eighteen hours and covered a hundred and twelve miles. Claire
planned to wait out the heat of the day in Finger Lake and give her
dogs a good rest before tackling the Happy River Steps and the side
hills of Happy River Canyon. The next hundred miles or so of trail
would be some of their toughest.
    The dogs wasted no time settling in. Ginny
curled into a tight ball to make herself inconspicuous. Singer and
Riley rolled in the snow and pawed the air. Riley was minus a
bootie. Again. Trouble nipped at Pepper for encroaching on his
space, and Groucho barked like a skipping record, impatient to eat.
Claire tossed a scoop of kibble onto the snow in front of each dog,
followed by slices of frozen lamb.
    She began spreading straw for their bedding
and a volunteer veterinarian came by to do a HAWL examination on
each dog. Heart, hydration, appetite and attitude, weight, lungs.
Claire showed her yellow vet book, documenting previous mandatory
checks.
    "How'd they look on the trail?" the vet asked
as she manipulated Handsome's right front leg, looking for sprains
or soreness. "Any concerns?"
    "They did great," Claire said. "The trail's
been perfect. Nice base under the snow."
    While the woman continued her exam on the
rest of the team, Claire finished laying out straw and started
removing booties. She ran her fingers between pads to clear any ice
accumulation, checked for abrasions and applied zinc oxide ointment
to keep their paws soft and dry. Riley's left rear paw showed a
little redness but no breaks in the skin. Claire rubbed an
anti-inflammatory on it to be safe.
    With Groucho, Sam, Mama's Boy and Harmony
rounding out Saturday's ceremonial line-up, she had sixty-four paws
to inspect. Zach got tired of waiting and chewed one of his booties
off. "Darn it," Claire scolded, poking her finger through the soggy
hole he'd made. His ears flattened against his head. "Don't give me
that sad look. Lucky for you and Riley, I packed extras."
    The veterinarian confirmed what Claire
already knew, that her athletes were in good health – fresh. She
could pull up the hook and get back on the trail right now and
they'd be fine with it. But she didn't want to push them or
herself.
    She set up the alcohol cooker and dumped in
HEET, lit it and set a pot of water on to boil. The Alaska Range
watched and waited. Claire paused to lean back and study their
intimidating snowy peaks and icy ravines. Later that afternoon, she
and her dogs would take on the challenge of reaching the other
side. My God .
    Dillon was up there somewhere. He may have
even checked out of Rainy Pass by now. She hadn't seen him since
the restart in Willow yesterday afternoon. He stayed in Skwentna
for a few hours, but had already checked out when she got