Magical mushing

Dogsledding as a family adventure never crossed my mind until, on a chilly winter afternoon, we harnessed up our blue heeler and had him try to pull the three-year-old around the backyard.

Not surprisingly, it ended badly.

Our non-sled-trained mutt dumped the sled, and the boy plowed head first into the snow on the first turn. Through a mouthful of the white stuff I could make out the boy was not impressed.

As the dog tried to gnaw the harness off his back and my husband laughed hysterically, an idea to try our hand at real dogsledding was born.

It wasn't a bucket-list item for any of us, but it should have been.

Two weeks later, on a sunny, snowy March morning, the three of us were on our way to Canmore's Howling Dog Tours. The sled dog tour company had taken a hit after news broke that a similarly named business in Whistler had culled 100 sled dogs after the Vancouver Winter Olympics, so supporting this tour group seemed like a natural choice. Plus, as a news reporter, I wanted to see the conditions for myself.

After a short shuttle ride from their office in the townsite to the breathtaking Spray Lakes Provincial Park, our adventure began.

The company has four packages from which to choose and we had selected its most popular two-hour tour, as we didn't know how long the three-year-old would last. (It turns out he was so relaxed and thrilled all at the same time we could have easily done the half-day ride).

My husband and I each paid $149, while our son cost just $30. Taxes are extra.

We also liked the fact the company promises not to partner you with strangers or split up your group. This exclusivity is an important consideration when you are squeezing into a tight canvas sled, as the quarters are intimate to say the least.

Once at the dog-staging area, we broke off into small groups and met our musher (tour guide/trainer) and the dogs. Roughly half of the huskies were caged in trucks and the rest were leashed and tethered to the ground.

All were awaiting their turn to gallop and all were comforted and played with by attentive and loving staff.

The dozens of frantic, frenzied Alaskan and Siberian huskies yelping and howling and jumping and scratching and pawing at the snow were slightly unnerving at first.

"They are just raring to go," said Nathan, our guide. "They aren't relaxed until they are running."

Nathan put us at ease right away and, as the owner promised when we booked, allowed us to help harness the seven-dog team together and get to know them a bit before the three of us piled onto a sled and cosied up under a stack of blankets.

Nathan, who stood at the back of the sled on the runners, released the brakes, shouted "Hike" to the dogs and we jolted forward. We were off into the wilderness of the stunning Spray Lakes park; nothing but mountains and forest all around.

Suddenly, it was quiet for the first time. The dogs stopped barking as if on cue and the snow was falling in those giant, soft, slushy flakes that drop slowly and stick to your face. The only sounds were the gentle glide of sled blades on fresh powder and the hushed panting of the hard-working dogs.

The Rockies, layered in snow and ice and highlighted by the bright white sun, had never looked so magnificent.

"Wow," was all my husband and I could utter.

Howling Dog Tours is a family operation, owned by Rich and Dana Bittner, who have spent more than 15 years in business. The duo began their dog-mushing career on the sprint racing circuit in Western Canada. Since 1989, they have participated in many competitive events, including races up to 300 kilometres long.

But it's the dogs that are the real stars. All 200 of them.

The company houses two sled dog breeds: the friendly and sleek Alaskan husky and the Siberian husky. The Alaskan racing husky has been made famous by such long distance races as the Iditarod and the Yukon Quest.

Our dog team of seven included two veterans who spent many years racing in competition -- proven Iditarod and Yukon Quest dogs -- and now spend their retirement days in Canmore.

There were also a few Alaskan husky/German short-haired pointer crosses, which are lean, fast and friendly.

A few minutes into the trail, Nathan asked if either of us wanted to drive. I jumped at the chance. Following a super-quick lesson on how to talk to the dogs, how to brake and how to help give the pooches a push uphill, we were off. Turns out the dogs don't only listen to the trained guide -- they will pretty much listen to anyone.

"They know they get to eat at the end, so that's good motivation to listen," said Nathan. "And they don't like to sit still, so they will take commands from anyone."

Standing on the back of that sled, losing myself in the mesmerizing gallop while guiding a dog team through the forest, was surreal in its simplicity.

It wasn't the world-famous Iditarod, but that didn't matter; in my head, it was and we were in a race, with the dogs in relentless pursuit of the finish line. I yelled "Hike" repeatedly and the dogs picked up speed, their tails whishing left and right.

Our son squealed. His mom and dad grinned like three-year-olds.

We all won.

-- Postmedia News

Local dogsledding options

HOWLING DOG TOURS: 1-877-DOG-SLED; howlingdogtours.com

SNOWY OWL TOURS: 1-888-311-MUSH; snowyowltours.com

Mad Dogs and Englishmen: 1-877-6MAD-DOG (1-877-662-3364); maddogsexpeditions. com

Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition January 7, 2012 D2