LONE MOUNTAIN RANCH - Day 5 - Feb 7, 2025

DRIVERS EDUCATION: EVERYBODY READY? LET’S GO!

We woke up this morning to a blanket of fresh new snow after last night’s storm. While the morning temperature was a relatively balmy 20 degrees, the afternoon temperature was expected to be about 10 degrees. Our dog sledding excursion was scheduled for 1:00pm - perfect for a day on the trail!

Our driver, Danny, met us at the Outpost at 11:15am for the one hour ride to meet the operators of Yellowstone Dog Sled Adventures. We were bundled up in our warmest gear and ready for adventure.

The two lane highway follows the Gallitan River into the mountains towards Yellowstone National Park. The road conditions began to deteriorate within just a few miles. Snow was accumulating rapidly and visibility was reducing quickly. We passed a big rig that had slid off the road, and soon came upon a pickup truck and trailer that had done the same. 

Danny is a cautious and experienced driver and our 4WD GMC Yukon was up to the task. Eventually, we got off the highway onto what is usually a dirt road. Today it was covered in new snow, which was growing as the storm continued to increase in intensity. We climbed up into a beautiful canyon on the winding road and Danny wondered aloud whether the dog teams would go today. There was seemingly no one else around.

Finally we reached a gate with a cut out image of a dog on a fence post. We turned in and saw a few trucks, a portable outhouse, and several tents. This was headquarters.

The scene reminded me of old photos from the Klondike Gold Rush back in 1899. The old canvas tents had stoves in them and a wood campfire provided the outdoor heat. Dogs and sleds were randomly arrayed about the area. The sound of yelping and barking cut through the blowing snow. 

Danny decided to stay there rather than drive back to Lone Mountain (which is the usual practice) because of the road conditions. We jumped out and went over to the ‘office’ to sign waiver papers.  

Today, there was only one other couple besides Karen and I doing the excursion. Each couple was assigned one sled and a six-dog team. Our guide spent a few minutes going over some dog sled basics, such as, 1) the reason the dogs all looked like a bunch of mutts is because that’s what they are; 2) the idealized vision of majestic huskies and malamutes, etc. doesn’t hold true in actual practice - those breeds are more suited to low sub-zero conditions and would not do well in the ‘warmer’ climate of Montana; 3) the mutts are actually bred specifically for this job and are every bit true Alaskan sled dogs. In fact, these dogs work the winter in Montana and then get transported to Juneau, Alaska to run and work the summer on a glacier, where they do sled excursions for cruise ship tourists; 4) we would be stopping occasionally to keep the dogs from overheating.

As for driving instructions, they were brief and to the point. Stand with a foot on each skid, use the foot brake to slow the sled and to prevent slack in the lead lines, lean into the turns, and NEVER let go of the sled. The basic commands for the team are, 1) everybody ready? 2) let’s go! 3) easy now; 4) whoa! To turn left you yell ‘ha’, turn right yell ‘gee’.

Karen decided to be the passenger for the first leg of the trip and we would switch places for the second. As we got ready to go, the dogs were going nuts. The baying was deafening. The guide had a team in first position, our fellow tourists were second and we were third. A guy on a snowmobile wound around through the woods and shadowed us as a safety vehicle.

When we got the word to go and issued our commands, the sled took off like a slingshot. With the sounds of the teams, the whoosh of the sleds on the snow, and the snowflakes falling from the sky, it felt like we had been transported to another time and place.

After about 45 minutes of twisting and turning through the forest, we returned to headquarters for a 15 minute break. Then, we switched drivers and Karen took control of our sled. 

As before, we took off in a hurry. Karen skillfully led us along the trail. I was surprised at how comfortable the ride was as a passenger. Tucked into my little sleeping bag cocoon, I was very cozy.

We came to a sharp right turn at a moderate pace when the sled suddenly lifted onto its left runner with the right one in the air. I heard Karen say, ‘oh no!’. The sled returned to an upright position and immediately accelerated. In the distance, I could hear Karen’s voice grow fainter as she yelled, ‘stop!’. Locked into my cocoon, I couldn’t see behind me - I just saw the sled ahead of me growing larger as we bore down on it. Our sled was driverless after Karen had been flung from it and lay sprawled in the snow somewhere behind us. The team, sensing a lighter sled, instinctively began to run faster.

The dogs stopped before running into the other sled. The snowmobile came out of the trees and got our team settled down. Karen, who had gotten up and brushed the snow off, soon caught up to us on foot and got us going again. She did a great job overall, and she provided me with one of the more memorable and entertaining moments of our trip. I’m still smiling as I write this.

By the time we finished, the snow had stopped and the sun was coming out. The drive back to the ranch was quick and easy.

We had our final dinner at the Horn and Cantle tonight. I ordered their signature 30oz bone-in tomahawk ribeye steak dinner - a fitting meal after a long day out in the wilds of Montana.

NEXT: Drive to Missoula to meet Jeff and Joanna and finish that steak