Dog People

My weekends are quickly becoming consumed by furry, four-legged beasts. This past Saturday, I took photos at the Howling Woods Farm clean up event. I spent the day hidden behind my viewfinder, narrowly avoiding massive dug-out canyons and poop mountains -- both products readily manufactured by the woofers.

Sunday I returned to the Pine Barrens for my second day of mushing -- well, my first real day. I borrowed Bolt and Spirit, the same two leaders as on my first run. Dexter once again took the wheel position -- this time, with no hesitation at all. Rob road with me at first, but hopped off once we hit softer terrain.

We road just under 2.5 miles in about 20 minutes, with our average moving speed just under 7 miles per hour. The lead dogs were a bit tired from their morning run, and I kept a relatively slow pace so that Rob could keep up on foot. Dex also decided he needed a poop break mid-run, so that slowed us down a tad. Our max speed was 14 and 1/2 miles per hour. The take-off is definitely the most exhilarating and terrifying part of the ride.

This Sunday, I'm going to get to the race site as early as possible and have Dexter run with my mentor's full team. I hope he doesn't mind being referred to as my "mentor" -- although, technically, everyone I've met thus far has offered lots of help and advice, and could be considered a mentor.

To conclude this entry, I will leave you with a short video from our Sunday run. This was taken by Rob as he dangled off the back of the cart, and he spent a bit too much time filming my dirty hair and goofy face -- so please, ignore that and enjoy the dog butts.

On My Way

Dog Sled Race in Flin Flon, Manitoba

February 3rd, 1954

I never thought I'd be running a team of sled dogs through the NJ Pine Barrens. But that's mostly because I didn't know people did that. It was only a year or two ago that I discovered "dry land" dog sledding -- which uses wheeled rigs rather than sleds. And I only recently discovered a group that did this in New Jersey.

On Sunday, I drove down to the Pine Barrens with Dexter and met up with the mushers. Laura, the breeder I have been talking to, was there with her team. I hope to get a puppy from her sometime next year. My real purpose for going was to meet with a man named Bryan, who was selling a used gig (cart, rig, etc.).

Let's pause for a moment. I did not intend to purchase a gig so soon. My plan was to train Dexter with bikejoring (dog + bike) and canicross (dog + hiking) for a few months, then eventually add a puppy to the mix. When the pup was old enough, I'd introduce the gig and get them started on some actual training.

Sometimes, unforeseen opportunities arise that you cannot pass up. I found the gig for sale, and for much cheaper than I was anticipating. It needs a tiny bit of work, and maybe some fresh paint, but it's just what I need to get started.

Before buying the rig, I had to take it for a "test drive". Bryan was kind enough to lend me two of his dogs to put in lead, with Dexter in wheel. He also road on the side of the cart with me, so that my first run wouldn't end in too much disaster.

The run actually went pretty well. It was very brief, just a few minutes long, but still exciting. Dex was a bit worried at first -- he kept looking back at me in a quizzical manner. The steering and breaking is a bit unusual, but I should be able to get a hang of it. I managed to avoid toppling over or steering into trees, so I'm happy about that. On the run back to the site, Dexter found his groove and started to run really hard. I'm proud of him -- he looked like a real sled dog (despite looking very little like a husky).

Dexter behaved really well in general -- very calm around the other dogs and even around the horses that passed by us. I was more nervous about his behavior than anything else -- he loves to be embarrassing in new situations. Aside from getting a bit yappy towards the end (I swear, he picked that up from the other dogs right then and there -- he's not usually a barker), he surpassed my expectations and did great.

After we ran, we loaded the gig up and I paid Bryan for it. I brought it back to my parent's house with their van, since I'm not sure how I'll attach it to my car yet. There's no use bringing it to our place at this point, there's no where for me to use it around here. Weather-permitting, I'll head back down on Sunday for another run. All the mushers were extremely friendly and very helpful, so I look forward to getting to know them all.

On a semi-related note, I need to move to the farmlands of south Jersey. It's so beautiful and tranquil. I don't mind the long drive to the Pine Barrens; I love getting away from the congestion of suburbia.

What's the Point?

Don't worry, this isn't going to be a self-pitying entry about my qualms with the universe. I don't mean "What's the point?" as a rhetorical question, as people often do. I mean it quite literally. What's the point to this blog?

A friend of mine has been working on a blog of his own, and has been trying to streamline his thoughts and interests into a general theme. He got me thinking about the blogs I read, and my own blog, as well.

The blogs I read have very little in common with one another. A fashion designer in Brooklyn, a dog musher in Alaska, a farmer in upstate New York, a mother and her cancer-fighting baby in Kentucky. Maybe because they're all written by strong women? They all have qualities I admire; primarily, strength and independence. Only a few of the blogs I read are written by men. (And most don't even update anymore!)

Blogs are an evolution of the personal diary; a hobby often associated with the female sex (though I'm not sure why -- is keeping a record of your day-to-day life somehow feminine?). I've always kept diaries, journals, and now, blogs. My first diary was a big, blue, spiral notebook. I mostly used it for stickers, but I did scribble out some entries. They were riddled with spelling errors and hard to read, chicken-scratch handwriting.

I went through a long phase of starting journals and then immediately destroying everything I had written. Pretty much sums up my pre-teen and teenage years. So much angst for no apparent reason.

Then came the internet. I think I have had every online journal/diary/blog imaginable. Livejournal, Deadjournal, Xanga, and more recently, Blogger and Tumblr. I know there are others, I just can't remember them all.

But what's the point? Why have I always been so inclined to record my ramblings? And publicly, no less? Part of it is to feel important, I'm sure. To broadcast my thoughts and ideas, as if they somehow matter. Many hope to gain a following, some sort of e-fame, through their writing. I admit, that would be exciting. But I've been writing for years without any clear audience, and I don't show any signs of stopping.

My blog (diary, journal, etc.) is for me, above all else. It's something to keep track of my existence -- to prove that I exist. To share what I care about to anyone who might be listening. I don't write to change anyone's mind, but to open it, if only for a minute. And while I don't write about anything earth-shattering or unique, I hope to at least offer an alternate perspective: my perspective.

So when I ramble about dogs, cooking, and hiking, I realize I may bore the masses. But one person might adopt a husky, buy a bread machine, or go for a walk in the woods. And that's all I can hope for.

My Bread Making Adventure: Part IV - Pizza Edition

A few nights ago, Rob and I were hungry, and there was nothing to eat. In desperation, I turned to my trusty bread machine. I found a very simple recipe for pizza dough, and decided to give it a shot. The first pie came out surprisingly well. In fact, it was so good, we decided to celebrate our friend Ed's birthday with more homemade pizzas (along with cookies, cake, wine, and beer).

The recipe (originally from here, by Kim):

• 1 cup flat beer (I used Pabst the first time around, Yuengling the second... no noticeable difference)
• 2 tablespoons butter
• 2 tablespoons sugar
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 2 1/4 teaspoons yeast

Throw everything in your bread machine and set it on "dough". It takes a little while, but the resulting pile of doughy goodness is the perfect consistency for pizza -- no more frozen, store-bought dough for us! By the way, if you get impatient and take your dough out a few minutes early, just be sure to have lots of extra flour on hand. It'll help make it less sticky.

For my pizzas, I sprinkled flour and cornmeal on a pan (makes the crust crispier). I stretched and flattened the dough by hand, and folded the edges for a nice, thick crust. I brushed olive oil on the crust and let the dough sit for about 15 minutes, with a paper towel covering the top. Next, I added a thin layer of Prego tomato sauce (I would love to make my own sauce next time, but Prego got the job done). On top of the sauce, I sprinkled a thick layer of mozzarella, and topped it off with some fresh parsley.

The pizza takes about 20-25 minutes to bake at 400° F -- just wait until the crust is golden brown and crispy. I added fresh Parmesan cheese on top after taking it out of the oven.

The final step: cut and consume! I'm sure this recipe can be adjusted for different pizza styles and toppings. If you try it, let me know what kind of pizza you made!

Colors of Autumn

After hiking six miles around the Watchung Reservation with my point-and-shoot, I can safely state that it was a solid investment. To say it takes good photos would be an understatement. It's so compact and light, I had no trouble letting it dangle from my wrist the entire time. Definitely easier on my back than lugging around my D-SLR gear.

Even the cheesy panorama setting produced some pretty awesome shots.

All in all, I'm very satisfied with my new hiking buddy. Although Dexter was a bit annoyed by my frequent stops for photo opportunities.

"Can we go!?"