Member-only story
My magical encounter with mushing
A brief commentary
On that particular Saturday, I felt I had to do something I had never seen or done before but had dreamt of.
It feels harder now to forge experiences into written text than it was, let´s say, the year before. I will work to get the words across.
I am a huge aficionado of Nordic dog breeds. Once a year, there is a regional event called the International Sleddog Race, organized by a small club in Northern Germany. International, meaning mostly German and Scandinavian teams connected by network ties in the sled-dog setting.
Being the proud owner of a Husky mix, I brought the dog. She was really hyped by seeing so many of her peers. I felt the same about the special atmosphere.
The date was set for the Celtic New Year festival, Samhain, which many of you know as Halloween.
It is said that the veils between the worlds are thin on that day, and as I reminisce this now, I feel a bond, a sincere connection to these animals.
Feels like I have found a tribe, a place where I belong.
Dryland mushing, or mushing in general, is a team effort, not a master-slave relationship.
The dogs want to pull, but only when you see them and take their needs into account.
The dogs count on you, so you better stay in shape and lead with a sober mind.
I am asking myself again and again: What is essential in my life? What is my true nature?
