Young musher hears call of the wild
To hear Pam Lacombe-Connell describe it, you could almost see the bulb light up over her husband's head on that day 10 years ago.
The couple lived on a small farm in Derry, N.H., with their 3-year-old son, Jacy, and a very energetic Siberian husky. Stephen Connell was an electrical design engineer who was building wooden boats as a hobby.
"And boats are basically the same shape as sleds," Lacombe-Connell points out.
So Stephen Connell turned his boat-building expertise to a new pursuit: a wooden sled. A sled that the dog could pull while the child rode.
The boy loved his sled. The dog did, too. The family started attending New England Sled Dog Club events.
Ten years, countless hours of training, five more dogs, and dozens of races later, Jacy Connell is one of the top-rated junior mushers in New England. He competed in his first sled-dog race at age 6; he won his first championship the following year.
Back then, he raced with one dog on a quarter-mile loop. Later, he graduated to the junior three-dog division and a 4-mile course. Last winter, he won first place in his division at events in Tamworth, N.H., and Burke, Vt.
Now 13, Jacy will finally have a chance this winter to compete in his first adult class with four dogs. The sled he uses is the same one his father built a decade ago.
The family's knowledge about the sport grew as they read up on sled-dog racing and became acqu ainted with members of the New England Sled Dog Club. Seasoned competitors taught them training techniques and helped them select equipment. Even at the top levels of competition, the races are always a convivial experience, Jacy and his mother emphasize, and mushers who may be fierce rivals on the course greet each other warmly and inquire after one another's dogs.
The racing season lasts only about three months, when competitors can count on a solid snow cover. But training continues all year.
"There are a lot of different rigs you can use for training," Jacy said. "Mine is a three-wheeled rig with wheelbarrow tires. It's very lightweight. Other racers train by having their dogs pull scooters, bicycles, and even all-terrain vehicles without motors."
Except in hot weather, Jacy takes the dogs to the trails at a nearby training center about three times a week. At home on the farm, the family plays with the dogs and keeps them running around; on the weekend, the entire pack of humans and animals often heads to the White Mountains for a hike.
But there's a lot more to training than the physical aspect. As the Connells explain it, being a competitive musher means devoting yourself to a 24/7 regimen of animal care and nurturing. The stronger the bond between the dogs and the musher, the more successful a team they will be.
"Jacy and the dogs are always together," Lacombe-Connell said recently of the six canines on the premises, which include a few huskies and some hybrids. "If he's doing his homework on the couch, they lie down next to him. If he's practicing his trumpet, they howl along. They sleep near him. Of course, feeding and watering them takes up a lot of our time, too, and there's always a dog that needs to be let in or let out."
And there's the expense.
"We've made a commitment to care for a whole team of athletes," Lacombe-Connell said. "We give them a high-quality, high-energy dry dog food, and we supplement it with homemade chicken soup, bananas, carrots, dates, and bread. In total, we spend thousands of dollars every year on their food. There's also heartworm medication and routine vet care; if they ever need surgery or treatment for anything not routine, that can run into thousands of dollars more. Even boarding them when we go on vacation costs us hundreds of dollars. Most vacations, we go camping and take them with us, but last summer, we left them at a kennel so that we could hike Huntington Ravine in the White Mountains. That hike would have been too tough for them."
"That hike was too tough for any life form," Jacy interjected.
Lacombe-Connell admits that, as much as she loves the sport, she watches races with her heart in her mouth.
"When Jacy was a little kid, racing on the quarter-mile loop, I could see him the whole time," she said. "Now he does the 4-mile course, so I see him for about a minute and then he disappears into the woods. Twenty or 25 minutes can go by before I spot the sled again. I sit there and worry about him and about the dogs. Those are all my children out there."
Still, beyond the anxiety of watching a race, she believes that it is a wonderful way for families to share an activity and enjoy the environment.
"Unlike a lot of kids, Jacy spends most of his time outside," she said. "Our family, all three of us, spend a lot of time together traveling to races. We're very close. Mushers need handlers to help them at races, and Stephen and I are Jacy's handlers." (By profession, Lacombe-Connell is an artist, and most of her portfolio comprises oil paintings of sled dogs.)
Every now and then, the family fields questions about whether dog-sled racing constitutes mistreatment. But Lacombe-Connell says all you have to do is meet the dogs to realize that running is in their blood.
"Last time I took the dogs out training, the youngest one broke a snap on her restraint because she was in such a hurry to get out onto the trail. Then she got out there and realized she wasn't attached to the rig, so she came running back to be harnessed. These dogs live to run."
Jacy's goals for the future include owning many more dogs and doing more races with them. He plans to head to Alaska for the Iditarod and Yukon Quest races eventually. Right now, he's just waiting for snow.
"I love winter," he said. "The best times of all are when you are out on the course, in the middle of the woods, and it's silent and snowy. All you can hear is the dogs breathing and their harnesses jingling. It's the greatest thing. I can't wait until the snow starts falling again."
Nancy Shohet West can be reached at nancyswest@hughes.net.
