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DARBY, Mont. — Miles of snow-covered hills rippled across the landscape, backed by the jagged peaks of the Bitterroot Mountains. I could hear the blades of my dogsled shushing along the trail and the rhythmic pitter-patter of paws as my huskies pulled me along. The trail descended as it traversed the side of a hill and then made a tight U-turn and wound back up another mountain.
“Good job,” our guide, Jessie Royer, yelled to a musher behind us, a Vancouver woman who had never been dog sledding. “I usually lose about half my guests on that turn,” she joked.