Beargrease #3

Up ahead, we saw four Border Patrol SUV’s parked on either side of Minnesota Highway 61, lights flashing, officers standing nearby. We were headed into Grand Portage, only six miles from the Canadian border, to watch sled dog teams competing in the Beargrease Marathon come into the turnaround checkpoint.

We expected to be waved to a stop but the officers didn’t look up when we approached so we figured they were looking for a specific car and went on our way. It was chilling seeing them there, lights twirling, alarming. It marred the drive somehow, made us remember the terrible things happening in the country.

Later we learned the Border Patrol was stationed there to stop traffic and provide safe passage across Highway 61 for sled dog teams coming in to the checkpoint. I wanted to go shake all the officers’ hands, so refreshing it was to hear.

We waited a good while at the checkpoint because the teams were running slower than anticipated. We were lucky to be inside then, drinking coffee and waiting, and then the first beautiful team arrived, guided by helpers across the yard where they would settle in next to their team’s truck to eat and sleep. We piled on our parkas and mittens and went outside to watch. It was sunny and 7 degrees. Perfect weather.

The process of putting the teams to bed was peaceful and sweet. The dogs stood still, their noses in the air sniffing their food cooking in a big pot nearby. They ate a special stew steaming in metal bowls, and then waited for handlers to bring straw for sleeping. They circled as dogs do, like maybe your dog does in your living room, turning around and around until finally settling, curled up as if in front of a fireplace.

At that is how we left them. Nestled in the straw with their mates, covered with blankets, restoring themselves. We won’t see them waking, hear them yipping, watch them tugging at their lines wanting to go. They will wake up ready and excited for what’s next. Like we all should.