Jura Mountains: Adventures and Dog Sledding
The Jura Mountains: our first breath of fresh air since our return from a sabbatical year. Our first trip of 2016. What a great way to start the year! We engaged in all sorts of activities: unusual, beautiful, physical... And one of our childhood dreams: dog sledding!
Dog Sledding: First Experience in Canada
It was nine years ago. I had gone to live in Canada for five months. Five wonderful months during which I discovered Quebec in winter and spring. So many dreams to fulfill during this first stay alone abroad. One of my big dreams: dog sledding.
A dream I rushed to fulfill when François joined me for two weeks in the heart of winter. I remember our big sleds, pulled by eight black, brown, gray, and white dogs. I can see myself gliding over wide flat terrains, the dogs moving as if on rails, giving me plenty of time to enjoy the scenery...
That was in Canada.
And this experience did not prepare me at all for what we were going to experience in France, in the Jura Mountains!
The Free Sledding of the Jura Mountains
We meet Alexis Champion in the mushers' parking lot, at the exit of the village of La Pesse. A musher who lives up to his name: for Alexis, there's no taking it easy! Here, everything is optimized, both the sleds and the dogs (chosen from the fastest sled dog breeds).
For him, races (like The Great Odyssey) neglect the technical aspect of the musher to focus on the dogs' performance, which are often pushed to their limits and beyond.
A framework and a lot of love. You can see it in Alexis's passionate gaze. After a proper introduction to his dogs, we prepare the sleds. Alexis warns us:
The dogs, Alexis explains, are afraid of the sled: if you fall, they will continue running so the sled doesn't catch up with them. After rule number 1 come many more, coming one after the other at a brisk pace. Cold sweats start to trickle down my back: I didn't remember it being this technical when we were in Canada!
Finally ready, Alexis shouts my dogs' names to cover the noise of their impatient barking: Horton, Gipsy, Mola, and Modjo.
Horton, Gipsy, Mola, Modjo. Horton, Gipsy, Mola, Modjo.
I repeat these four names like a litany. Don't forget the names. Don't lose control. Don't let go of the sled. Both feet on the brake and hands on the handlebars, I push with all my weight to keep the sled steady against the repeated advances of my four dogs (more than) ready to set off.
Alexis takes off first, followed by François, and I bring up the rear. At least that was the plan... Alexis takes off, directly followed by François who can't control his dogs' energy.
François shouts, but Paula, his lead dog, isn't listening. Paula has only the road on her mind. The road and her master, Alexis. Follow the master. Quick! So fast that François, surprised by the acceleration, becomes unbalanced. He manages to cling to the handlebars. But at the first little bump, the jolt is too strong and François loses his balance, thrown into the air.
Ten seconds. All of this happened in less than ten seconds. Well-organized sleds ready to start, in less than ten seconds, we find ourselves in total chaos. The dogs are barking louder, and François's sled takes off on its own. On the ground, dazed, François gets up without really understanding what just happened. Rushing, Alexis speeds off on his sled to catch the runaway sled. He encourages his lead dog: >
My sled moves in jolts, but I manage to keep it on the starting line.
Alexis and François come back toward me, each on their sled. False start. Forget everything, let's restart. 3. 2. 1. Go! The sleds take off, in order and (almost) discipline on the snowy path.
My four dogs run at full speed. I understand the surprise François had at his bad start. Don't fall! Keep one foot ready on the brake. Above all, above all...
But after a few minutes, the turns follow one after the other... and I'm still there, upright on my sled! Or rather, well bent. Because just like skiing, the position > is the most effective for maintaining balance and following the moves of the sled.
Between the > of the dogs and the > of the sled gliding at full speed, I hear the wind hitting my face and the silence of the forest. Nothing. No one. Everything is white, everything is wild. For a moment, as we cross a powdery off-piste area, I imagine myself as an explorer of distant lands. In the Far North. A land where man has never set foot before. Covered in a blanket of snow that no one before me has admired the whiteness of.
Turn!
Brought back to reality by Horton who pulls like a madman, I brake just in time to prevent my sled from tipping over in the curve. Because one thing you learn quickly is that dogs never make nice, wide turns. No! They carve the straightest path possible. The one that will bring them closest to their master and the lead sled. Branches in the way? Too bad for the musher, the dogs don't care!
Ah, an uphill. I encourage my dogs, especially Horton and Gipsy, my lead dogs. One foot out of the sled, I use it to help them in their effort.
Oh yes, they have certainly given it back to me, Horton, Gipsy, Mola, and Modjo! With every passing minute, I feel them listen better, more confident. Or am I the one gaining confidence? Every command is heard and applied. I learn to anticipate actions and say the right words at the right time. My body and the sled synchronize, leaning to one side or the other to match the curves and embrace the turns. Ears in the wind and tongues hanging out, my dogs enjoy running in the snow, and I'm having a blast speeding down the white hills.
I could see myself settling in the winter months in Grand North landscapes, learning to become a musher. Taking care of the dogs, educating them, walking them. Living in nature all day, surrounded by white landscapes...
Oh? A little worried, I wonder what to expect, knowing that the descents and turns we've just taken were already > for my taste... Technique, precision, good timing to brake and give commands... Okay. I breathe deeply. I encourage each of my dogs by name. Horton. Gipsy. Mola. Modjo. It's going to be our turn. Being more comfortable and faster than François, he lets me pass in front of him.
Okay, GO!
My four dogs take off at full speed.
Did they hear me? Do they want to do their own thing? Or do they just want to enjoy this magnificent descent...?
Yikes, turn ahead. Too short, we are too short on the curve. This isn't going to work. Slooowly, slooowly...! Oh no, not that slowly! The line is loosening, Modjo starts to see it flapping in front of his nose. He might jump over it, get caught, and hurt himself. Okay, GO, we speed up! I let go of the brake in the middle of the turn and encourage my dogs to regain speed to tighten this line. Yes! The line instantly tightens... and with the jolt, the sled loses its stability. And me with it.
Probably one of the longest seconds of my life.
What to do? My feet are running behind the sled, but too slowly. My hands still gripping the handlebars, my brain is racing, but my mouth can't articulate a sound. >, Alexis's voice comes back to mind. Don't let go, don't let go... My fingers slip, my feet lag further and further behind the team. I need to hold on. Just a little longer... Suddenly, my right foot hits the sled's frame and I'm launched backward. I feel so heavy. I see my sled sliding away from me and Alexis, in the distance, getting ready to catch it. I fall, I roll... Some remnants of my aikido lessons from my youth come back instinctively, and I find myself executing a perfect forward roll (which I had never managed back then...). No harm done, I get up and run toward my sled, which Alexis has already caught.
He welcomes me, asking in one breath if I'm hurt and why I let go of my sled?!
We hit the road again, and I regain confidence at the second turn. It's all history now. Neither Horton, nor Gipsy, nor Mola, nor Modjo seem to hold a grudge against me. Feeling light again, I rush against the wind, gliding over the snow, carried by my dogs...
But all good things must come to an end. We have reached the end of the course. Back to where we started. Tired. Sore for some (like François who has fallen four times). But happy.
We detach the dogs from the sleds... Finally, Alexis releases them, and we catch our breath! Then comes the time for thanks: a handshake with Alexis and pats for all the dogs. Especially Horton, on whom I relied the most during this outing. My lead dog, my first dog in front. My impatient, nervous, powerful, faithful Horton! No hard feelings in his gaze despite all the commands I yelled at him. A deeply gentle look, a face that calls for cuddles.
The adventure, however, doesn't end there. No time to recover from our emotions: our program in the Jura Mountains still holds other wonderful discoveries for us...
To be continued!
Great Address
To do dog sledding with Alexis Champion: Free Sled (>)
Supervision by a qualified, competent, and especially passionate professional!
Website: Free Sled Location: at the exit of the village of La Pesse (direction Oyonnax), on the musher parking lot
And more information on the Jura Mountains website.
In partnership with Jura Mountains.