I hate to even mention it. It's not something you talk about in polite society even though it is a natural part of life. While many words have been used to describe it, I was raised not to use the 'f---' word. So out of honor for my parents, I will use a synonym: flatulence. It has been the butt of many jokes (that pun's for you, Chris!) over the years, mainly in children's circles. Tonight was no exception.
The bus to the Tromso Wilderness Center picked me up out front of my hotel a wee bit before sunset to head out to my next adventure: dog sledding. I hadn't really thought about dog sledding as an adventure I wanted to do, but when given the opportunity, I went for it not quite knowing what to expect. I did have a picture in mind that involved a sled, a team of dogs, lots of snow and me bundled up in the sled under a warm reindeer hide. While that picture did come to fruition, the reality was far different than what played out in my mind's eye.
A friend of mine who went on a dog sled ride in Alaska had told me about the phenomenon of 'pee running', where the team of dogs learn to pee on-the-go, running with three legs while the remaining leg balanced in mid-air at a 90 degree angle to do the deed. A dog's need to pee while on the 'road' had never crossed my mind so on my adventure, I was on the lookout.
We were all given snow suits and warm shoes to put over our clothes to keep us warm and boy, did we need them! A gentleman from Australia, John shared a sled with me while his daughter, Sally, drove an empty sled. I snuggled into the bottom of the sled with a reindeer hide covering my legs while John sat on a seat behind me.
Our team of 14 dogs and us were off with two other sleds in front of us bound for the snowy wilderness on the outskirts of Tromso. Twilight had settled over the city, giving the sky a bluish tint which seemed to cause the city lights to come to life as well as myself. But any remaining amount of jet lag that lingered in my body was swiftly knocked out as our trail turned to a hilly, bumpy path of ice, causing me to go airborne on more than one occasion, making me thankful for the heavy reindeer blanket over me to hold me in. Through virgin snow and brush-lined paths we went, bumping and banging along when it was like I hit a brick wall of horrendous odor, smothering my face better than the feeble attempts of my scarf. I had no doubt what it was because they were all staring me right in the face - dog behinds.
They don't tell you this and maybe it should be common sense that when you're sitting in the dog sled, you're at the same level as the dogs which allows you to have a good view of the dogs in action in every sense of the word. While I did witness 'pee running' which I must say is a pretty amazing feat, my friend failed to tell me what happens when the dogs need to go 'number 2'. They did what looked like a 'running squat'. It was nowhere as graceful as the 'pee running'. I felt bad for them.
It seemed my team of dogs had to go quite frequently, especially the ones right in front of me. I think one of them had a spastic colon. It reminded me of the Seinfeld episode where Kramer took George's fiance's parents on a horse carriage ride and the horse let loose something fierce because Kramer fed him Beefaroni.
I grabbed my scarf and smothered it over my nose and blew air out my mouth to help repel the foul odor but that just caused my glasses to fog up. So we're gliding and banging along the path, my glasses are semi-fogged up and my hand is freezing even with gloves on as I try to hold the scarf over my nose which gravity keeps pulling away, all the while trying to keep myself from slipping in my seat. I gave up on taking pictures by this time. It was too dark for action shots and besides, this was about survival. John, sitting behind me used me as a barrier, the little bugger.
While it was lovely being in the snowy wilderness under a clear, star-lit sky, I had never been so thankful to see the lights from where we started our adventure. However, I can now scratch dog sledding off my scavenger hunt list.
After the sled ride, we got to hang out with what seemed like a couple hundred dogs all friendly and barking, hold puppies, and have a traditional dinner in a lavo (teepee) from the Sami people, the Scandinavian equivalent of our Native Americans. The warm fire that greeted us inside the wood lavo was welcomed, along with the hot soup, reindeer meat that tasted like pot roast, cooked veggies, chocolate cake, and hot coffee. The tour guide asked the group how they liked the dog sled ride. The others raved on how excellent it was. John and I glanced at each other from across the fire and both said nothing with this rule in mind: "If you don't have something nice to say than don't say anything at all." We did comment on how wonderful the meal was. However, amidst the chatter we heard a ruckus outside and quickly discovered we were not alone.
Another group that was with us had stepped outside of the lavo only to be greeted with the faint whisperings of Northern Lights overhead! They seemed to appear and disappear at a whim in the sky, almost looking like a faint wisp of computer green clouds. After dinner, I grabbed my tripod and camera, found a snowy seat on the ground and started taking pictures like I had practiced at home in the backyard, hoping to capture them, even in their faintness. I was excited to discover I had, even though they are a bit grainy. It was such a surprise to see them and on my first night in 'Northern Lights' country. My anticipation grows as I continue to venture further north into the Arctic Circle as a higher intensity show is expected provided clouds do not obstruct them. It was a wonderful way to end a not so pleasant-smelling experience.
As I boarded the bus back to my hotel and settled into my seat, something didn't smell so well. I sniffed some more. You know the saying, "If you smelled it you dealt it?" Well, I swear it wasn't me. It was the dogs! I smelled like dog flatulence! When I got back to my room, I made a hot bath and soaked in my lavender-smelling bath wash. That is one memento I do not wish to take with me.
So if you are planning on going on a dog sled ride, don't say I didn't warn you. You may consider driving the sled. Perhaps the air is better up there.
No comments:
Post a Comment