Day Four: Umsaskis to Chamberlain
Togo 261 Solo Memorial Dogsled Expedition
What I’m about to share with you is embarrassing. In fact, it’s taken me a few days to write this entry because I debated whether or not to include this self-deprecating story. But I want to take my readers on this adventure with me in every possible way, so I have decided to share everything. Therefore, before I tell you the story of day four, I must backtrack to share the events that transpired after I climbed into my sleeping bag on night three.
If you recall from day three, I reached the ledges over Umsaskis Lake and Jeremy the videographer was not there. He had been held up by the storm. Before I went to bed, I fed the dogs my entire supply of human food—beef jerky, Keto Balls, everything. They ate it all willingly. I had not eaten or drunk anything, and I had pushed myself hard physically. I was punch-drunk from exhaustion, dehydration, and lack of sleep.
Shortly after I retired to my tent, Trevor the ranger arrived with Jeremy. I emerged from my tent to find resupplies for the dogs, but Jeremy had accidentally grabbed the wrong tote for me—it was full of camera gear instead of food. He had, however, brought a smooth bottle of Scotch gifted to us in Allagash. We took two or three sips by the fire for an interview. In my weakened state, the alcohol was a recipe for disaster. Within minutes, the world began to spin, and I became incoherent. I had to crawl back to my tent, fighting a paranoid delirium that Jeremy was trying to poison me.
I woke up on day four with remorse—remorse for my splitting headache, and remorse for failing my dogs. They need me to be at 100% so that I can be the “ninth dog” and care for them properly.
Before I departed, Trevor the ranger brought a bag of “pigs in a blanket” his wife had made. I ate a few and gave the rest to the team. We then launched out onto Umsaskis Lake, ascending and then descending to Churchill Dam.
Here I made a course decision that cost me dearly. Instead of following the ranger’s fresh tracks through the woods, I turned onto Churchill Lake immediately. The temperatures had risen significantly to 35°F—too hot for the dogs—and I was met with breaking trail through fresh snow and, worst of all, **overflow**.
For those who may not know, overflow is a condition where the downward pressure of heavy snow pushes water up from under the lake ice to flood the surface. Depending on the depth of the snow, the overflow can be several feet deep.
Day four and five were a slog through deep slush and snow. My team found their second wind, except for Sawyer, our blind Seppala Siberian. Sawyer lost his sight to Lyme disease years ago but usually has incredible drive. However, wading through slush for hours took the confidence out of him. When the going got tough, Sawyer would shut down. I would take him off the team and place him in the sled basket, where he added weight to our already heavy load while the rest of us slogged through the slush.
Two-thirds of the way through day four, I reached the famed **Ghost Trains** of the north Maine Woods. In 1927, two massive steam locomotives were brought here by oxen to haul lumber. Coincidentally, 1927 was the same year Leonhard Seppala brought Togo to Maine. To see these abandoned behemoths marked the point where my journey into the North Woods ended and the journey out began.
We trudged through the slush until darkness set in. As the sun set, the temperatures dropped, the slush hardened, and our speed increased. We arrived at Nugent’s Hunting Camp on Chamberlain Lake, where the owners, Rob and Stella, greeted us. After the dogs were bedded down on fresh straw, I discovered homemade mac and cheese with bacon waiting for me in the cabin.
I have one more embarrassing story from after I went to bed this night, but I’ll save that for Day Five.
I hope you are enjoying the narrative of my expedition. If so, please consider helping us raise funds for a Togo Statue at the State House in Maine:
