Blue Ridge Country - January/February 2015 - 39

MUSHING HUSKIES
THROUGH WESTERN
MARYLAND
I hear them before I see
them. It's like nothing I've
ever heard before: a cacophony
of howling resonating
eerily through the Western
Maryland woods.
"What's making them do
that?" I nervously ask Mike
Herdering, retired Marine,
who has met me at the head
of his driveway. He's standing
very still, listening
almost with reverence to the
baying. He looks down at
me, grinning.
"You are," he says.
The howlers, I see, when
we reach the yard a few
moments later, are 14 brilliant-eyed,
lush-furred
Siberian Huskies, somehow
managing to make the otherworldly
racket while
engaged in sniffing each
other, lounging on the roofs
of their doghouses and other
time-honored dog activities.
They quiet down when they
spy the intruder - me -
arriving with their master,
"Colonel Mike." We're
joined by another visitor,
Iditarod handler and dog
enthusiast Nancy Hermle,
and Mike's wife and fellow
dog-musher, Linda
Herdering.
Deep in the pines of
While our readers' favorite mountain experience may well be
views from the Blue Ridge Parkway - here in North Carolina -
there are many other great to-do's in the following pages.
Garrett County, the
Herderings run Husky
Power, a business dedicated
to educating folks about
dogsledding. It's the kind of
dedication that sometimes
compels Mike to sleep in the
pen with the dogs on winter
nights and Linda to talk for
hours on end about the joys
of dogsledding.
Thanks to the
Herderings, I'm about to do
the improbable: I'm going
dogsledding. There's no
snow, so we're "drysledding"
in a metal rig.
"It's in their genetic code
to pull and work. They're
athletes," says Linda, as the
Huskies are harnessed and
attached to the gangline,
connecting them to the sled.
I'm OKed to pet the dogs
but they ignore me. They're
sleek bundles of anticipation,
ready to run. We take
our places in the rig. It's
time to hit the trails.
"Ready - hike!" Mike
barks.
We take off with a lurch
that jolts me into hyperawareness.
We're going
uphill but the dogs are moving
at a velocity usually
associated with emergency
vehicles. Becoming airborne
seems like a possibility. I'm
whacked by a gauntlet of
weeds overhanging the
brush-lined course.
The pace slows just in
time for dogs and rig to
expertly navigate a series of
thrill-ride-level hairpin
curves. Then we halt.
It's my turn to command
the dogs.
I stand, feeling like an
imposter. I deliver a feeble
"Ready - hike!" in what's
barely an outside voice. The
team, unimpressed, hesitates.
I have zero trail cred. I
think I see one dog roll its
eyes.
On my third try I manage
the command with more
authority - and volume.
The huskies bolt. I'm part of
the team, and the ride is
exhilarating.
Later, Mike lets me hop
out and run ahead. The
photo I snap is a blur of
motion, but as the dogs
charge toward me what I see
is a pack of happy, tonguelolling
goofballs, elated to
JANUARY/FEBRUARY 2015 | 39
ISTOCK PHOTOGRAPHY/WERKS MEDIA
Blue Ridge Country - January/February 2015

Table of Contents for the Digital Edition of Blue Ridge Country - January/February 2015
