February 4th, 2017, a group of us from Eastern Maine Camera Club traveled to Greenville Maine to photograph the 10th (or 11th, there was some debate) Wilderness Sled Dog Race. This would be my second time in three years and it was every bit as exciting as the first. If you've never been I highly recommend it. You don't have to be a dog fanatic to have a great time. The excitement of the dogs is contagious and in the middle of a cold winter it really puts the "win" in winter! As soon as they line up for the start the excitement begins. In every direction there are dogs yipping and barking, wiggling and jumping. Some would think so much noise would be annoying, it's not. Somehow the message from the dogs is clear; "We are beyond excited and we are ready to RUN! Let's go!"
Then the team is released and the change is immediate and breathtaking, perhaps even spiritualistic. The dogs stop barking, they stop wiggling and they run. As they pass you on the trail it's magically quiet, the only noise you hear is the steady panting as they hang their tongues out to keep themselves cool on the 4 degree morning.
After getting home I shared my Wilderness stories with my friends and co-workers and a clear favorite emerged. I had walked up the trail searching for an ideal spot with a low angle and the right background. Off to the side of the trail I packed down a spot in the snow and made my self comfortable. Spotting a team rounding the corner, I pulled up my camera and prepared to shoot, checking the zoom, finding the focus point and then, click, click, re-zoom, re-focus, click, click. In the background I could hear the musher talking to the dogs. A stereo-typical musher, a tall man with a full beard, repeated the same phrase two or three times in a gentle voice, such as a mother would use lovingly with a baby.
It happened so fast I wasn't sure what he said. Further up the trail were more photographers. After he passed me I put the camera down and listened, I could hear him calling the same phrase again as he approached the other photographers. This time, without the distraction of the camera, I could hear clearly what he was saying; "Smile pretty girl, smile pretty girl". Here I thought he was issuing some important command to keep the dogs focused and on the trail, but no, he was telling the dogs to smile for the photographers. Later at home I processed the photos and immediately went to that series. Imagine my delight when I found the photo below!
In the beginning the dogs are running hard. After 30 miles, or in some cases 70 miles, the dogs have slowed down a little. Their noses iced up and frozen, their level of excitement never waivered. No matter if they are in first place, or last place, they are still focused and giving their full attention to the job of running.
Once the day is done the mushers all gather for an awards ceremony to celebrate their hard work and dedication. Something missing from the awards ceremony, the dogs. They don't care about the awards. They don't care about the recognition. They are all tucked away in their houses, resting after a long day of running, beginning the wait for the next one.
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