It is a strange, white world. There are only the most basic of elements: ice, rock, sky, weather, man, dog, food and shit. It is a completely artificial place set in geologic time where the pulse rarely quickens, and cruise ship tourists believe to know what it is like to ride a dog sled in the great wilderness of Alaska.

The first time I see the dog sled camp, I am high above in a helicopter, cruising up the Mendenhall Glacier. We have just rounded Mt. McGinnis, and Juneau, the rain forest, Inside Passage, and any sign of advanced civilization falls away. What we are left with is rock, the crush of blue ice, and sky, which at present are foreboding and the exact color of the snow below. Quickly approaching, nestled in a bowl high on the glacier, is a grid of doghouses - attached to jumping, barking dogs - surrounding what look to be white houseboats.

As we hover momentarily, the tourists in the front seats pass a camera back and forth, put on fur-lined mittens, adjust designer sunglasses, and reapply heavy hued lipstick. Unlike them, I am not here to have an Alaskan sled dog adventure. I am visiting my friend, Laura, who spends her summers working as a dog handler on the glacier.

Laura is pint sized with a steely work ethic and a soft heart. For years, she was a coxswain on the US Rowing Team; nearly competing in the 2000 Olympics in Sydney. She now is a special ed teacher, certified Ashtanga yoga instructor, and surfs whenever she is near the coast. She first heard about Alaska Ice Field Expeditions four years ago during a trip up the Inside Passage. In a bar in Skagway, she met a helicopter pilot who told her he flew tourists up the Denver Glacier to go mushing. He told her that if she was interested, he could offer her an introduction to the owners. This is her third summer with the company. For Laura, working in Alaska has allowed her to buy property, and to start building her home in the Colorado mountains.

Touching down to a cacophony of whirling blades and barking dogs, I find Laura, while my fellow passengers are whisked away for their tour. This includes a brief introduction to the history and culture of mushing in Alaska, a cursory look at a dog yard (where thirty dogs are chained in long rows, each with their own house, and food and water bowl), and, of course, a ride on a dog sled. Their stay lasts for a little under two hours and costs close to five hundred a person.

For Chris and Dan Turner, who own and operate Alaska Icefield Expeditions, the camp is not just about the tourists. Summertime on the glacier allows dog handlers to make good money and gain experience as mushers, provides an opportunity to train puppies in a noncompetitive environment and gives young people from around the country an introduction to the life of mushing and a unique summer job in Alaska.  Read More...