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Winterdance av Gary Paulsen
Min
absoluta favorit. Året är 1982 och när boken börjar har Paulsen ett
spann för turkörning. Sen får han för sig att starta i Iditarod. Han
skaffar fler hundar och börjar träna mer målmedvetet. Vi får också följa
hans vedermödor under själva loppet där han till sist kravlar sig under
Burled Arch i Nome. En fantastiskt underhållande bok där man ofta känner
igen sig i olika trassliga situationer som Paulsen beskriver på ett
oöverträffat humoristiskt sätt.
Här tappar Paulsen taget om släden men lyckas ändock med hjälp av
snöankaret och lite tur hänga kvar efter spannet:
" Somehow the felt lining and heavy wool sock deflected the point [of the hook], slid it forward where it passed neatly between my big and second toe, then punched through the bottom of the boot. I went back and down off the sled, bounced once so hard it blew the air out of my lungs, felt a horrendous jerk on my right leg, and began dragging in back of the sled (or, as Ruth put it later, started trolling for wolves). I tried pulling myself up, grabbed at the rope, the hook, anything, hut it was no use. The snow and the speed of the dogs dragged me back and no matter how I fought I couldn't get up. Within moments my clothes were packed with snow - it came in my trouser legs, down my sleeves, around my neck. I must have looked like the Pillsbury doughboy, round and packed, hut it probably saved my life"
Men också en bok som ömsint beskriver de intima och känslomässiga banden mellan mushern och hans hundar. Garys ledarhund heter Cookie och det här citatet är på morgonen dagen då loppet ska starta i Anchorage:
"…so I opened the door of the dog box and reached in to ruffle her neck fur, feel her lick my hand, and I turned to say her name. But she was not looking at me. Instead she was gazing over my shoulder at the sun coming through the mountains, and she smiled. I know how that sounds - there are some who will challenge humor or facial expressions in dogs, hut they are wrong. She smiled often and she smiled then, studying the mountains, and I nodded. "Pretty, aren't they?" And the two of us quietly watched the sun come up over Anchorage, gently enjoyed the still moment (we could not have known it but that would be the last such moment for weeks, months, years), while I buried my fingers in the thick fur of her neck and wished there was some way to bottle this, take this back to others, this beautiful stillness before the race."