In this Corner, Weighing 200 Pounds we have...: A Moosely Encounter

By Rebecca H. Savidis

At six-feet-four, he will hardly ever be classified as a featherweight, but with each stride, he was charging into the ring with a heavyweight ---and he knew it. David meet Goliath, Rocky your Apollo.

The final two miles of the eighty mile run brought a mental debrief of the day’s run distracting him from the frigid, well below zero temperatures that had crept into his arctic wear many miles before.

As he thought of who had done well, who might make the Iditarod team, and who, of the yearlings were still learning, the night’s black and blue winter landscape of the trail ahead began to move. Emerging from a tree well, the long, spindly legs of the young, male moose stepped into the middle of the dog team. Kicking, stomping. Growling, barking. Chaos.

High snowfall this season has led to moose seeking easier footing on local trails. With nothing more than bravado and bluff by moose, the team has been charged and chased several times this season. Yet, this, this was backing to the bluff.

As with car accidents, time divided. The mêlée yards down the trail occurred faster and faster---the moose would strike out, the dogs would respond in a like manner. Time between the runners of the sled and the tangle of the dogs and moose slowed. AJ set the hook and bounded for the front of the team with no weapon, no means to defend the dogs or himself. Man this is stupid. I should have grabbed my axe---A realization that hit as he neared the tangle of canine and moose. Too late.

He could not call the moose off the dogs, nor the dogs off the moose. The moose would not lose its focus on the mutts and chase the musher---his intent---better him than the dogs. Rebecca would understand injury and harm to him, but to the dogs?---unacceptable.

Turning to the dogs in front of it and then to the dogs behind it, the moose continued to kick and stomp. Holding their own against the unwelcome addition to the team, the moose turned to address the barking, snarling dogs facing down trail, presenting his flank to the oncoming musher. Without thought, he used the only defense he had. Himself. He rushed the moose and pushed the flank of the 800 pound hazard with every ounce of his two hundred pounds. Toppling over, the moose was now out of the dogs.

Fight finally gave way to flight. Running back to the sled, he pulled the hook before the moose could right himself and continue to do further damage. As the snarl of dogs started into their sprint, the only dog free of the tangle ran wide around the moose, including their assailant in the jumbled mass and dragging it for several yards before it finally cleared the sled and was free.

Several feet down the trail, he stopped to check the dogs ---all uninjured, and happy with wagging tails,---he untangled the tangle, his heart rate returning to normal as he did so. Keeping a watchful eye on the disoriented moose up the trail---he would be damned if there would be a round two---he saw the black and blue landscape move again as the moose returned to his tree well.