Remember my hesitation to hop on the dog sled when the thermometer was threatening frost bite? Seems I'm not the only wimp. According to Mike Arnold, who runs Adirondack Wilderness Adventures, they had no takers that day. In the warm lobby we chat as he keeps an eye on his dogs from the hotels floor-to-ceiling picture window. For at least 150 years, there's been dog sledding on Mirror Lake and is as much a part of the history as the frigid temperatures. Mike's been here the past 25 with his dogs, a mix of Alaskan husky and Samoyed. These blue-eyed wonders are quite literally born to run. Boredom, not fatigue or cold is the biggest obstacle for them. And probably for Mike as well.

As the air warms to barely bearable, Mike has a steady stream of riders - us included. I wonder if this ride can compete with the morning's bob sled run. But the two are so different, the only commonality is the word “sled”. I find myself seduced by the dogs. Their brilliant blue eyes and willing manner created a sense of excitement and adventure. Balto, named from the heroic dog that inspired the Iditarod, looks eager to get going. Six-month-old Finch, too young to join the team, barks every time the sled glides by. The pup and his uncle Atticus are named after Harper Lee's “To Kill a Mockingbird.” Mike's son AJ is so impressed I know the literary reference I'm too embarrassed to ask what a story of the Deep South has to do with dog sleds.

When our turn comes, we get on the sled. This time Andrew sits behind me and I'm glad for his warmth. We snuggle into the sled and AJ tucks a winter sleeping bag over my legs. Mike, standing behind, calls the dogs to action. The sled glides effortlessly over the ice. I hear the dogs pant, the ice crunch and the jangle of the harness. While I barely noticed the blurred ice walls that whipped by us on the bobsled, I soak in the snow-covered trees, the lake and kids playing pick up hockey nearby. After our five-minute loop, we tumble out of the sled. More Zen than the warp-speed bobsled, I see the allure of Mike's day-long excursions and moonlight rides.

We're in no rush to return to the heated hotel and spend a bit of time getting to know Finch. We're part of Adirondack history now even if we aren't sure what a dog named after Harper Lee's classic is doing in the frozen north.

Charmian Christie,
Outdoor Adventure Expert