Over a mile of trails with some impressive hills, Dax tethered to the bicycle helping to pull his old Pops, Peter.
On our return leg, Garrett loped past a big stick that moved. I screamed to him to whoa, he turned and ran past it again. This time it got into strike position. I left the crew up on the trail and went to investigate if it was friend or foe.
Definitely friend, but big and in the way.
Little road block cleared, we could continue our journey.
Guess who decided he wasn't into being head sled dog anymore? Just about gave myself a coronary pulling Peter in sand and up hills. Thanks Dax!
At least it tuckered him out for the rest of the day!
Garrett enjoyed being off in the lead, which is rare as he starts off strong and ends up at the back of the pack.
Peter had the look of: "why is everyone so winded?".
