Running North: A Yukon Adventure [Englisch] [Gebundene Ausgabe]

Alaska is more than just the largest state in the Union; it's also a state of mind, as Ann Mariah Cook found out. Together with her husband, 3-year-old daughter, and 32 purebred Siberian huskies, she moved there from New Hampshire in order to train for the legendary Yukon Quest, the most rigorous sled-dog race in the world. Her tough, thoughtful memoir, Running North, chronicles the ordeals as well as the rewards of their mushers' life. In the course of their transformation from cheechakos, or greenhorns, to sourdoughs, or seasoned Alaskans, Cook and her husband learned to defend themselves and their dogs from extreme weather, adapted to mushing in Alaskan conditions, and even absorbed the niceties of Yukon social customs (hint: always put on a pot of coffee for visitors). The book ends with a harrowing account of the race, complete with packs of wolves, howling blizzards, minus-60-degree temperatures, and a few narrow escapes. But this is as much Ann's story as it is her husband's, and as a result it goes far beyond the confines of a simple adventure story. Full of intriguing glimpses into sled-dog (and musher) psychology as well as lyrical observations about the beauty of the Yukon landscape, Running North is as much concerned with the who and why of adventure as with its how and when. Leaving behind the comfort and security of Cook's New England life required a multitude of adjustments, from the design of the dogs' booties to a new appreciation of interior decorating, Alaska-style. In the end, however, it was going home that proved hard: "Returning to New Hampshire, I saw my life as a stranger might view it. I could not get used to so many houses, so many neighbors, so many social demands. Everything in my life had been redefined in only seven and a half months." --Mary Park

After years of competing in northeastern U.S. dogsled races, Cook and her husband loaded up their three-year-old daughter and their 33 purebred Siberian Huskies and drove north for a seven-month odyssey of first training for, then finally racing in, the 1,000-mile Yukon Quest. It is this race, not the Iditarod, that professional mushers consider their sport's ultimate challenge. With its lovable dogs, vital support players, and weather conditions that make standing outside dramatic, the Yukon Quest offers a plot to make authors drool. The trick is to stay out of the story's way, and Cook does so deftly. Before long we're hooked, no longer questioning premises like sled dogs' desire to be harnessed for pulling. Despite the cruelty, weakness, and insincerity Cook exposes, this remarkable chronicle of the grueling Yukon Quest remains a vivid illustration of the soaring potential of both human and canine character. Dane Carr

Another entry in the vast how-I-survived-an-Alaskan-winter literature. Cook and her husband, George, came to the bush on something of a whim: athletes with a fondness for books of adventure travel, they bought as a pet a Siberian husky, began to research the breed - s contribution to polar exploration, and decided to take time off from their lives in the lower 48 to take their dog - and 31 other huskies that they - d acquired - off to do a little exploring of their own. Some of that exploring had to do with understanding the ways of the Alaskans they encountered when, for instance, trying to rent a house, an ordeal of which Cook writes with just a little too much self-pity; some of it had to do with learning to weatherproof their dwelling and vehicles, to dress for the often dreadful weather, to acclimate to loneliness and distance. The real adventure begins somewhat late in the narrative, when the Cooks enter their now well-trained team of dogs in the thousand-mile-long Yukon Quest, billed as the toughest dog-sled race in the world, far more grueling than the more famous Iditarod. Cook - s account of the race is full of grumbling feuds between competing sled-drivers, full of minor misadventures ( - George heard the zipping sound of Velcro. Something flew past his face. His mittens! - ) and minor triumphs - which is, of course, the way real-life adventures take place. The upshot of the story is that the Cooks finished the race, the first non-Alaskan team to do so. That very real accomplishment is not quite enough to fuel this book, which lacks the punch of other recent adventure-travel titles set in the north country. (Book-of-the-Month Club/Quality Paperback Book Club selection) -- Copyright ©1998, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved.

Cook has written a captivating account of her family's participation in the grueling sled-dog race known as the Yukon Quest, which supposedly surpasses the better-known Iditarod in toughness and danger. Her account of watching her husband struggle to complete the race against overwhelming odds is compelling enough, but her book is much richer than that. Whether she is writing about their move from New Hampshire, their first tentative forays into Fairbanks "society," the training of their dogs, encounters with moose, or the often less-than-hospitable climate of Alaska, Cook presents her information in a flowing, highly readable style that takes the reader on a journey most will never attempt. Young adult readers will find Cook a worthy role model, while adults will appreciate the detail she brings to even the most mundane events. This suspenseful, humorous read will have readers anxiously awaiting more. Highly recommended for high school and public libraries.AJoseph L. Carlson, Vandenberg Air Force Base Lib., Lompoc, CA
Copyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc.

YA-In 1991, Ann and George Cook, their 3-year-old daughter, and 22-year-old niece moved from New Hampshire to Alaska to train for the Yukon Quest International Sled Dog Race, an event even more grueling than the Iditarod. They took with them only the bare necessities in a truck and trailer that also held their 32 Siberian huskies. Alaska presented real culture shock: jerry-built houses, odd attitudes, a make-do culture, and a constant fight with the elements. The saving grace was that, like frontiersmen everywhere, people helped one another in the mutual need to survive in a hostile environment. The first half of the book is a fascinating look at the physical and cultural shift from L. L. Bean-land to one where ratty parkas were held together with duct tape. This part also tells of the dogs and the months of preparation for the race. The second half alternates between the race itself, as run by George, and the handler's side of it at the checkpoints as seen by Ann. George came in last, which they more or less anticipated, but simply finishing was a triumph. Despite the lack of a course map to orient readers, YAs who enjoyed Gary Paulsen's Winterdance (Harcourt, 1994) will find this tale exciting.
Judy McAloon, Potomac Library, Prince William County, VA
Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc.