… after a glorious week of dog-sledding and skiing in Newfoundland.

I’m happy to report that I wasn’t eaten by the dogs, although I do appreciate the concern, Doc.

There were a few crazy-arsed moments when the dogs took off and I was left in the sled with tree trucks approaching at speed. (I want my blankie!)

Let’s just say that I enjoyed standing on the back of the sled “mushing” more than I enjoyed sitting in the sled while my dearest did the mushing and I did the yelling to “slooowww downnn, damn it!”

We sledded and skidded through wooded trails and over ice-and-snow-covered lakes, up and down hills for more than three hours. The day was perfect, about -1 or -2C with a brilliant March sun dishing out face-warming BTUs.

We lunched in a winter tent with a wood stove that we used to grill our egg-salad sandwiches. And for dessert we made maple toffee in the snow.

There were moments out there in the middle of nowhere when I identified strongly with the peoples of previous centuries who used dogs and sleds as their vehicles for chasing food and running away from predators.

Those huskies are amazing animals with energy to burn.

I have pictures which I will post in the next day or two when I’m caught up with all else.