Charlotte came by and we did what I almost never do alone, ran the dogs before sunset. And we met one team (the astounding world champion Marte) followed by a single bikjorer.
Though my dogs didn't attack, they certainly veered a lot to the left.
A lot.
"Damn!" the bikejorer said.
I am beyond swearing in these situations. As long as nobody gets killed, I am one happy musher. If I started swearing for stuff like being pressed into a ditch, I would never stop cussing and swearing.
You know, I really should set higher standards.
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