A shuttle bus came by, picked us up and took us a few miles to the dog sledding place.

At the entrance was this huge adorable husky with big bushy fur. He was like the godfather of the place, alone and guarding the entrance. Once you walked into the compound, all you saw were hundreds of dogs and their tiny little dog houses, each with their name painted on the top.

We met our guide Audrey. She let us hold some husky puppies, and then gave us a quick rundown on how the sleds are operated. She told us how to steer them, put on the breaks especially on down hills, get the dogs to go and stop, everything you needed to know about how to mush a sled in one easy lesson. She also made special note to warn us also to never get off of the sled without either having the brakes on or the sleds being tied to a tree. Otherwise the dogs would take off and head for home and you'd be doing a cross-country skiing adventure without the skis.

After about ten minutes we were each outfitted with our team of six dogs.
Audrey and her dogs led the way. Followed by the sled with Jamie and Steve; Spencer and I took up the rear.

To get the dogs going you can either say, "Go, Go, go", "Hike" or "Ari Ari" which in French means...get a move on little doggies. (Okay, that's a rough translation.)

Audrey told us that the dogs LOVE to pull the sleds. She wasn't kidding. As soon as we yelled our first command, all the dogs in the place started howling. I mean all of them, except the godfather dog, who kept his cool. It was like they were all yelling, "Take me, take me."

The trip started out nice and slowly. It took a few minutes for me to get the feel of the sled and for the dogs to trust that I knew what I was doing. I was driving at this point and Spencer was in the sled. After a while I was one with the dogs...I'd yell, "Hike" and they'd go immediately.

The scenery was gorgeous with snow ladden trees, crystal clear sky and a one lane path to eternity. My dogs were anxious to run and kept winding up near Steve's butt. So to remedy this, several times I held them back until Steve sled got way ahead. Then I'd let them run wild to catch up.

The first half-hour went great. At the midway point Audrey asked if we wanted to change drivers. Sure, why not. Let the kids drive. Couldn't be any worse than me teaching Spencer to drive on the busy streets of New York.

Jamie and Spencer traded places with us. I couldn’t see how Jamie was doing...but I was right there with Spence.

At one point I told him to hit the brakes because we were too close to Jamie's butt. Nothing like a side seat sleigh driver.

Spencer held the dogs back and they were getting slightly antsy. Just at the moment he yelled "Ari, Ari" the dogs saw another dog sled team below us on another path. The dogs started to turn off our path and make their own path into the woods. I yelled, "Hey you dogs. NO. Stop that right now. Get back on the trail."

To my amazement...they did. Spencer yelled "Ari, Ari" again. They bolted straight for the woods. Now we're careening down a hill and almost hit into another dog sled team. The guy yells at us. "You're going the wrong way." Yeah, no kidding Sherlock.

Meanwhile, back on the other path, Steve and the gang didn't know we had veered off.

Since all these trails were only wide enough for one way traffic, there was really no room to turn around. We stopped the sled and just in case our gang was within hearing distance we shouted, "Steve, Audrey, Jamie...we're down here." After a few times and no response, we decided on plan B.

"Okay, Spencer here's the plan. You stay on the breaks and I'm going to try to turn these dogs around."

So I got up from the sled, headed to the front dog and start pulling on the ropes to turn them around. They dogs had no clue what I wanted. I started talking to them. "Come on guys, you have had to been in the position before. Work with me here."

At this point the dogs started jumping over each other and getting tangled in the rope. This wasn't working out as planned.

So I tried it again. I started to get them turning off the one lane trail, when I realized the snow on the side of the trail was deep. Very deep. For a short, 5' 2" person like me it was, thigh high deep. Since I didn't want to have to carry the dogs, I was pondering my next brilliant move.

"Well Spence, this trail has to lead back to the gate eventually; maybe we should just follow it. Let the dogs lead us back."

Just then Audrey comes running up from behind..."There you are!" "Yeah, sorry about that, the dogs seemed to want to check out the landscape."

Soon Audrey and I had the sled turned around. Of course, the sled ran over Spencer's leg in the process. He was okay, but not a very happy camper. He no longer wanted to drive.

Within minutes we were back taking up the rear of our three-sleigh caravan. We were going along fine and then came to a down hill section. Audrey stopped and announced, "Okay gang we have some challenging hills ahead. Remember to ride the brakes a bit, because gravity will take the sleigh faster than the dogs can run. Also, lean your body weight into the turns so you avoid the trees." Sounds like a good plan to me.

The first few minutes were fine. I'm leaning and turning like a pro, making sure we aren't going too fast. All of a sudden I see the sled is going up on the bank of the snow lane. I lean all my weight on the left ski of the sled, trying to brake also as we go down. I'm leaning as much as I can and at that moment I realize... "We are definitely going to hit that tree." I couldn't jump off and leave my son without a driver. So I hung on, leaning as far as I could and BAM! The right corner of the sled hit the tree. On impact the dogs were airborne, the sleigh tipped sideways,
my left breast hit into the sled and I was flung into the snow. Just the weeble position I didn't want to be in.

I could have made snow angels if my left breast wasn't throbbing so much. I called out to Spencer. "Are you okay?"
"I hit my head, but I'm fine. Not for nothing mom, but I'd say you failed your road test." "Listen, don't talk...when you were mushing, the dogs headed south of the border."

We both just laid there. In minutes, Steve was by our side. I thought about asking him to take a picture of us on the ground but he looked too worried. "Are you guys okay?" "Spencer's okay and outside of a left breast that probably looks like a Picasso painting, I'm fine. Let's just get back on the sled and ride."

Audrey looked worried. I assured her we were okay. Honestly, what was I going to say? We were in the middle of the woods in Quebec somewhere. It wasn't like I was going to be air lifted back to base camp. At this point I thought, "Man, they weren't kidding on that release form." Images of the movie Eight Below flashed through my head.

For the second time on our dog sledding adventure we had to shake off our little diversions. We ride a few more minutes and then Audrey announces, "We have another batch of hills coming up. Please take it slowly, no more adventure."
"Don't worry, I have enough material for a stand up act already." I asked Spencer if he wanted to drive. He decided to put his life in my hands one more time.

We make it down a series of hills with some pretty sharp turns. I was very proud of myself...I avoided all shrubbery and trees. We were now on level ground again. Just when I thought it was safe to dog sled in comfort...I see Audrey running toward our sled, waving her hands and yelling, "Get off, watch out. "

I'm thinking what did we do now? Is she going to leave us here in the middle of the woods disgusted with our driving? Maybe I should have taken that igloo making class instead.

Finally when she sees I have no clue, she yells. "Turn around!" I turn around just in time to see a team full of dogs with a runaway sled, coming at me full speed. Inside the sled is a little old lady all bundled up.

I jump to the side, and the dogs come right up to where I was standing. I swear the dogs were smiling. Audrey gets on the sled, and holds down the brakes to slow them doggies down. I move our sled up to give us some breathing room.

Meanwhile, the old lady is just sitting there like Mr. Magoo, without a clue that she just came down a big hill without a driver. She has a deadpan expression on her face. We couldn't tell if she was in shock, or just clueless.

Turns out, her guide who was driving the old lady's sled, had to help another sled out in her group who was having trouble. The guide tied the sled with the old lady to a tree and went back to help the other sled.

While she was doing it, the dogs got antsy when they saw us zooming by. They pushed forward, broke loose from the tied tree and gave the old lady the ride of her life.

After a few minutes the other guide comes running up.
"Mam are you okay?" The old lady with a very heavy accent responds. "You zoom down the mountain. I didn't know you weren't there. I go swish, swish. Let's do it again."

"Audrey looks at me and shakes her head, "Never have I had so much an adventure in one trip." "Yeah, me neither."

As they say, three's the charm. We made it back to original starting point with no further incidence. After a cup of hot chocolate and some home made molasses cookies, in a heated tent, we headed back to the ice hotel laughing at our adventure.

Back at the ranch, we stopped at the gift shop, got our complementary gift and some souvenirs, We said our good byes and thank you's and checked out.

As we drove out of the parking lot we looked back one last time, knowing that in a few months this exact hotel and the room we stayed in, would be gone forever pushed into the river, only for the cycle to begin again next year. Now that is truly a one of a kind experience, and to have that on earth, well in a nutshell...how cool is that!