Quality Time aa mom,mom, a mom,a boy,a boy, a a boy, big adventure a big a big With the help of some sturdy dogs and a fast sled, I gave my son a memory to treasure. BY HELENE STAPINSKI • Photographs by donald lesko
Dean had been listening to my stories since though she didn’t always reciprocate. Some he was a baby: stories about Mommy mushing times I missed those first few years with dogs in Nome, Alaska, where she had once Dean, when we could go out to lunch or a worked as a news reporter. Stories of Mommy museum in peace and quiet, without covering the Iditarod, landing with a pilot on Paulina—as charming as she was—tap frozen rivers to interview the sled dog racers. dancing in the middle of it all. She was a That was the me before Dean. Fearless and scene stealer, and he had graciously given up free. Pre–worry lines and stretch marks. his starring role in our home. Getting married and having Dean, and then But this weekend, this trip, would give the his little sister, Paulina, had curbed my two of us some much-needed time together. adventures, had made those 20-something On a Saturday morning in March, we met memories seem as if they had happened to up with Polly Mahoney of Mahoosuc Guide someone else entirely. But now things were Service, her two assistants and eight other about to change. Adventure was coming back mushers to begin our adventure. The night into my life, with Dean as my excuse. before, 10 inches of snow had blanketed the Though I hadn’t been on the back of a dog ground, providing a perfect path for Polly’s sled in 13 years, I decided to take my son on dogs and the sleds they would pull. our own mushing expedition in New England. Mushing in Alaska, I had never worried It would be a day’s drive from our home in about freezing and losing a toe. But now, with
OPPOSITE PAGE: Helene and Brooklyn, New York, to the Mahoosuc Dean by my side, I started to get a little her son, Dean, bond on the back Mountains, on the border of Maine and New nervous. He, of course, was too excited to of a dog sled in New England. Hampshire. Dean, a typical 7-year-old, loved notice, jumping around in the snow and petting ABOVE: Maeve, one of their new snow and loved dogs even more, so I thought our seven powerful Yukon huskies as we husky friends. he’d adore mushing. hooked them up, one by one, to the gang line. Ever since Paulina’s birth four years ago, I got on the back of our sled with Polly, a Dean had nobly played the role of big charismatic woman with a sun-tanned face brother—surrendering the toy they were and welcoming manner that endeared her to fighting over and sharing his ice cream, even dogs and guests alike. Dean climbed into the
60 HALLMARK MAGAZINE february/march 2008 “I wanted to sear this scene into my brain, to keep 7-year-old Dean with me forever. ‘How long will it be,’ I wondered, ‘before he no longer thinks it’s cool to hang out with his mom for an entire weekend?’”
december/january 2 0 0 8 HALLMARK MAGAZINE 59 CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: Helene gets Dean ready for their wintry adventure; a team of huskies pulls the sled; Dean settles in for a ride in the sled basket; marshmallow toasting warms the cold late-winter night; two dogs howl, communicating with others across the frozen lake; mother and son swap stories over dinner; a fellow musher clears the entrance to a tent. Quality Time
basket—the front part of the sled, where into my parka pocket. The tooth fairy our bags were stored—then turned would have to wait until we got home. Kid-Pleasing around and grinned, a loose front tooth About a half hour later, we hit our dangling inside his anxious smile. destination on the banks of frozen Lake 4 Getaways “Tighten up,” Polly said quietly to the Umbagog. The sun beat down, illumi- EL CAPITAN CANYON near Santa dogs. They pulled at their lines and got nating the ice and nearly blinding us 1 Barbara, California: Camp out in cedar into position. “Let’s go.” with its ethereal glow. cabins equipped with gas fireplaces and And off we flew. Dean squealed and “Wow,” Dean said. “It looks as if God down duvets, or “rough it” in canvas safari tents (complete with electricity for I hung on for my life and wished I could lives there.” a heater and lamp). From $125 per night see his face. Because I knew what he After unloading our packs, I led him for a tent, elcapitancanyon.com. was feeling. The first time I had gone through a clearing in the trees to get a THE HIDEOUT AT FLITNER RANCH mushing, I couldn’t believe the rush look at our accommodations. It was like 2 in Shell, Wyoming: Take your cowboys I got from the dogs, the incredible stepping out of the wardrobe into and cowgirls (ages 11 and up) to one of freedom and speed—like riding nature’s Narnia, right into Aslan’s camp. Five the largest working cattle ranches in the roller coaster. sturdy white canvas tents sat crouched West. Four nights from $1,785 per person (double occupancy), thehideout.com. You teach your children how to talk beneath a canopy of snow-covered firs. and walk, how to read and write. But “I love this place,” Dean lisped, taking NANTAHALA OUTDOOR CENTER in Bryson City, North Carolina: Learn to then the fun begins! On the back of this it all in. “Can we stay here?” 3 canoe or kayak from world-class instruc sled, I was squealing right along with “This is where we’re sleeping tors at the center’s Paddling School. Cabin Dean, reliving past glories—and passing tonight,” I said, pointing to our tent. lodging from $120 per night, noc.com. my passion on to someone I loved more Dean’s eyebrows rose nearly to the U.S. SPACE & ROCKET CENTER than the world itself. edge of his parka hood as he smiled his 4 SPACE CAMP in Huntsville, Alabama: Ten minutes later, Polly stopped the jack-o’-lantern grin. Defy gravity, build rockets or take off on team with a gentle, “Whoa.” After cutting a hole in the frozen lake simulated jet-fighter missions with your child as copilot. Parent-child weekends “OK, Dean,” she said. “Your turn.” and carting about a dozen buckets of -left center shot). from $399 per person, spacecamp.com.
FAR “Me?” he asked, thrilled but incredulous. water, our group searched the forest for ng i We switched places, and Dean joined firewood. We sat down for dinner in the lud C x Polly on the runners. “Now, hold on biggest of the tents. “I hope we’re not me forever. “How long will it be,” I E tight,” I said, turning around to look at having corn on the cob,” Dean said, grin- wondered, “before he no longer thinks a.com ( him. He looked so small back there. Oh ning. His lost tooth was the talk of the it’s cool to hang out with his mom for an bi God, what if he fell off? tent and brought us dozen strangers entire weekend?” But before I could interfere, Polly closer together that night. That night, next to a wood-burning whispered to her team, and Dean was We lit a bonfire out on the edge of the stove, we slept in a double layer of ean.com; colum b flying, laughing even harder now. ice and told stories of lost teeth, lost sleeping bags atop a floor of fallen fir Maeve, the lead dog, led us into a trekkers from past trips, rescues and boughs. As the dogs howled in the dark, wood of snow-draped spruce trees, the adventure. Sierra, a fellow musher, said Dean dreamed he had mushed across trail soft and silent, the lines jingling this was one of her first trips solo— America with our whole entourage. He like tiny sleigh bells. The team picked without the kids. Her children were would regale everyone at breakfast the up speed as Dean bobbed and wove like grown-up and on their own. next morning with his dreamy tales. a boxer, his head ducking beneath tree “Do you miss them?” Polly asked. By tomorrow evening, we’d be back to branches, his legs balancing through all “Yeah,” she said. “But it’s like you our regular lives. But for now, as we lay
e: courtesy of thenorthface.com; ll the drops and climbs. And then, cook ’em and they’re done. They grow safe in our tent, I held my son’s hand— b suddenly, “Whoa.” up and there’s no going back, really.” warm and still small—in mine, and
Wardro Polly hit the brake as Dean yelled, I watched as Dean toasted marshmal- thanked him for coming along. “My tooth!” On a bump, he had bonked lows and, with his stick, chased the fire’s utton. S his chin on the wooden handle of the sparks, which flew up into the darkness Helene Stapinski is the author of Five- sled and knocked his loose tooth out like fireflies on a summer night. Except Finger Discount: A Crooked Family on: Brad i onto his neck warmer. He gave me a it was 18 degrees and a week before History. For Mahoosuc Guide Service prizefighter’s grin as I wiped the blood spring. I wanted to sear this scene into information, call 207-824-2073 or visit
Illustrat from his mouth and tucked the tooth my brain, to keep 7-year-old Dean with mahoosuc.com.
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