Friday night was about as far from the restrained elegance and hectic events of the evening before at Jennifer and Blake’s house as it was possible for Danny to get in Spearfish Lake.

Danny wasn’t quite a neophyte at the Warsaw Run – he’d been at the finish of the first one, after all, although that one hadn’t been intended to be a race, just a demonstration run. Tiffany’s father and Josh’s brother-in-law had started the 100-mile round trip to Warsaw and back with two five-dog teams, but on the way, both had come down with the flu. First, Josh had taken over for Mark at Warsaw, then, when her father fell sick on the way back, ten-year-old Tiffany took over for her father. Only in the last mile did it turn into a race, with Tiffany winning by the length of her leader’s nose and stamping her heart permanently as a dog sled racer.

That was the first Warsaw Run. This was the fourteenth, and a lot of water had gone down the river in the intervening years. Danny was really interested in seeing how it had changed, and as an extra hand in the Run-8 Kennels pit crew, he was going to have a better seat than most to experience what it had grown into.

Danny showed up at Josh and Tiffany’s well after dark, about eight, to help with the loading. In this case his help consisted of trying to stay out of the way as much as possible as Phil and Josh and Tiffany and Candice lifted the already-loaded sleds and gear onto a flatbed trailer, and then loaded the dogs for the three teams that would be running the race into the dog box, which had previously mounted on Josh and Tiffany’s big Dodge Ram pickup. It was a little confusing in the dark, but the four mushers obviously knew what they were doing.

About 10:30 they started for the Winter Festival site, where the race would start on the ice in front of town. Under the circumstances, they didn’t want the dogs to spend too much time on the dog truck, and they didn’t want to let them get too flaky around the mob of other dogs that would be present.

These were basically the second- and third-line dogs, Danny knew from the discussion with Josh and Tiffany earlier in the week – the best race dogs had already been picked for Phil’s Iditarod race a month away, along with a few spares, and were on a somewhat different training regimen. These were mostly younger dogs that needed the training, race experience, and evaluation, sprinkled with a few veterans of previous Alaskan races to lend some experience and steadiness and a good example. Many of the younger dogs had Nome in their future, a year or two or three up the road.

It would be the first time that Josh and Tiffany had been in the race since 1994, although the two of them had dominated it in the early years: Tiffany had won in 1988 with her father’s team, then in 1990 and 1991 with her own. Josh had won it the next three years. The two of them had been running under the Run-8 banner since 1990 – the name was derived not from the size of the teams, but from the wide-open throttle setting on a diesel railroad engine, which was part of their logo.

Now, Candice was wearing that logo for the first time in a long distance race – it was her first start at running this race, although she’d run in a few sprint races earlier in the winter. That made it the first time since 1993 that Run-8 had three teams in the race – that year was the first that Phil had run the race, starting with distinctly second-line dogs but with Switchstand on point, the greatest leader that Josh and Tiffany had ever had, their long-time sprint leader in his first start at a long distance race. Under his leadership, Phil had a thrilling race, managing second in a drag race to the finish, and permanently stamping him as a dog sled racer, too.

Things had changed a lot from then, and from what Danny remembered – there were over fifty teams starting the race, and the starting area was packed with people, trucks, dogs, sleds, and any number of other things. There was a good crowd over at the start chute despite the lateness of the hour. Phil found a place out on the edge, away from some of the confusion, and they began to lay out lines and unload gear.

In the early years of the race, it had started at sunset on Saturday night, allowing for the more difficult second half of the race to be run in the daylight hours, but as time went on, the time it took the race to be run shortened; Josh’s first two wins had come before dawn, while they were still warming up the griddle at the Lion’s Club Pancake Breakfast tent out on the ice. That cut into the crowd-pleasing aspect, so in 1994 the race start was moved to midnight on Friday, which meant that most of the racers would return Saturday afternoon, when the peak crowds were around. Other configurations had been tried over the years, but that seemed to work the best. "Kind of a shame," Josh opined as he explained it to Danny. "I really miss that running all night like we used to. It’s not uncommon to do it in Alaska, but here, under a real runner’s moon like we have tonight, well, it’s just pure magic."

"Maybe not this one," Tiffany commented. "I don’t know how much runner’s moon we’re going to have tonight; it seemed to be clouding up at sunset."

It had been a clear day, if cold; Danny was wearing most of the new outdoor winter clothes he’d received the previous weekend, and he was still chilly. But, he remembered the high thin cirrus mare’s tails hanging in the sky, too – always a harbinger of bad weather in the North Country, he knew from growing up there. "They said on TV we’re supposed to have a storm moving in," Danny commented.

"If it was that joker down in Camden, you never know," Josh snorted. "He’d tell you he had a ham and cheese sandwich for lunch when he actually had tuna salad, just to keep in practice."

Danny tried to keep out of the way while Josh and Phil and Tiffany and Candice went about what they were doing; occasionally he was asked to carry something or hold something. John and Shay and Cody were more help than he was, with the boys particularly interested – they’d be running sprint races on Sunday, and Shay would be eligible for a Warsaw Run start next year.

The starts got under way at midnight, two minutes between competitors; the order was settled by a drawing. Josh had an early draw, with Candice not far behind him, but Tiffany had to wait almost an hour before she could start. "The times are equalized by the length of the rest stop at Warsaw, so we’re all running scratch on the way back," she explained. "It’s usually considered better to have an early start, but the later starters have some pacing advantages, so it all works out. Back in ’90, I started dead last, led the field into Warsaw by a good margin, and never looked back."

"Yeah," Josh snorted. "But we only had like nine teams in the race that year."

"It’s even bigger this year than I remember from ’95," Tiffany agreed. "I was still in high school, and couldn’t take off all the months normally required for a successful Iditarod race, so I stayed home until just a couple weeks before the start, while Josh drove the dogs up to Alaska and trained them up there. I didn’t run here that year since all the good dogs were in Alaska. This is my first time back for this race, and it’s grown to twice as big now."

"Darn close," Josh agreed. "Does it seem a little small-bore to you now, Tiff?"

"Of course," Tiffany smiled. "Like the four-hour stop in Warsaw. We’d never do that in Alaska; we often have runs longer than that without a break at all. But most people here don’t train like the longer races require us to do, and they have a lot less experienced teams, so it’s a little easier on everything compared to what we’re used to."

It was just a little crazy getting the starts off, since Josh and Candice started so close together – they had to set up the two teams side by side, and it took all hands and a few available volunteers to keep everything under control. It was wild in the lighted start chute, people had to hold onto the dogs to keep them from going nuts from the excitement, but they were soon off into the night, first Josh, then Candice a few minutes later.

"Starting with bib number 18 is Candice Archer from Run-8 Kennels," Ryan Clark’s voice came over the PA system. "We haven’t seen Run-8 here much in the last few years, since they’ve usually been in Alaska training for the Iditarod when we hold the Warsaw Run. They tell me they’re just training some dogs and not trying real hard here this year, but Run-8 mushers won this race six times in the early years and took several seconds, so you can believe just as much of that as you want to." The dogs were excited, some of them doing four-off-the-floors in their exuberance despite being held on to, and they started hard out of the starting gate.

Once Candice was on the trail, John took the boys home – it was after midnight, pretty late for them – and Phil, Tiffany and Danny crowded into the front seat of the pickup to take advantage of the heater. "For a rookie, Candice seemed pretty confident," Danny observed.

"She ought to be," Tiffany snorted. "With those dogs she’s got on point, she could sit in the sled, work on her nails, and she’d still beat half the field to Warsaw."

*   *   *

A short while later, Tiffany was on the trail, and Phil and Danny were on the move. "I suppose we better stop at the 919 crossing anyway," Phil commented. "Josh and Candice should already have passed, but if something went wrong they’d be waiting. We’ll stick around and wait for Tiffany to pass, then head on up to Warsaw."

It was fun to sit in the warmth of the pickup and listen to Phil tell dog sledding stories. He didn’t have as much experience as Josh and Tiffany, but he had a little different viewpoint, and that helped make it interesting, too. Phil’s ’93 Warsaw Run had been a well-remembered adventure, and the story lasted clear out to the County Road 919 grade crossing, where many teams took breaks. Once there, Phil checked with the scorers there, and yes, Josh and Candice had made it through, and a cup of coffee later, so did Tiffany, without stopping. "They usually take a break farther down the line," Phil said. "We might as well get a move on. Josh and Candice are far enough ahead that we probably won’t be in Warsaw long before they get there."

In fact, they had to wait about an hour in the crowd of musher support teams in the old fire station in Warsaw, sipping coffee and telling stories before Josh arrived well before dawn, with Candice only a couple minutes behind him. That meant that she had gained about fifteen minutes on him out on the trail, and would restart for Spearfish Lake ahead of him, in seventh place! "Good going, Candice!" Josh grinned.

"I just let the leaders set the pace," she said. "I figured they knew more about it than I did. But, you’re right, it’s magic to run under a moon like that. I wished it could have gone on forever."

"It will do that to you," Josh grinned. "I thought it was a pretty neat run, myself. You just pretty much stand there, there’s not a lot of work to be done out there on the grade, not like the trip back, and it can get a little hallucinating, even. Not like as bad as you get toward the end of the Iditarod, sometimes, but just sort of drift off into another world."

Josh and Candice had four hours to kill in Warsaw, and dog care only took up a part of that. Remembering the old days of the race, Josh planned to try to get a little nap, but on general principles decided to wait up until Tiffany arrived. It couldn’t be too long, she had a good team, and was less than an hour behind them at the start. Much of that time had already been used in dog care.

But, Tiffany didn’t come, and Tiffany didn’t come, and Josh and the rest of them started to get worried. Josh asked a couple of the recently arriving mushers if they’d seen her, and they reported passing her a ways out, stopped alongside the trail, acting a little sick.

Tiffany wasn’t a person who got sick much, and both Josh and Phil knew it. Increasingly worried, they kept asking newly arrived mushers, and it was clear that she was still on the move, but with several other stops along the way. "Shit," Josh commented finally. "It reminds me of the first Warsaw Run, when Mark got sick on the way up here."

Finally, as the sun was rising, Tiffany pulled in. The dogs looked all right but she did not; her parka was streaked with vomit, and she looked peaked and worn. "Put ’em on the truck, I’m scratching," she ordered. "I started barfing right after I passed 919 and I’ve had to stop every fifteen minutes since," she added listlessly.

"Has this been going on long?" Candice asked.

"I’ve been kind of sick to my stomach all week," Tiffany reported. "No fever or anything, but just sick, barfing some. Lots this morning. I can’t figure it out."

It didn’t take long to get loaded, and Tiffany took a break to vomit behind the truck in that time. It wasn’t long before Josh and Candice had to start getting ready to head back, so they headed inside for a few minutes, and Candice went with Tiffany to the ladies room to help her clean up a little. By now, a drugstore was just opening across the street, and Tiffany went over to find something that would settle her stomach while the rest of the Run-8 people turned to getting Candice and Josh ready for the restart.

It was the first time ever that Tiffany had to scratch out of a race, and she was rather glum and not very communicative on the way back to Spearfish Lake. They still had to stop twice so she could use the side of the road, and by now the weather had deteriorated considerably. It was dark and overcast now, blowing hard, and spitting snow. Before they got to County Road 919, she told Phil, "You’ve got plenty of time. Why not drop me and the dogs at home, and then head back to the trail crossing?"

"Might as well," Phil agreed. "Try and get a little sleep, maybe that’ll help."

"Actually, the last few days, sleep has made it worse," she said. "If I get feeling a little better, I’ll drive out to the festival for the finish."

So, it was back to just Danny and Phil as they waited at the trail crossing, up the road a ways from the railroad crossing where they’d stopped the night before. They sat and yawned and sipped at coffee from Warsaw and told stories for a while longer. It took a while, but eventually, Candice appeared, running fifth, so she’d passed a couple of people since leaving Warsaw. She didn’t stop, but kept on pushing; fourth place wasn’t far ahead. A while later, Josh passed, running a solid eighth; he didn’t stop, either, but seemed pleased with the way the dogs were running.

With the two of them past the checkpoint, Phil told Danny that everything considered, Candice was now less than an hour out, so they might as well get a move on. They got back in the truck and headed back to the festival.

And, she was – they were standing out on the ice not long afterward, just as Tiffany arrived to join them. John and Shay and Cody were back with them too, not able to see very far in the driving snow, when her bright red parka with the "Run-8" logo appeared out of the storm, behind eight young but fast dogs, and two leaders that were legends in their own time – running fourth now! She had to have passed someone else on the way in.

It wasn’t a fast and furious finish, just the dogs trotting up the chute at a good trail pace, and Danny and Phil and the kids helped corral the dogs after the finish while John went to give his wife a big hug. Within a couple minutes, Ryan Clark had her at the announcers stand and commented, "Folks, you’ve heard of Star Trek – The Next Generation. Our rookie of the year is Candice Archer, otherwise known as ‘Run-8, the next generation.’"

"No, I’m not," Candice protested as Clark stuck the mike in front of her, with her proud husband and kids standing beside her. "I’m just the last of the first generation. The next generation will be running sprints tomorrow, and the first of them will be eligible for the Warsaw Run next year, my son Shay. And Cody will be along a couple years later."

"Sounds like a mom to me," Clark grinned, noticing the ‘Aw, Mom’ look on her older son. "Still, congratulations, Candice Archer, on fourth place in the fourteenth annual Warsaw Run, and rookie of the year. You’ve cut a fine trail for your sons to follow."

The excitement died down in a minute, and they turned to breaking down the team and getting things loaded. There was a few minutes for Candice to give her account of the trip back – Alco wasstill a hell of a storm leader, after all these years – and she freely said the lead dogs deserved more credit than she did. She just about had the story finished when Josh showed up, and then they had to break the other team down.

Before heading home, the whole bunch of them headed into the food tent for coffee and cocoa. They took over a table back in the corner, and a couple more stories were told while everybody gathered.

"Are you feeling any better?" Josh finally managed to ask his wife.

"I feel different," she smiled. "Candice, thank you for what you said, both up at Warsaw, and on the PA."

"You’re kidding!" Candice smiled. "That’s great."

"What?" Josh asked.

"When Ryan had Candice up on the PA, she called Shay and Cody ‘Run 8 – The Next Generation,’" Tiffany smiled. "Up in Warsaw, she told me that my barfing sort of reminded her of morning sickness, so I picked up a test kit when I went to the drug store. Josh, everybody, I still need to see Shovelhead Monday to be sure, but right now it looks like that while Shay and Cody may be the first of the next generation, they’re not going to be the last."

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