Dear Work,

How should I describe you? I haven't really said what an average day of work here is like. Mostly because there is not an average day. Each day is unique from the rest. Part of that is due to when tours are scheduled and part is working with live animals.

One thing is guaranteed though. Every morning I wake up around 6:45. Some days I go for a jog and some I'm lazy and just write in my journal or cherish the last few minutes in my cozy cocoon. At 8:00 it's time to visit my 46 fluffy friends. I walk from the caravan through the barn, cutting on the water, and round the corner to the kennel. There's something special about saying "Good Morning!" to a pack of stretching, yawning and yapping dogs. The wagging tails and excitement gets me every time. Judge and Odyssey are closest and always get the first pat. Narnja across the way makes her usual "oooooooh" noises as I walk to get the wheelbarrow and trusty shovel. I get the same shovel every time. It has a smooth wooden handle, a curve towards the bottom with a flat rusty blade and then a T grip up top. By now all the dogs are up. I start with Judge and Odyssey and work my way down to Jake and Magyuk scooping, spraying and filling bowls. Jake by the way is a funny dog. He's really shy but likes a pat. He'll look at you and then look away slowly getting closer while wagging his tail. After that row it's on to Maniitok and Mauricette down to Jasper who lives alone. I always have to pause along the way to say Hi to Nukilik the gentle giant. He does look down on me when standing and looks quite fearsome. But he's just a big puppy. A dog that didn't forget his childhood. When I walk away he'll turn his head sideways and wave his paw asking for me to return. Most of our dogs do this, it's really cute. Then it's on to my last row, Nilak and Nanooq down to Graumann and Nikita. Nilak and Nanooq like their brother Nukilik are giants. Graumann is another character. He's always grumpy. He growls a lot but he's just misunderstood. He's a good guy. His roommate Nikita is a sweetheart.

Cleaning and watering all the dogs takes me between 30-60 minutes depending on the poo situation. Afterwards on most days it's back to the caravan for a hot drink and breakfast. Sometimes though we have a tour at 10, no break these days. We offer tours at 10, 12, 2, 4, sunset and midnight. People go for midnight to gamble at seeing the northern lights while out. A typical tour costs $160 which sounds steep but after tax and dog expense only $3-4 out of every $10 is profit. To prepare for a dryland tour we get the cart (2 people) or trolley (3-6 people) ready. This means rolling it out next to the chain, attaching a gangline and puting concrete blocks in front of the tires. This is when the dogs get excited. They know they're about to run. You can feel, and hear, the joy. Next we bring out the harnesses for whichever team is being taken out. You take the harness and step into the cage to place the dog between your legs before slipping it over his/her head. Most dogs will pick up their paws when you ask for them to put through the holes. Once dressed you take the dogs to the chain, lead dogs up front and wheel dogs in the back. The front two are smart or should be. They listen to commands. The two behind them are the swing dogs, they help steer. Between the swing and wheel dogs you have the team. Your wheel dogs drive, they're your real power. When its time to go you ask the customers to hop on to add extra weight before you put the dogs on the gangline. The dogs will listen for the "Ready? Ok!" go command but they're so excited they might run off without you. Extra weight helps. On the gangline you hook them by the back of the harness as well as the neck. It's pull or be pulled. Slackers bring down the others' moods and makes for a slower run. When it's time to go the lead dogs are unhooked from their cement blocks while the ones from the tire are removed. Then the dogs are off!

While the tour is out unless I go I usually take time to do additional cleaning and make sure the dogs have water. Some days I may do a little grooming. Or if like today a family member stays behind I'll chat with them. Every now and then folks are driven to us by a guide service called Eskimoes. The driver that comes to us is named Karlina and she's fun to talk with. She thought my confusion over the company name was a real riot. In my ignorance I expected real Eskimoes. I look forward to her visits but she may be done for the year, we'll see. She once invited me to sit in the company Range Rover to warm up and it was this moment that I realized how much I smell like a dog. Next time we sat in the barn. When the team finally returns I'll help guide them in. We unharness the dogs while one person goes into the kennel. Once unharnessed you can let go of the dog, say "In", and they head for their home. People love watching that part. This process repeats on days with multiple tours. And no weather is bad enough to cancel. Rain, snow, shine. Or like today with a bit of a dust storm. In Iceland. Who knew?

On days without tours I spend most of my time grooming or walking dogs. Often there is an odd task to be done like strengthening the kennel walls or cleaning the barn. There usually isn't much of a schedule. At some point I'll take another break for lunch and maybe some journal writing. After this I'll work until it's time to feed. Feeding can be stressful. The dogs know when it's coming. When you chain up the first dog they go wild. We chain the dogs up so they don't fight over the food and they know this means dinner time. We bring out the bowls and place them in front of the cages then go down the lines filling them with food. Different dogs get different portions depending on how hard they work and how quickly they gain weight. Of course food goes in and poop comes out. Unless it's raw meat. They hang onto that. But usually afterwards it's scooping and filling water bowls. It's anywhere between 4-8pm when we finish and I'll eat my own dinner. The rest of the night is listening for a possible fight and checking in on the crew.

Breaking up a fight is unfortunately part of the gig. 90% of the time the dogs are calm. Maybe some barking or minor arguments and lots of howling. They're like roosters that howl. But every now and then it gets rough. You know it when you hear it. Most of the time you get there and pull them apart before any damage is done and life continues. Sometimes you show up and someone is missing half an ear like poor Jaquan. Aquilles got a snack. And rarely you get some bad news. Like when Iceman went to the vet to get put to sleep to have a couple teeth removed but didn't wake up. Life can be hard. The dogs can be a source of just as much sadness as joy. But it is mostly joy.

Working with this pack of dogs is something I'll never forget. I'll probably think of it often for the rest of my life. Like the description said it really is more of a lifestyle than it is a job. Every day I feel lucky to be saying "Good Morning!" to the kennel. I just wish they pooped a little less.

Sincerely,
Zeb

Dear Ennio,

It has been great getting to know you and I'm really glad that you were here on the farm.

Ennio is my 17 year old German buddy that lived in the caravan with me for three weeks. For the past 21 days we spent a majority of the time together. We ate breakfast, lunch and dinner together. We walked dogs, cleaned the barn, scooped poop, cleaned the kennel and fed the dogs together. His bed was three feet away from mine. I've since taken over that bed because it's a little closer to the possible internet connection we have. Despite my slightly greater chance of having internet I'm sad to see him go.

I won't act like adapting to this lifestyle has been the easiest thing. In fact the first week was pretty hard for me. Suddenly I was away from everything and everyone I know. It was a strange farm where the dogs outnumbered the people 44:3. In the first few days Ennio and I didn't talk much. Of course we were polite exchanging good nights and good mornings, casual conversation. We went on cart rides together and chatted some. When we were put to the task of walking dogs we started out walking at different times. At some point there was the realization it may be more entertaining if we walked together. So Ennio and I began taking out dogs that get along two at a time. I believe this is the point we really became friends. And that friendship helped me settle into life here.

I learned a good bit about what life is like when you live in Germany and you're in high school. I also learned about Germany in general. Ennio is very on top of things politically, something that surprised me. I hope I seemed as smart at his age. We talked about all kinds of topics from gay rights to Germany's position on shipping weapons. He would read a lot of articles that we would someties discuss. One of my favorite Ennio moments was when he read one about a cross between a donkey and zebra. Only he didn't know the word donkey and asked me.. "How do you say.. It goes eee-ahhh?" He's also encouraged me to do a bit of hiking in his country. There is a 285km trail that runs through the black forest that I now plan to hike when I visit. Originally I was going mostly to see my friend Cinthia but now I may also run into Ennio. His name by the way is Italian. He was named for an Italian writer and not the composer. In my ignorance I know neither but hope to one day know both.

We also spent time making light of our isolation here. For a few days there was a lot going on, there might have been 10 people total! I joked with him about the possible motives behind their arrival. Are they police who have pinpointed the barn as a murderers body dumping site? Will we be questioned? It turned out the property has been sold and they were just here to begin moving things. Siggi just rents the land. We had thought it might be interesting to be questioned by Icelandic police. We hear the jails are quite nice.

We also dreamed of adventure. Along our walk you see an island in the middle of the river, it'd be fun to visit. There are folks building a house there piece by piece. We often see them drive by or on our walks. Ennio didn't find my idea of stealing the boat for a joyride too good. But maybe one day one of us would walk to Keflavik from here. Or we could take bikes to Selfoss or the waterfall nearby. One adventurous dream we fulfilled was a bath in the river. On a sunny day during a lunch break we walked down and hopped in. It wasn't too enjoyable but it was an experience.

And we talked about the future. Our travel plans and what we'll be doing later on. He's somewhere in Reykjavik right now. Afterward if I remember correctly he's off to Holland with his family before starting a year of general studies at university. His parents like mine were both involved in teaching. I told him about where I'd like to visit, where my friends are and my planned expenses. He had some solid advice and sounded hopeful about my budget. And he gave me travel pointers while teaching me some about geography and the metric system. For instance I learned I could take a train from Norway to Germany but it's not practical as you must go around a sea. You're better off with a ferry which may take two days and drop you off in Denmark. Or just fly.

No matter the topic of our conversation I enjoyed it very much. Thank you Ennio for teaching me quite a bit and being my friend here on the farm. I hope our friendship continues. Good luck travelling in Reykjavik and try not to worry about the volcanic eruption too much. I know you will. Find someone to buy you a bit of Icelandic beer, relax and let me know how it is. And most of all good luck at university. I know in general studies you will find something you're passionate about and excel at it. You're a bright guy and I hope there are more younger dudes like you out there! I think tonight I'll boil water for two, I'll drink your tea. Or would you have had hot chocolate?

Sincerely,
Zeb

Dear Siggi,

You're a great guy. I've met a lot of people but you're certainly one to be rememered.

Siggi is the bossman. He's the alpha dude of the dogsledding business. Top dog. He's also not quite what you might expect when you imagine someone that would own their own sledding kennel. I tend to imagine that typical guy in some action movies with big attack dogs. Siggi isn't the tallest, loudest, most jacked guy around. In fact he is a bit of the opposite. He's on the shorter side, speaks softly and is slim. But there's something about him. When he talks you listen. He was a policeman for something like 16 years and I'm sure he was good at it. And he's a father. His son is about to enter college and his daughter Mary Lou is two. And while not really important I'll say for my own memory that he's a smoker. You can often tell where he is from the scent of a lit cigarette. Seeing him smoke one while we wait for the dogs to quiet down during feeding will stick in my mind for a long time.

So how did this university educated policeman and father of two become a dogsledder? He says it was almost by mistake. One day he was working on the glacier as a snowmobile guide and saw a team of dogs running. Not long after when browsing the internet he saw an ad for a dogsledding company for sale. He passed it up and kept browsing. When he saw the ad again he took a closer look. It was the company he saw on the glacier. A while later and he was the owner of Dogsledding Iceland. Siggi bought 16 dogs and the remaining 11 were put down. In hindsight he thinks he should have gotten the other 11 too. However 27 dogs seemed like a bit too much at the time, he now has 47. If it wasn't for Siggi there wouldn't be a professional kennel in Iceland anymore. He was trained by the previous owner, a man from Denmark that worked in the military. Training was harsh when he started. You did three runs as a trial. The first you were on skiis with the sled watching. The second you guided the sled with an experienced musher to help out. The third you were doing the same but this time the musher made things more difficult for you. It was tough and you worked hard. There was one man that didn't know how to ski. He spent every bit of time outside work and 6.5 hours of sleep learning how. It's still tough but not like it was. Siggi wonders if "maybe we've gotten soft."

Things were different then. Just walking into the kennel was enough to make the dogs hunker down and be quiet. Now they wag their tails and yap. They might be happier but maybe there is more fighting and disobedience too. It's a fine line between their happiness and what is safe. There is a lot of trial and error and Siggi always strives for improvement. The dogs diet is part of this. From a processed putty like substance to meat to kibble. The putty was too nutritious and full of energy. A litter raised on it grew too big too fast and many suffered health problems. Meat causes a well... stinky dog. And they would hide bits of bone that might cause fights later. Now there's the kibble, it seems all right. It's made in Reykjavik for Greenland but we get some here. The dogs eat 26 20 kilo bags in 2-3 weeks, that's half a ton.

Physically and emotionally Siggi always tries to do what's best for the dogs. His commitment and passion is clear. In all these years he could only remember a couple of times he came close to quitting. Once was while trying to keep the dogs alive during a volcanic eruption. They required constant care during the event as he tried to wet the ash and keep it down, keep the dogs hydrated and build shelter. The second time was on the glacier. He went up with three others and eleven days later he was alone. They quit, it was too hard. While giving a tour he injured his knee twisting it 180°. He continued to work on his own caring for 20 dogs while hurt. One of the days a line got loose and a fight between all the dogs broke out. Siggi believes this is the only time he has had to really yell for help. A group of people were 100m away but they didn't come to assist him. Somehow in the end he was able to break up the fight without help and with his injury. Despite these difficulties he keeps going. He doesn't like to quit or give up. Siggi has said before that "we make things work here, that's just what we do."

So this one is for you Siggi. Everyone could use a little bit of what he's got. His drive to keep going, the compassion he shows for his dogs and his ability to adapt. Also some of his humor. Whether intentional or not a well timed toot during a serious discussion on the consistency of poo had me out of control with laughter. Maybe we could each use a few catch phrases too. It's almost a guarantee that you'll hear him say "it's a joke", "it's just a fact" or "the fault is" once per day. At least. It's just a fact.

Anyone that is able to spend time with him and learn from what he has to offer will gain some insight to life. I consider myself lucky to be one of those individuals. He has told me all kinds of great stories from skydiving to stinky dogs and upset vets. I've written it all down and will certainly try to share in the future. He's a true character which is something I think we need more of in the world.

Sincerely,
Zeb

P.S. I thought I was good at scooping poo but this man is a legend. It's like watching a master at work. One quick fluid scoop and no use of the boot, a sight to behold.

Dear Caravan,

You're my home away from home. Right now I'm sitting inside your shelter on my bunkbed writing this post. I don't know much about you but I do know you're from Oregon, or so your license plate says. Maybe that's why we get along fairly well? We're the only Americans on this farm.

The caravan I call home isn't anything fancy. It's a big red metal box. It has one door, many windows, a small table, 2 bunk beds and a small kitchen. At some point in its life it lost the step outside the door. We're safe from visits by the elderly as it would be a real hassle for them to enter and exit. I know this because even at the age of 22 a good jog can make me feel as if I'll never make it in or out. Once you have tackled climbing in you'd find yourself standing in our kitchen. Don't be alarmed by the constant buzzing, it's just the flies. Other than the flies in our kitchen you'll find a number of luxurios appliances. My favorite is our refrigerator. It's powered by propane and acts as a small space heater while somehow keeping our perishables at a cool temperature. I still don't understand it. Next to the fridge is our sink. There is no tap and a slight leak from the bottom, it's rarely used. All water comes from the barn, we carry it in in jugs. The first time I filled one up the water pressure nearly blew the jug out of my hands. Below the sink is a small stash of canned goods. And next to the sink you'll find our burners which are all, the three of them, powered by gas. They get the job done and boil water quickly. At the front of the kitchen there's a built in shelf which is where we have our dishes, pots/pans and more food.

Let's pretend you're staying for dinner. Ennio and I may cook up some gourmet Hólmasel cuisine. Just the other night we had one of our specialties, goop. It's a few canned vegetables, lots of garlic, lots of onion, some pasta sauce, cheese (it's put on everything) and of course pasta. Pasta I quickly learned is vastly different from noodles. Noodles are Ramen. Pasta is pasta. Feeling adventurous? Try some mystery meat. What's in it? Ahh, we can't read Icelandic. Don't ask. While you may be concerned don't be, I haven't eaten anything yet that I didn't like. Somehow it always works out.

Plate in hand and with a large quantity of pink cocktail sauce squirted on everything we'll head 6 feet over into our quaint living/dining/bed room. It's all very convenient. You can sit on either sofa you'd like. The one on the right is my bed and 3 feet away on the other side of our coffee/dining table is Ennio's. Be warned if you pick mine I have some socks hanging to... air out. If you feel inclined to spend the night you can have either top bunk. If you've come late we'll be having a romantic battery lit dinner. While yes we do have electricity we don't have lights. After dinner if you'd like to be a good guest and assist with the dishes just grab some toilet paper and give everything a nice wipe. Need to use the bathroom? #1 behind the caravan is ok. #2 a short walk to the barn and you'll find a lovely porta-potty. Take some dish washer with you, you never know. We won't hear you yelling for help.

I surely haven't encourged many of you to come by for a bit of tea tonight. But in all honesty I enjoy my small red box. I look forward to coming in in the evenings eating dinner and crawling into my sleeping bag. Sure when it's windy it feels like we're out at sea which is why we have plastic where our door window should be. The wind took that from us. And yes there are flies. Maybe (definitely) it even smells odd. But in a weird way it's comfy. It's my home away from home.

Thank you for being you Clifford the big (small) red caravan.

Sincerely,
Zeb

Dear Dogs,

You're pretty cool. At first I wasn't so sure that we would be getting along. I was thrown into a new world and a new lifestyle. From airport to scooping dog poop in around 4 hours. Having only slept a very uncomfortable 2.5 hours on the flight was certainly not helping. The bus ride from Keflavik to Reykjavik took around 45 minutes. We went from the coast through lava fields into the outskirts of town. I almost dozed off but knew I'd want to stay up to see all of the trip and I'm glad that I did. Sitting in the bus station I saw many young folks carrying backpacks like myself come and go. Not too much waiting and Erik, a Dutch musher that hates Holland, was walking in and asking "Charles?". Yep, that's me.

We hopped in what appears to be a minivan on steroids and took off. Another hour drive through what looked like more lava fields and we'd be in Selfoss. I couldn't help but picture all the rocks as Fairy houses after reading some articles about road routes being changed to avoid them. Driving up Erik pointed out a red caravan that I should toss my stuff into. Then it was off to meet the 44 big furry critters. They're wonderful. And did I mention big? These guys and gals aren't your typical dog. They're bred to work. I've never been close to a wolf in person but I now have a pretty good idea what it might be like. When Nukilik stands up he's looking me in the eyes. Just about all of them are. Some are even a bit taller. At first I saw the eyes of a predator. But not anymore. I see brown, friendly, almost human eyes. Asking for a scratch behind the ear or on the neck. Wondering if it's their turn for a walk or to be harnessed up and get to go to work. I wish everyone could love work as much as these dogs do. The moment they see a harness enter the kennel there's an explosion of excitement. Tails wag and whining begins. In these moments it can be easy to forget how dangerous they can be. Like the bossman Siggi says, you have to set them up to succeed. Brutus is one of our largest dogs, a huge Alaskan Malamute. He hates every male dog. If you put them in a situation where they can make a mistake they almost certainly will. Brutus is a happy fluffy guy but if you walk him too closely to another male on the way to hook him to the cart you've got a fight. Not a friendly fight. Not a play fight. But a legitimate fight to the death. Siggi once broke a shovel over a dogs head and he kept on fighting. It's not a mistake you want to make.

So we try to set the dogs up so they can't fail. And when we do that we get to have a pretty great time. We're a 1km walk from a huge river fed by glacier ice melt. Round trip it's my favorite walk to take the dogs on. Eyjafjallajökull is always in sight on a clear day. So is Hekla, one of Iceland's most active volcanoes. Sometimes I get to take as many as 8 dogs out in a day. That's 16km or around 10mi of walking. My feet certainly get tired but my eyes never do. Even when we go out on the road with the dogs there is always something to see. And there's nothing like the feeling of jogging along the team and helping them follow the musher's commands. Except maybe one thing. Dog Scootering. Sometimes if I'm lucky I get to harneness up a dog and hook him to a scooter. And really, really, there's nothing like that. As soon as you say "Ready? Ok!" and let off the brakes you're flying down the road. It's spectacular.

All of the fun of course has a price. I'm a pro poop scooper. Not to brag but I'm pretty damn good at it. I can hold the shovel in one hand and be in and out of the kennel before the dog even knows I was there. We fill a wheelbarrow or two per day. We could fertilize every farm in Selfoss. I've pretty much picked my favorite and least favorite dogs based on their poo. For example I quite like Hetja. Hers is always a compact little package easy to get on the shovel with very little residue. Akira on the other hand has serious mud butt AND likes to walk while pooping. Not my favorite dog. But one scooter ride or walk later and ya know, I remember it's not all shitty.

I've been fairly bad about updating this! Hopefully I'll be changing that. Soon I'll try to tell you about where/how I live, the folks I live with, my favorite dogs and more! I type all of this on my phone so it can be hard. If you have any questions though please ask! I do love to talk.

Sincerely,
Zeb