Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
After lunch (open-faced roasted chicken breast sandwiches), Carl says hopefully, “Want
to take a last snow machine ride?” Nancy and Susie decline, but I, great anti-snow ma-
chine activist that I am, say “Sure!” We head out on, get this, the Iditarod Trail, yup, the
same trail over which Herbie Noyukpuk and Susan Butcher and
NOT TWO WEEKS BEFORE
four-time champion Doug Swingley had mushed their dogs to Nome. I can't believe I'm
doing this, either.
After a fifteen-minute run down a small hill and alongside a river, Carl pulls up. “You
want to try Snow Machine 103?” he says, hooking a thumb behind him.
I take one look at the track, which disappears into trees that are growing out of a slope
that seems to go straight up to Betelgeuse, and blurt, “Oh god, oh god.”
Carl has perfected the art of selective hearing and takes this for assent. “Great!” he
says, “let's go!”
And we go, straight up, only not straight because the trail, the width of a snow machine
track, mostly, winds back and forth through a dense growth of evergreens, and not up be-
cause sometimes it goes down, precipitously. It does go on forever. I am terrified, and ex-
hilarated. This time, I do not let go or fall off. Back at the lodge, I give up trying not to
glow. The plane comes to take us home, and I drive the snow machine down to the strip,
pulling Kirsten and Carl in the trailer behind.
At Winterlake Lodge, Carl makes you believe you can snow machine and mush sled
dogs, and Kirsten makes you believe you can cook.
Like I said.
Magic.
Kirsten's recipe for Gougères
1 ½ cups all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon grated nutmeg
1 teaspoon sea salt
1 cup water
7 Tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into cubes
4 extra large eggs
