I have had broken sleep patterns for far too many years. By now, my circadian rhythm thinks that going to bed at 1:00 a.m., waking at 4:00 a.m., staying awake until 6:30 a.m., and returning to bed to finish my broken sleep until at least 10:00 a.m. is normal. Yeah, it’s a problem that I hope not too many people can understand. But for me, this is a reality.

                  I share this because most people wouldn’t think two ways about having to start an excursion at 8:00 a.m. After all, that’s the hour a large portion of the population starts work. But to a person with my sleep issues, this is a crisis. Add to that the fact that the room service folks did not understand that I wanted coffee only at the earlier hour and to follow up with breakfast later; I had one less workaround for my zombie brain.

                  Meltdown finally over, I managed to make the tour. Truly, God is the only One who knows how that happened, more than likely because He was the One who orchestrated the override. And man, am I glad He did!

                  This time our excursion took us into the Tongass National Park on a privately owned mountain that houses the AlaskaX Musher’s Camp® & Sled Dog Adventure in Skagway. At the general meeting point, we took a 9-mile ride through downtown Skagway and through what was at one time a settlement called Dyea (DYE-yay), unloaded (in more ways than one), then clambered up several steps into an open wagon, military-style contraption powered by a very loud grinding motor that sounded as if it would stall out at any moment. But no fear! The contraption took us to where the Alaskan huskies were impatiently waiting. These dogs were ready to exercise! And we were ready to ride!

                  Down the steps we went. I soldiered on by holding onto the rail with both hands and slowly step-thumping my way to the ground. The guides were very observant, and from that point on, they were poised to help me navigate any future steps.

                  I had visions of us riding in toboggans, perhaps two or three to a unit. I knew we were going to be driven on wheels, as there was no snow in this area in August. Wrong again. Not about the snow or the wheels: I was completely right about that. But wrong about the mode of transportation. This was a customized “sled” they called a Unimog. It held six adults in an open-framed conveyance with individual seats that looked suspiciously like chairs. I don’t know why they call it a sled since it has wheels, and not runners. Interestingly, our musher called this Unimog a wagon.

                  Actually, considering there were seven people in our wagon/sled/Unimog, the 16 dogs that pulled us did an excellent job! Some of them tugged; some of them just loved the run. Some of the dogs in training were potential Iditarod competitors, at least at this point. Two of our dogs were past Iditarod champions, retired. They just loved to run, and they actually made good trainers themselves. Our musher stood like a coachman of times past on the back of the wagon. We ran the dogs for a mile, then stopped.

                  The musher gave us a great deal of information about Alaskan huskies. The thing I noted as most important was the fact that an Alaskan Husky is a breed of its own. I was extremely glad to learn this because when we first saw the dogs, they really looked like we were at a dog pound. In a way, I was right. That’s because an Alaskan Husky is made up of a Siberian Husky as a base, then up to 40 different breeds that could be added to the Siberian breed. The dogs that were pulling us are training for racing and endurance, and those of us who sign up for the excursion are the weight. They train for endurance and get speed and distance in the process.

                  After we reached the end of the mile run, we were allowed to get out of the wagon and pet the dogs. One dog (known as the troublemaker) was a real hoot. His name was Torch. I had worked my way up to the older dogs near or at the lead, as most of the other riders were fawning over the dogs nearest the wagon, which included Torch. Finally, I got to greet this great schmoozer.

                  Torch was so excited, you would have thought no one had paid any attention to him! Indeed, this guy is an attention-hound! He very much enjoyed my pets and compliments, then thanked me by stepping on my foot!

                  As an apology of sorts (sure, I’ll take it as an apology), he then proceeded to roll around on his back—still in his harness, mind you—and looked up at me with a silly expression, tongue lolling out one side. I liked Torch very much. But I was also a little glad when it was time to play with the puppies.

                  Another guide gave a presentation and introduced us to their grand dame, whose name is Keisha. Keisha was a champion, but at age 10, she is now retired.

                  Then off to “the shark tank”—their name for the four-month-old puppies. No one was encouraged to pet these pups. They had earned their moniker as “sharks.”

                  Finally, we were introduced to the 5-week-old puppies. Now these were darlings! This litter was named after characters of NCIS. We were told that each litter had a theme, and this particular litter was given names from the original version of the popular television show. My housemate B and I got to hold McGee. Another lady was doing her best to hold on to Ziva. Ziva was extremely lively and liked to chew on everything. But McGee was a cuddle-bunny! He was sooo tired! Both B and I wanted to take him home. But, of course, we couldn’t. Not to worry! McGee is safely back with the mushers. B is praying that he grows up to be a champion.

                  I could never have dreamed of this wonderful experience! I was so delighted, I had no idea of the bruise Torch had given me. Bless his little ol’ heart.

                  I thank God for this experience. From meltdown to endearment is quite a journey, but it was a journey for which I am eternally grateful.

                  A day of rest followed. Thank God again! But today (I had to skip a few days for this series) is our last day and night here, and we have to be fully packed and ready to get up, throw on our clothes, and disembark at my favorite time of day: 8:00 a.m. Yay. ß Insert sarcasm here.

                  But first, we port in Victoria, Canada, and I am determined to temporarily disembark, put my foot in Canada, and then be qualified to say that yes, I have been in Canada.

Prayers and plans written just before we left.

                  I pray our trip home will be uneventful. At least I now know what to expect, so I will be able to apply a workaround for my zippy brain. I know that First Class just means that I won’t be as squished as the rest of the people in Main Cabin, and I will be praying for the same safe and peaceful passage as coming out here.

                  When we get home, B and I will take turns with the washer and dryer. We have decided to wash everything. But aside from that, I will be offline—mostly. I plan to sleep for about three weeks after this trip.

                  Except for Tuesday week, when I have a phone interview appointment covering some very needed information about the Christian/Messianic Southern Gothic novel I am working on. Turns out one of the fellows I went to high school with is the CEO of Charleston Jewish Tours. A large part of the book is set in South Carolina in the 19th century. And yes, Charleston is featured as well. What better way to confirm or redirect my thoughts about the story! Another praise to the Father!

                  We have been back home now for a week. This is the first time I have felt like sitting at the desktop computer and editing my posts. Thank God for my writer’s group! Anyway, two days after getting home, I started feeling ill. On Tuesday, I was running 102.4° F. On Wednesday, I learned I had contracted COVID. That Tuesday phone meeting has been rescheduled.

                  Looks like there will be an “It Was a Trip of a Lifetime! But I Didn’t Even Want to Go – Part 5” addition to this series! The fun never ends!

                  Keeping the faith!