I come from the countryside in Belgium from a small town near Brussels. In 2011 I packed up my things and left my life in Belgium behind to move to Stockholm for a masters degree in political science. Life is too short to simply sit around and wait and dream. I never truly found my place in Belgium and I never really knew what I wanted to do in life. No one around me seemed to know either what was to become of me. I have always had quite a pull to the north, not knowing why. Once I got to Stockholm I quickly started roaming the wild places around the city. I realized that the freedom that lies in the great outdoors is what I was always missing and looking for but never found in Belgium.
The challenge that lies in putting yourself out there and surrender to the elements had a huge drag on me. Eventually I was outdoors so much that I realized I was not meant to be a bureaucrat nor an academic and I left once more, this time for a guiding job in Arctic Sweden. This is how I first got in touch with sled dogs. I worked there for three winters. This is also how I ended up in Norway, as I filled my summer seasons with a job on the famous FlĂĄmsbana train.
I kept my life flexible with seasonal jobs. I lived very simple, in small staff accommodation or in cabins without water or power. I tried to challenge myself more and more with expeditions in New Zealand, Australia, Nepal and also in Norway. Through everything I kept thinking about the dogs. Huskies have such a dignity to them, such character. I missed them. I always figured I’d have at least one at some point, some retired sled dog.
I took Bull with me while stuck in Sweden trying to ski the length of Norway. That was the beginning of it. It was really cool having him, I took him skiing and running and hiking. But one is just one and it’s hard to go sledding with one retired dog. Mushing had crept so much into my blood that I could never really let go of it, so I decided to start my own team. I did not have much ambition in the beginning. Just keep it as a hobby and be out with the dogs on my days off.
When I went to pick up the next seven dogs I was offered a racing sled. I laughed and said no no, racing is not for me. I am not a competitive person. But I am. About six months into running my own team I decided that I wanted to make it to Finnmarksløpet, the most prestigious long distance race in Europe, within 5 years. I finished on the second attempt during the fifth winter of running my own team.
What drags me to these long races is the challenge they bring. You need to understand yourself very well to be in the right headspace to see this through. Maybe as much as 90% of completing a race is mind control. A big part of the end result depends on how the musher manages to keep him or herself together during a period of sleep deprivation and prolonged physical activity. In the eyes of the dogs we are their coaches and their mentors. Every dog is different and has different needs and we need to make sure that those needs are met.
Besides of the mental aspect it is a huge logistical project. A lot of things need to come together to make it to the starting line. And I love how, during a competition but also during some of the longer trainings, the world disappears and you become one with the team. All that matters is the dynamic between you and them and what they need in the near to medium term to keep performing at a very high level.
It’s a strange thought now to think that I wouldn’t have the dogs. What would I be doing then? There doesn’t seem to be an alternative. Or not an equally exciting one, at least. Mushing has become far more than a job or a hobby. It is an entire lifestyle.
Team Belgica 