When a dogsledding story is done well, I can't think of anything more beautiful to write about in the natural world. Racing for miles through glittery, unbroken snow; blizzard conditions as eerie and deadly as the deep ocean; frozen bodies of water that one feels a twinge of fear in crossing, however solid the ice appears to be. Gary Paulsen wrote a few classic dogsledding books, and their realism owes to the years he spent running his dog team in Minnesota and Alaska, even completing the legendary Iditarod race. Terry Lynn Johnson has similar experience to draw on, and Ice Dogs is probably more compelling than if she were merely a writer who did research. Extreme cold is the enemy for fourteen-year-old Victoria Secord and her sled dogs when they lose their way in the Alaskan wilderness. To make it to safety they'll need heavy doses of luck and pluck, and even that might not be sufficient to tame the wilds.
Victoria doesn't like the gist of recent conversations between her mother and maternal grandmother. Victoria's mother seems to like the idea of moving to a warmer climate after Victoria's father died in a dogsledding accident when he was out alone. He loved running the dogs all winter in Alaska, as Victoria does, but her mother might be happier starting over elsewhere. Still mourning her father, Victoria wants no part of moving away from the open land she and her dogs have to run. She's coming into her own as a competitive musher behind Bean, Blue, and the rest of her dogs. Leaving now would mean never fulfilling their potential as a team, and that would feel like dishonoring her father's memory. One afternoon she sets out with the dogs to meet Jeremy Cook, a local breeder who can get her a couple more quality canines to firm up her team's leadership, a must if she's to start winning races. Victoria has no idea she's embarking on a life-threatening adventure.
The weather turns bad en route to Cook's place and Victoria considers hunkering down for the night, though her mother would worry because Victoria didn't tell her she was going on this trip. Before Victoria can decide, she finds a boy her age in the snow, injured in a snowmobile wreck. Chris recently moved here from the city, and doesn't know the wilderness as Victoria does. On his own in this blizzard, his snowmobile broken down, he'd die. They head for Cook's place hoping to arrive before nightfall, but the snowstorm is out of control. Sharp as the dogs' instincts are, they can't sniff out the trail to Cook's house, and Victoria grows anxious as they continue forward with no sign of civilization on the horizon. She, Chris, and the dogs can hole up in their sled for a night or two, but they can't survive indefinitely without adequate shelter, especially with no food. Hope for rescue fades as days pass and they seem farther from society than ever, and Victoria's arguments with Chris only serve to distract her. She can't figure out if she likes the city boy, but he's not much help in a survival situation. The humans and dogs weaken each day, and though Victoria doesn't want to admit it, the odds are against them living through this adventure. Where is the hero they desperately need?
Gary Paulsen's admiration for dogs is evident in his writing, and the same can be said of Terry Lynn Johnson's. Though young, Victoria recognizes her dogs' instinctual wisdom. "Sometimes I wish I could trade places with the dogs. They only have to worry about running and eating. They love fiercely and don't worry about things they can't control. And when someone dies, they can sit on top of their house, throw their head back, and howl. Then they can begin a new day." The untimely death of Victoria's father is the chief source of contention between her and her mother. Victoria blames herself for not being there to save her father, and blames her mother for not allowing Victoria to accompany him that day. She carries her resentment everywhere, but the dogs aren't tormented by old feelings. Victoria envies how they grieve and then move on, though she misses her father and needs to sense his presence in order to be motivated to survive the predicament she and Chris are in. Her father is as important in this story as any other character. Victoria isn't like most girls her age; she wants to master dogsledding, and it's important to believe in herself and project confidence as the leader of her dogs. That's the way to become good at anything. "Uncle Leonard tells me the more you pretend at being something, the closer you are to making it real. So just make sure you're pretending the right things." Victoria wants nothing more than to commune with her dogs outdoors. She's on track to become the person she wants to be, bumpy as the ride is, and her perspective will be forever enhanced if she lives through the current crisis. "If everyone could almost die, the world would be a happier, more thankful place." We can't fully appreciate what we have until it's almost taken away, and those fortunate to survive the close call have special insight. The problems you had before won't go away, but now you know you're luckier than you realized, and gratitude is a good mindset for tackling life's issues.
A blurb on the dust jacket of the copy of Ice Dogs I read favorably compares Terry Lynn Johnson to Gary Paulsen, Farley Mowat, and Jean Craighead George. That's elite company, and I'm not certain she belongs, at least not just from this book. Ice Dogs is a good read that skirts the edge of greatness, but doesn't quite enter the territory of the immortal Gary Paulsen and other top wilderness writers. Victoria's emotional connection with her father is poignant, though, indicating that Terry Lynn Johnson has what it takes to be an exceptional storyteller. I'm giving this book two and a half stars, and I wasn't far from rounding that up rather than down. If you want the feeling of riding snowy trails behind a team of dogs who would sacrifice everything for you, look to Terry Lynn Johnson. She has firsthand experience to share.