Building Alaskan Dreams 

This is the third book of the Jason Highcamp saga. It picks up where book two, Living Alaskan Dreams, left off and takes his life on the remote homestead from dogsled racing, to life-threatening forest fires, to rescuing his favorite dog, Bingo, from quick mud. Jason offers his opinion of the reasons behind the diminishing of dog mushers and other remote lifestyles that are being threatened by politics and greed. The story meanders as Jason negotiates his life path into his own aging process, so he can remain on his homestead until he meets his own final destiny. The adventures and psychology of Jason are uniquely woven into this story and are sure to make readers put themselves into Jason’s boots on several occasions, like being nose to nose with an intrusive black bear. What would you do?

From Chasing Alaskan Dreams:

“It’s amazing what that cold, briskly invigorating mountain air can do for a man with a boggled mind and a broken heart. After my winter of my own method of self-healing on long mushing trips, I felt like a new man. The scars would remain forever, but the bleeding had ceased. The trick to maintain my sanity now was to not re-open the scars.

After my thought-filled winter of mushing long trips up into the mountains and across a couple rivers, my thoughts about improving the quality of my life on the homestead were like an endless galaxy of ideas and in my mind they sparkled like the stars. My ‘job of the day’ motto was just the ticket I needed to help me along my chosen progressive path. I just had to focus on what I wanted to do, and then just do it, or at least it seemed that simple in my mind.

My first big Spring job was to build the new addition onto my log cabin. That, in itself, opened up many new possibilities I probably hadn’t even considered as of yet. I did know one thing for sure: a bigger cabin was a convenient necessity, especially if I ever planned to live with another woman. For right now, I had to end my long trips to the mountains and out West of the Teklanika River on the old mail trail. The Alaskan elements, I was yet learning, were either very harsh or very gentle, but never when you wanted them to be.

This past winter I had expanded my experiences with bigger dog teams on side-hill ice trails, across overflowing rivers, and on some really rough trails. My young trainee lead dog, Dinger, was focused and he gained a lot of self-confidence. We both learned together to trust each other. He was a dog that seemed to know what I was thinking. Even in dangerous situations we both remained fairly calm as we developed our communications with voice commands or with our eyes.

I was high on life and the value of unity with my team was a feeling I’d never before experienced. Though we learned a lot together this season, I knew there was so much more that I didn’t know about dogs, mushing and racing, but I was hungry to learn all I could. For now, my main focus was to haul in the Spring freight - roofing materials, and other building supplies, 12-inch spikes, insulation, sill seal, all had to come in yet. Plus I had to do a current inventory of chows, meals, poultry feed, garden supplies, and food for myself to get me through the summer. With all the work I had lined up for myself I didn’t want to go to town unless I absolutely had to - maybe a monthly run for mail would be in order, and probably  keeping myself well-supplied with skeeto dope