Warning: Mushing may be habit-forming.

Getting one Siberian husky can lead to the purchase of 19 more dogs. Prolonged dog-sledding can produce a dog-based lifestyle, including buying a purple pickup truck for hauling your dogs, making regular trips to Alaska, and living on acreage in the country so neighbors won't mind when your huskies howl.

Just ask Barbara Schaefer and Kathy Miyoshi.

In June, at a ceremony in Maine, the two Nevada County women will be awarded gold and bronze medals by the International Sled Dog Racing Association, which ranks Schaefer first and Miyoshi third in the world for the six-dog, mid-distance (20 to 25 miles) dog-sled race.

It's the culmination of a hobby that began with a simple love of dogs and blossomed into something closer to an obsession.

Miyoshi, for example, is Bay Area native who recently moved to Nevada County with nine huskies in tow.

A single woman in her early 30s, Miyoshi's hobby started innocently enough. She had always loved dogs, and decided to get one after she graduated from Irvine College and got her own apartment.

"I decided it was finally OK for me to get a dog," said Miyoshi, who bought a Siberian husky for $100. That led to membership in the Bay Area Siberian Husky Club, which led to Miyoshi watching her first dog-sled race in Truckee.

"I took one look at it, and I went ... 'What do I have to do to participate in this?'"

Miyoshi began racing four years ago. She was renting a Berkeley apartment from her mother, who eventually put a five-dog cap on Miyoshi's "kennel."

Miyoshi's urban family has come to respect her dog-sledding habit, but, "When I first started, they thought I was hands-down crazy: 'What are you doing with all those dogs? Those dogs are ruining your life!'"

Miyoshi moved three times in three years to find a place for her dogs before settling down near Red Dog Road. Tired of commuting to Rancho Cordova so she could telecommute from there to the Bay Area, she recently quit her job writing legal contracts for McKesson Corp., a large pharmaceutical company.

Dog-sledding also started innocently enough for Barbara Schaefer.

She and her husband, John Berdner, tried what's now called "skijourning" - having their first husky, Kyla, wear a special harness and take turns pulling them on cross country skis.

Then they got a second husky, so they could each skijourn at the same time.

Soon, they decided "if we had one more dog, then we could get a sled. Then it was all over," Schaefer said. "I have 20 (huskies) now."

"We foolishly thought if we had more dogs, we could go faster," Schaefer said. "Instead, we needed faster dogs."

The couple wound up buying 10 acres in the Red Dog Road area so they'd have room for their kennel. They met with all their neighbors first, because huskies howl for about a minute at sunrise, at mealtimes, and just before they go to sleep.

"Every neighbor I met said, 'Oh, huskies, I just love it when they howl, it reminds me I live in the country."

It takes about an hour to 90 minutes a day to feed and care for the dogs, who have a one-acre fenced area to run in during the day and sleep in cougar-proof kennels at night, Schaefer said.

During dog-sledding season, she takes them out about four times a week in the snow near Webber Lake in Nevada County or Foresthill in Placer County.

To get there, Schaefer packs huskies into her blue Ford F150 pickup, which has a white homemade dog box on the back that holds up to 14 dogs.

"Everyone sees it driving around town," and people regularly stop Schaefer and ask her questions, she said.

Miyoshi's rig is a purple Dodge pickup with a matching purple dog box.

The two friends go sledding together. In the off-season, they train their dogs by having them pull wheeled vehicles on remote Nevada County roads.

Schaefer volunteered for 10 years straight at the famed Iditarod dog-sled race in Alaska, but didn't go there the past two years because she's been so busy with her own dog-sledding.