Dream Harley in hand, he’s aiming at a dream race and a dream home
KASILOF, Alaska – Lance Mackey has three simple desires: win the Iditarod, live in a log house and ride around on a Harley Davidson motorcycle. One of the three became a reality this summer, and the other two are tantalizingly within reach of Mackey’s nine-fingered grasp. The first goal to be checked off the list of the lanky, down-to-earth dog musher has two wheels, sleek curves and the dirty rumble that comes only from a Harley.
He bought his dream hog, a Sportster with zero miles, this spring and had the odometer up to 1,000 miles by the end of May.
Mackey should add about 600 more miles to his Harley soon. No doubt, he will wear his leathers for the four-hour ride from Kasilof to Wasilla in mid-June so he can be among the first, if not No. 1, to sign up for the 2007 Iditarod. He expects to be camping out by June 15, a good nine days before the first official day of signups on June 24.
The Iditarod’s first day of signups coincides with its annual volunteer picnic. It’s an opportunity for mushers to mingle with people who donate their time to make the race come alive. The incentive for mushers to attend is this: They get to choose their starting position in the order they sign up. That’s important for Mackey, who badly wants to leave the chute 13th, just as his father, Dick, and brother, Rick, did in the years they won - 1978 and 1983. If Mackey wants a 100-percent chance of choosing lucky bib 13, he needs to be first in line.
Going for the dream win
Not only did the other Mackeys wear bib 13 the years they won, they also won the race on their sixth try. This will be Lance’s sixth go as well.
“I feel stupid trying to fill those kinds of shoes, but I have to try ‘em,” he said on a cool day in late May at his Kasilof dog lot. A marine wind blew off nearby Cook Inlet, putting a chill in the air, but, as the ever-optimistic Mackey pointed out, at least the breeze kept the mosquitoes away.
When Mackey first started racing, he told his wife, Tonya, he was going to try to win by his sixth attempt and would give it up if he wasn’t able to compete. Mackey poured his heart and soul into it. Such a goal would be a tough enough hill to climb for anyone. After all, lots of people pursue an Iditarod victory. But Mackey suffered a shattering setback about three years ago when he underwent major cancer surgery in his neck. He emerged from the literally near-death experience even more determined, more focused and more willing to do what it takes. He kept improving with every race. At this point, Mackey pointed out the obvious about the caliber of his kennel: “We’re there now.” Mackey has been winning just about every race he enters for the past couple of years, including back-to-back victories in the Yukon Quest, two top 10s in the Iditarod, wining the Kobuk 440 in April and the Copper Basin 300 in January.
Mackey, who will be 36 by the time the 2007 Iditarod rolls around, said he’s learned a lot about the art of distance sled dog racing along the way. He feels he’s getting better and better at it. Considering Mackey’s main focus in 2007 is the Iditarod - he’s taking a younger team to the Quest - he sees first place as an achievable, logical goal. “It’s the sixth try and, oddly enough, I think I have as good a chance as anybody,” he said.
Despite having a team that reels in just about all the others when he’s racing, the Nenana-born musher insisted his dogs aren’t the fastest on the trail. But he said he’s addressing that, partly through being more efficient in his checkpoint routines. (One of the routines he has battled is simply oversleeping - he sinks deeply into slumberland late in a race, sometimes losing and hour or two. He addressed that in the 2006 Iditarod by doing something pretty smart: He sacked out in the busiest spot in the Unalakleet checkpoint, right where people had to step over him. The activity and the concrete floor kept him from oversleeping.)
Good dogs, great training
Mushers from all over Alaska have taken serious interest in Mackey’s dogs in the past couple of years. Success has a way of doing that. The heart of his team is from dogs from the Kenai Peninsula that have performed well over the past decade, spiced with a little genetics from Mackey’s roots in Nenana. His bloodline involves dogs from Dave Scheer, Tim Osmar and Jeff King - some of which contributed speed and stamina; some brought dogged mental toughness that is critical in long-distance mushing. Mackey downplays the genetics, though. “I think a lot of it is the training – being consistent with training.”
In addition to his 60-odd racing huskies, Mackey has seven loose “pet” dogs running around at all times, from mutts to a Jack Russell terrier to a Dalmatian. But perhaps the queen of the pets and a surprisingly important part of his kennel is a sled-dog/Labrador mix named Butter. She’s well named, tan and fat, like a stick of butter on legs. He never feeds her, but she’s obviously a successful scavenger. The blue-eyed, freckle-nosed mutt is all heart, and is a key to Mackey’s success.
Butter jogs out on the trail on most every training run Mackey takes; she’s loose, either charging ahead or trotting along just behind the sled. She gets a good 2,000 miles of free running every winter.
It’s not like having a loose leader, he said. A “loose leader” is a proven way to artificially speed up a dog team, which is why the practice is banned in races. The team will chase a loose dog, much like it speeds up to go after a snowshoe hare, a moose or a wind-blown leaf that rolls down the trail. Butter isn’t that loose leader, but more of an assistant coach. She spends much of her time with the team or behind it. “She kind-of teaches them in weird ways,” Mackey said. If he has to stop his team to make a turn, and they balk at it, Butter will run up and make the turn, then “turn around and bark at them,” he said. Or if he whistles, the command to run faster, she’ll recognize and drive at a full gallop past his team, which then goes all out in a chase.
The mixed-breed dog was bred accidentally a few years back, giving birth to three male pups. Two of them have performed beautifully in both the Iditarod and Yukon Quest, Mackey said. “It makes me believe what my dad always said: Breeding and looks don’t matter; if it’s got the heart to be a sled dog, it’s going to be a sled dog. It just don’t matter.”
Going for the dream home
So he has the Harley and he’s taking his best shot at winning the 2007 Iditarod - so what about goal No. 3? Mackey isn’t waiting around. The dream of a log house on a nice chunk of land somewhere in Alaska better come along soon, because Lance and Tonya sold their trailer house on an acre in Kasilof to Lance’s brother, Jason Mackey. Jason’s family moved in, and Lance and Tonya occupy tighter confines atop the bed of a pickup truck. “I’m living in a camper in my driveway,” the 2006 Yukon Quest champion deadpanned.
When he’s not training dogs, Mackey is on a quest to find just the right piece of land, somewhere in Alaska: a place where he can grow old. He won’t be racing dogs forever, he said, pointing out his increasing hip pain and a second finger that hurts in cold weather. He had one of his forefingers amputated last fall for similar pain, but laughingly said he wasn’t about to have a doctor hack off another digit just so he can continue racing.
Where he moves isn’t so critical, as long as it feels right. “I’m going to go with my gut feeling,” he said. “I’ll go with property I can build a log house on and grow old at.” Ideally, the land will have water nearby, whether it’s the ocean, a lake or stream. His heart would put him far out into the country, but there are realities of recovering from cancer and having a wife who still wants to work and go into town every so often. “I want to be able to drive to town without bleeding to death, if something were to happen,” was the way Mackey put it.
He doesn’t envision a new home by this winter, but maybe the land to build it on. He may even spend the racing season camped at a small cabin he has on a sliver of land in the nearby Caribou Hills.
He’s not letting uncertainty or fear slow him down. “I’ve seen how close life can pass you by,” Mackey said.