KASILOF, Alaska — It seems you can almost never trust a die-hard Iditarod musher who claims to be retiring. Mike Williams has joined the ever-growing list of mushers who’ve claimed to be hanging it up for good, only to return a year later.
After a dozen Iditarods, he took a year’s hiatus in 2006 to relieve his family a little bit, but has signed up to make the journey from his home in remote Akiak to the Anchorage starting line again in 2007. It wasn’t Williams’ desire to take a break in the first place.
“My first choice will always be to run,” he said. “I think after a year they (his wife and children) are a bit more comfortable - and I’m not going to put it up for a vote ever again!” I could hear his smile coming through the phone as he spoke. “Democracy works, but y’know … I’m hooked on the Iditarod.
“I just can’t stay away from it.”
Iditarod takes a huge toll on family. Last year, Williams’ wife and kids asked him to stay home, and he didn’t pursue it any further. “Preparation and stress and travel and training and expenses – they wanted to take a break,” he said. “I think they were more stressed out than I was. It’s not a problem for me to get ready and get going on the trail. But mom is worried, kids are wondering what I’m doing. But y’know, after a year, I think it’s no problem. They said it’s up to me.”
His highest finish was 18th in 2002, and any musher who’s raced with Williams has a high respect for him and for his dogs. He and his son, Mike Jr., 21, are training the kennel of 50 dogs all winter. They both hope to enter the Kuskokwim 300, with Mike Jr. running the A-team.
The biggest challenge for the Williams family is scraping enough finances together to make it all work, from maintaining a kennel in the bush to flying the team and gear over to Anchorage for the start and back after the finish in Nome.
Williams keeps busy harvesting enough fish from the river and providing other foods to maintain his kennel in the roadless region near Bethel.
Born in 1952, Williams said dogs were always part of his family. Back then, they were mostly for transportation, but as the snowmobiles started taking over in the late 1960s and early ’70s, his father said no to the change. “We depended on dogs, and survived on dogs,” Williams said. “He was taught by his dad and wanted to keep passing that down. He always said it was very important that we keep the traditions alive and keep our way of life alive. He wasn’t a fan of the snowmachines. He always thought they cost a lot and break down. A dog team doesn’t break down.”
Another thing that doesn’t break down is the friendships Williams has developed with other Iditarod mushers over the years. He mentioned Joe Garnie, Rick Swenson, and Susan Butcher, among others, including DeeDee Jonrowe, someone Williams helped get started in dogs back when Jonrowe lived in Bethel. Then he mentioned Charlie Boulding, who also announced his retirement last year.
Now, Boulding is one former Iditarod musher who will probably keep on sailing his boat instead of training another pack of dogs to race across Alaska, Williams agreed. That’s one retirement that isn’t likely to be short-lived. “He’s not as crazy as we are,” Williams mused. Boulding’s knees were hurting in the last few years, and racing lost its luster. “It’s still fun for me. I still enjoy running out there,” Williams said. “My original plan was to do 20 Iditarods.” At age 54 and with knees starting to hurt from old football injuries, he said, “I’m not going to get there. I’m not as crazy as Joe Redington Sr.” Redington ran his first Iditarod at age 57 and raced until he was 80 in 1997. He died from cancer two years later. “Up until the last … ,” Williams said. “Gee, he’s a tough man.”
Another take on cross training
For years, DeeDee Jonrowe has been active in trail running and long-distance foot races in the off season. But she’s taken that drive to run as hard as a sled dog to a whole new level in 2006, biting off the challenge of the world’s foremost triathlon: The Ironman World Championship in Kailua-Kona, Hawaii.
The race, which involves a 2.4-mile swim, 112-mile bicycle course and 26.2-mile marathon, takes place on Oct. 21. It is considered brutally tough among triathletes, but Jonrowe and her husband Mike say they’re looking forward to it.
“I am participating in the Ironman as an athlete and Iditarod musher, but also as a breast cancer survivor,” she said in a statement. “Competing in the Ironman provides me with a unique opportunity to raise cancer awareness and to show that those dealing with illness or major setbacks in life can overcome them to do things they did not think possible.”
Jonrowe, 52, will wear bib #174, participating in the women’s 50-54 age class. While most participants in this triathlon must qualify by winning another triathlon or by a lucky draw in a lottery, Jonrowe was actually asked to race. Ironman television producer and race vice president Peter Henning made the call. Jonrowe will be among five racers spotlighted by NBC coverage of the race, partly as a cancer survivor and also because of her Iditarod background.
She is tough and resilient, which was proven again in the 2006 Iditarod when she finished a strong fourth despite a multi-hour battle with drifting snow between Kaltag and Unalakleet. Jonrowe races her dog team to win, but has never run foot races with that goal in mind. “She just tries to finish,” said her husband, Mike. “She just tries to do her best. She likes to challenge herself physically. You’ve got to stay in shape if you want to run the Iditarod, especially as you get older.”
Jonrowe finished second to last this summer in a Fairbanks half-Ironman race. At another event, a triathlon near Knik, she placed 3rd in the female 50- to 54-year-old division with a 1,500 meter swim time of 0:45:09, a 40-kilometer bike time of 1:37:41, a 10-kilometer run time of 1:15:41, for an overall time of 3:38:31. She’s also flown to Hawaii to test herself on the conditions there, which can be hilly and windswept. While training on her bike there, she flipped over the handlebars and broke a rib, spending some time in the ER, her husband said.
Her chances at finishing? Good, said a veteran of three Ironman contests held in New York. Bruce Linton, a rookie in this year’s Iditarod, ran the Lake Placid Ironman from 1999 through 2001 - a trick in itself, since Linton is diabetic. Jonrowe will need to be in peak physical shape, he said. “It takes half a year to get your body up to that.” Linton has no plans on running any triathlons in the near future, he said. He’s got enough on his hands trying to figure out how to run his first 1,100-mile sled dog race by March.
Assuming Jonrowe can eliminate injuries during the triathlon, her husband said he could see only good things coming out of the effort. Mike has been training the dog team while DeeDee focuses on her own workouts. Jonrowe should be able to get back to the dogs fully focused by late October – still early season for an Iditarod program. The race starts the first Saturday in March.
“She’s probably in the best physical shape she’s been in all her life,” Mike noted, “because she’s doing the training – an hour-and-a-half swim, multiple hours biking and running combinations. I don’t think she has done that before.”