Like stampeding buffaloes, mushers of the Iditarod pack continue to file into Nome despite winds, cold temperatures, bare trails, and glare ice. Understanding the behavior pattern of the incoming musher has become one of those counterintuitive condundrums. They sleep an hour, or not at all, after arriving and gather their fans for an appearance at a Nome restaurant.

This afternoon I was sitting down to fresh salad, looking out the large plate windows of Fat Freddies, the habitué of mushers, directly out over the white of the Berring Sea Ice and the Nome Golf Course, a three hole assemblage of green carpet, a few plastic palm trees, and green pins. Rick Casillo, who finished at noon, sits at the next table with his entourage of supporters, and orders, like a man who has pondered a decision for a very long time, a steak and potatoe. Noticing that he looks recovered I ask him why he looks unblemished and discover he was careful to wind protection on his face. No, he reports, he tried to be as careful as possible, but then shows me where he was frost bit on his eyelids and bridge of his nose, the one area he had to leave uncovered to see.

Now, our table wants to know more. Rick then tells us about his passage over Rainy Pass on the second day of the race and describes winds so fierce that he and his travelling companions came face to face to discuss the trail, shouting to be heard above the wind. One of them, Louie Nelson, let his guard down and paid for it with frost bite to his face, the prevalent injury on this years Iditarod. I saw “Uncle Louie”, one of the best known mushers on the trail, famous for his travelling banquet of native Eskimo foods—smoked salmon, muktuk, dried reindeer, et al—-and could see he had toughed it out with a tender face for days. From winner Lance Mackey and second place Paul Gebhardt, the signs of frozen cheeks, chins, and finger tips is the record of the race—-constant wind. Thirty to fifty mile an hour winds, some directly in the face teams and dogs along the Yukon River, and across the ice of Norton Sound from Shaktoolik to Koyuk, were unrelenting.

But, I didn’t realize how unrelenting. From the next table, Mark Lindstrom, race judge, shows us some photos of Mike Williams, one the most popular mushers on the trail. Mike, a really uplifting and inspiring ambassador for sobriety in the state of Alaska, and a tireless worker for native americans nationwide, is a saavy outdoorsman from Akiak. Mark clicked through some photos of Mike, his face blistered by frost bite, and then, more photos of Mike slathered in the same white salve that mushers use to assuage the paws of their huskies.

Linwood Fiedler, a familiar personality on the Iditarod trail, ran into some bad luck in Iditarod. Rick Casillo told me a wind at Linwoods back caught him offguard and froze his ears. The end result was a lot of pain and swelling, forcing him to scratch—-and the wind and the resulting phenomena of wind chill needed only a few minutes to do the damage.

Tough race, a few lessons learned, and empathy and sympathy (if you have had broken ribs, hands, feet, frost bite) well deserved for this years Iditarod pack.