Mackey and King less than a mile apart at Koyuk
KOYUK — Lance Mackey’s team was the first off the sea ice, leading Jeff King in the 2008 Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race with only 150 miles to go. But you’d hardly know it by the way the two acted as they stripped off their wind gear, heated water and doled out dry kibble, meat and water to their dogs.
Mackey was plainly frustrated; King was serene.
“I think he’s playing me,” Mackey said of King. “In fact, I know he is. He left Shaktoolik behind me. He ain’t dumb. I’d do the same thing if I had the opportunity.” Mackey went on to say that he can’t outrun King, which is why he pulled over to rest at Koyuk. Mackey made sure his team was parked at the end of the road leading to the trail out of town. When King pulls his hook, Mackey said he’d go, too. “I wish we had another 24 hour break,” he said. “I’d definitely take it.”
Mackey’s only option to stay any distance ahead of King involves cutting his dogs’ rest, and the 2007 champion said he’s not going down that road. It leads to slower and slower travel, which forces a musher to take less even rest to keep up, which further slows the team in a downward spiral.
Regarding his dogs, which had bright eyes and plenty of spirit as they trotted into this windy village at the mouth of Koyuk River, Mackey was critical.
He’s seen the team train and race all season, so the flaws stick out. “They’re fading away for sure,” he said, “Not exactly the same scenario as last year. Everything seems to take longer and I feel worse doing it… as soon as we leave a checkpoint, we get into a crawl.” Mackey said he seems to have no more than six of his 12 dogs pulling at once, and it gets so bad he’s been turning around backward on the sled so he doesn’t have to look at it.
“I’ve been racing against a bunch of Porsches, and I’m driving a Volkswagen,” he concluded.
“I’m not going to back off, but I don’t think this team’s got enough to outrun that one,” he said, noting that King still had 16 dogs. Mackey entered this race with the goal of finishing in the top 10, and he should easily accomplish that, without disappointment, he said. He said he was thinking as the team crossed the featureless, flat sea ice that there seems to be a pattern lately: “Jeff wins, I win, Jeff wins, I win. We’ll meet again in two weeks, so this one’s my turn,” he said, referring to the All-Alaska Sweepstakes, the $100,000, winner-take-all race that starts March 26 in Nome.
Right behind Mackey on the same road out of town, the scene was different. King praised his dogs, he praised Mackey for being an incredible competitor. And, while Mackey expressed frustration with seeing his dogs not pulling, King said allowing dogs to run along with a slack line, at times, is part of his approach to long distance racing. It’s why he still has a team of 16 in harness, he said.
The first thing King said as reporters aimed cameras at him was, “I’m right where I want to be.” King said he’s never had a complete 16-dog string this late in the race, and certainly not in a position where he could win. The soft, warm conditions made it conducive to have lots of dogs. A team this big might have been “a pain” if the trail were icy and fast, he said.
It’s not his goal to get 16 dogs to Nome, he said. “It would be cool, but it’s a little bit of a holy grail. It would be fun if it happens, but I’m not thinking a lot about it.”
“I certainly enjoyed seeing 16 tight tug lines across the ice today,” he said. “They took off out of Shaktoolik barking and loping the first five miles. I must admit, I’ve never gotten out of Shaktoolik like I did this morning.” He said he eventually slowed the team down to a “steady eddy” pace. Shaktoolik, like Unalakleet, is one of those checkpoints late in the race that just intimidates dogs and mushers alike. Teams sometimes shuffle out. Some balk.
King believes his strategy of letting dogs “rest,” that is run without pulling for hours at a time, is not only a positive thing, it’s the reason his team had so much “pizazz” this morning. He reflected back to a movie he’d seen recently depicting the Roman army defeating its enemies. The soldiers would fight until tired, then be replaced by reinforcements while they rested, he said. Likewise, a dog that’s tired can run along without pulling, gathering its energy and desire to pull on a later run.
He mentioned a case in point: A dog named Lobben that he’d considered dropping at Unalakleet on Sunday after it didn’t pull for 50 miles on the way from Kaltag “had flames coming out of his butt across the ice” of Norton Sound today.
Regarding his race-long duel with Mackey, King said, yes, he was letting him go ahead. But he also praised Mackey for being remarkably difficult to pass. “I’ve been deliberately not trying real hard to pass him,” King said. He said he got close out on the ice this morning, but “he clearly can call them up, and chose to on soft trail,” King said. Mackey gained a mile on him in 15 minutes, he said. Mushers truly dislike getting passed on the run.
When will King pass Mackey?, someone asked. “When it happens, it won’t go over real big — if it happens,” King said, laughing. The only time King has been ahead of Mackey this year is when Mackey pulled over to rest. “It’s not like I could do it at will,” King said. Saying his dogs do best on easy-pulling trail, he guessed there might not be a pass in this race until the teams hit the beach outside of Nome.
This close contest reminded King of 1993, when he, DeeDee Jonrowe and Rick Mackey were holed up here in Koyuk during a storm. They took off nose to tail, and were through Elim before they shook Mackey. Jonrowe and King were seven minutes apart when they hit White Mountain. “I was younger then; I would prefer not to do that,” he said.
Asked if the race this year was a little bit of a challenge, King’s jaw dropped. He paused. ” ‘A little bit of a challenge,?!’ ” he said. It’s been a sheer unforgiving challenge, he replied, coping with the dogs, the environment and Lance Mackey, who’s demeanor and expertise is at the peak of the sport, King said. “Yeah, you could say it’s a challenge.”
As King and Mackey rested inside the checkpoint and bright sun blazed down on the featureless Norton Sound, several teams bore down on Koyuk in what could be the toughest fight for third place ever. Eight to 12 teams have a shot. “I’m so glad I’m not there,” King said. Ken Anderson was the first musher to make the crossing, blowing through Shaktoolik shortly after 11 a.m.
The fact that Mackey and Anderson have such strong teams, and both ran most of their dogs in the 1,000-mile Yukon Quest just a couple of weeks before the start of the Iditarod, wasn’t lost on either King or Mackey. As they sat and ate inside the checkpoint, King started to say, “Lance, I tell you, if Ken pulls off a third…”
“…It’ll be a full field of Quest mushers next year,” Mackey said, finishing the sentence.
Mackey told King that it’s the so-called fresh dogs, the ones that didn’t run Quest, that are slowing him down this year. King asked if it was the Quest experience, or the who those dogs are that make the difference? Are those Quest veterans on Mackey’s team just genetically superior? Mackey answered that Anderson has a completely different bloodline from his, and Anderson’s team is performing exceptionally well after coming off the Quest.
“I’m glad I’ll be retired long before that becomes the norm,” King said.



