Introduction to the Iditarod Sled Dog Race

I am certain I’m not the first person who has surmised that the Iditarod Sled Dog Race is a metaphor for life.  It is a long journey-even much longer than it appears-and one that requires almost obsessive discipline, focus, and perseverance.  It teaches the participants things about themselves they may never have known if they had never started that journey.  What happens when they are lost or stranded?  How will they react in life and death situations?  How will they react when confronted with the choice of stopping to help another competitor at an almost certain cost to their own aspirations?  How can they foresee the daily-and decidedly unglamorous-tasks associated with keeping, training, and providing for a kennel full of dogs, day after day, morning after cold morning?  And finally, after meeting all of the challenges and logistical nightmares involved in bringing a team to Anchorage for the race, how does one face the heartbreak of not finishing, of losing a dog, or of finishing far below the expectations of friends, family, sponsors, and-most importantly-oneself?   How does a musher measure success when failure is, for most, what seems to be the order of the day?  Why would anybody do this voluntarily?

Three years ago, when I started my journey to be Teacher on the Trail, I could not foresee the trials, the work, the uncertainty, and the heartbreak.  I wanted to quit more than once. After my first attempt-I was chosen as a finalist, but not the 2008 Teacher on the Trail-I was ready to call it quits.  But my “team”-friends, colleagues, family, and even members of the Iditarod Education Committee-challenged me to keep going. With no guarantee of success, I had to take a deep breath and consider if this was the right decision for me, and was it the right decision for this great group of folks that made up that team.

But with their support, I decided to give it a go, not knowing at the time how vital this team would become in my life.  I put together that second application packet-notebooks full of essays, lesson plans, biographic information, etc-sharpened my computer skills, and waited for the word.

And so I was selected as the 2009 Teacher on the Trail in April; I coasted along on smooth trail until September of  ‘08.  Then the worst weather conditions blew in-I was diagnosed with cancer.  What was I to do?  It didn’t seem possible that I would be able to fulfill my duties as Teacher on the Trail.  I decided to resign.  My husband Bob said, “No, you need to follow through with this.”  I called my principal Claudia Sherry to say I wouldn’t be going to Alaska, and she said, “Yes, you are.”  Diane Johnson, head of the Iditarod Education Committee, said, “No, you may not resign.”  She assured me it was my position, and they would work with me, come what may.  My doctors said, “Well, maybe, but it will be close.”

And close it was.  After months of surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation treatments, I was cleared to go on Friday, February 20^th, five days before I flew out to Anchorage.  Two weeks before my red and white blood cell counts were much too low to even consider the journey, but there it was.  I had made it!  But it would not have been possible without the wonderful support and encouragement I had from my doctors, my family, my good friends, my colleagues at Carolina Day School, my church, and all of the dozens and dozens of teachers, mushers, and administrators associated with the Iditarod.  This was my team, and they pulled me through.

I am teaching at CDS once again; I walk regularly, and I’ve even run a little.  I get fatigued easily, and I am still experiencing some swelling and discomfort.  But I am alive, and I have never been more thankful.  I have discovered much about myself; I am humbled by the outpouring of hope, faith, and love from literally hundreds and hundreds of people.  Now I have to pass it on.  I want to be a part of other teams, for those whose sleds have taken an unexpected turn, or whose team is worn out.  I want to be light and warmth for those who find themselves stranded out there on the dark and cold trail.  I hope to cheer them across the finish line, just as others have cheered for me.  Life is teamwork.  That’s what I learned from the Iditarod, and that’s what I hope to pass on.

Watch the slide show!

After a month of travel and excitement, I am now home in North Carolina, safe and sound.  But I couldn’t leave Alaska without one final adventure.

I was scheduled to fly to Anchorage late Sunday night from Nome after the Wells Fargo Awards Banquet.  Due to the large number of folks who needed to be transported to the airport to make that flight, my driver needed to drop me off and then go back for a second load.  I walked into one door of the terminal just as Jeff King walked through the other.  We looked at each other and quickly assessed the situation.   If we hurried, we might be able make the flight that was just boarding.  Of course, the clerk recognized Jeff immediately and granted his request to make the flight.  Though I was an unknown, they graciously accommodated me as well.  Unfortunately, I had checked my bags earlier in the day for the later flight, so they were not going with me.  But I took the chance, hoping that eventually I would be able to claim my bags.

It turned out to be a serendipitous meeting, because that was the last flight to make it out of Nome that night and for the next two days.  While we were in the air Sunday night, Mt. Redoubt erupted, sending an ash cloud nine miles into the sky.  The flight I had originally been scheduled to take was forced to turn around to avoid the ash cloud.  The volcano erupted five more times in the next 24 hours, but the prevailing winds were blowing north/northwest; most of the ash blew away from Anchorage and into the interior of Alaska.  My bags were eventually sent to Fairbanks and then forwarded on to Asheville.

I was happy and relieved to make it to Anchorage Sunday night so I could make my flight to Charlotte on Tuesday.  But that early flight also gave me a special gift – the opportunity to chat with Jeff King for the two-hour flight from Nome to Anchorage!

March 23, 2009

The Wells Fargo Awards Banquet was held last night at the Nome Recreation Center.  Hundreds of race fans packed the arena for this event that recognized the achievements of the teams that finished Iditarod XXXVII.  The following is the list of special awards that were presented.

PenAir Spirit of Alaska Award – Aaron Burmeister received a $500 credit for travel or freight and a beautiful framed mask depicting the spirit of the “team,” for being the first musher into McGrath.

GCI Dorothy G Page Halfway Award – For being the first musher to arrive in Iditarod, Lance Mackey received $2,500 in gold nuggets and a beautiful trophy.

Millennium Hotel Anchorage First to the Yukon Award - Lance Mackey received a nine-course meal for being the first team to Anvik.  Tonight Mackey received an additional $3,500 in one dollar bills as the “after dinner mint” for his efforts.

Rookie of the Year – Chad Lindner was the first rookie to pass under the burled arch in Nome.  He received $1,500 and a trophy for his efforts.

Nome Kennel Club Fastest Time Safety to Nome – Ramey Smyth completed the trek from Safety to Nome in 2 hours and 27 minutes, receiving $500 for his efforts.

Horizon Lines Most Improved Musher Award – The most improved award was given to Dallas Seavey for going from 41^st place in 2007 to sixth in 2009.

Fred Meyer Sportsmanship Award – This award includes $1,000 in Fred Meyer Gift Cards and was awarded to Aaron Burmeister for helping a musher find his team.

Chevron Most Inspirational Musher Award – Trent Herbst received this award for the work he has done in the classroom teaching his fourth grade students all about “The Last Great Race on Earth.” The honor included a trophy and $1,000 worth of Chevron gas.

Golden Stethoscope Award – This award was given to Dr. Denny Albert, the veterinarian deemed most helpful on the trail by the Iditarod Official Finishers Club.

Golden Clipboard Award – Nikolai was given this award for being the checkpoint along the Iditarod Trail that most exemplifies community teamwork.

Alaska Airlines Leonard Seppala Humanitarian Award – Lance Mackey received a trophy and two round trip tickets to anywhere on the Alaska Airlines system.  This award is given to a team in the top 20 who has best demonstrated outstanding dog care as voted by a team of veterinarians.

City of Nome Lolly Medley Golden Harness Award – This award honors an outstanding lead dog, chosen by the mushers. This year’s recipient was Kuling a 9-year-old member of Jessie Royer’s team.  Kuling has completed seven Iditarods and led this year’s team to an 8th place finish.  She has been Jessie’s lead dog for all seven of her Iditarods.

Northern Air Cargo Herbie Nayokpuk Memorial Award – Sonny Lindner received a free freight allotment on Northern Air Cargo, $1,049 cash, and a trophy.

Wells Fargo Red Lantern Award – Timothy Hunt was the final of the 52 official finishers to cross under the burled arch in Nome.  He completed the 1,049 miles in 15 days, 14 hours, 6 minutes, and 22 seconds.

Saturday, March 21st

Today was Meet the Mushers at Iditarod Headquarters in the Nome Mini Convention Center.  Hundreds of people, young and old, were there to meet and greet, and get the autographs of the mushers who finished Iditarod XXXVII.  The top three finishers, Lance Mackey, Sebastian Schnuelle, and John Baker literally took the stage to chat with fans that came by their tables.  The rest of the finishers sat behind three long rows of tables on the floor of the center, armed with their Sharpies.  Folks had such a wide variety of items to be autographed.  They brought posters, race guides, trading cards, scraps of paper, maps, calendars, t-shirts, hats, coats, bib numbers, bandanas, and newspapers to be signed.  It was a grand three-hour event.

Enjoy the slide show!

The lists of events that occur during race week are posted all over town.  Each day there are a great variety of cultural, local history, and culinary opportunities.  There are also numerous documentary movies, a host of presentations, and contests.  Today I had the opportunity to hear about how the first Iditarod was put together on the Nome end of the race.  Howard Farley was a good friend of Joe Redington and told his audience at the Nome Museum all about the early days of the race. He was fascinating.  Later I went to the library for a casual and intimate conversation with Martin Buser.  Martin was very reflective and honest about his performance. He was disappointed in his 18^th place finish, but knew that he ran the race that was right for his dogs.  He is so passionate about the Iditarod; the race that he says is the “ultimate equal opportunity sport for young and old, men and women.”  I couldn’t agree more.

I also made my way to the Native Alaskan Art Fair.  It is held in one of the many churches in town.  There were fine carvings of ivory, whalebone, and walrus, and mittens and hats made of a great variety of furs.  I enjoyed chatting with the artists and hearing their stories of how they learned their craft.  Many had learned their trade from parents and grandparents.  One artist was actually wearing 52-year-old mukluks made and previously worn by her grandmother.  That is stitching that has withstood the test of time!

At any time of the day or night anyone can drop in to Iditarod Headquarters located at the Mini Convention Center.  Many mushers gather there to chat, check email and keep up on the race.  It’s just down Front Street, a block from the burled arch.  Tomorrow from 2 to 5 p.m. is when all the mushers will gather for autographs.  I’ll be there for sure!

Watching Lance, then Sebastian and John Baker come to the finish line of The Last Great Race made it clear to me that none of these men had made it to the finish line alone.  Of course there were their dogs, the super athletes of the Iditarod, but there were others present at the end of the race that you could tell were also an important piece of these winning teams. Family and friends.  They were there to greet, hug, and congratulate these men on completing something extraordinary.  These folks were there to bask in the glory of the moment, but you could also tell that they had been a part of the journey that had led to the start of the 2009 race for each of these me n.

Here are three photographs of fathers and sons, two from this race and one from 2007. That was the year that began Mackey’s reign as Three Time Iditarod Champion.  Dick Mackey, the 1978 Iditarod champion, was there to see his son at the start of that race wearing the same number he had won in victory, bib #13.  This year Sebastian’s dad came all the way from Germany to see his son’s second place success today.  And John Baker, a native Alaskan, had his son and daughter embracing him after his third place finish.  Our families support and encourage us through our successes and our trials.

Congratulations Lance, Sebastian, and John!  This was one of the toughest Iditarods in quite a while.