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!

Nome is a city of 3500 people and at this time of year the population seems to double with Iditarod fans.  The town comes to life for the Iditarod with a wide assortment of activities.  First and foremost among them is the celebrating that goes on at the finish line of the Last Great Race.  At all hours of the day and night, the fire siren sounds to announce that another winning musher is about to cross under the burled arch.  Folks rush to Front Street to cheer, take photographs, and listen to the live interviews of each one.  At that moment, each tired but elated musher embraces the motto of this community, “There’s no place like Nome!”

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!

I flew into Nome today right after Lance Mackey made it to the finish line.  I could see from the air that the crowd had gathered around the burled arch.  I wasn’t too disappointed that I didn’t get to see him win the race.  After all, I did have dinner with him the night before in White Mountain, and I did make it to his post finish interview.  While Lance was talking about his dogs and giving them full credit for the win, tears came to his eyes and his wife, Tonya, handed him a tissue.

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.

Lance Mackey.  He is amazing.  This evening he breezed along the Fish River into the checkpoint at White Mountain, hours ahead of the competition.  After checking in, Lance moved routinely, methodically, through a long to-do-list.  First, he put down straw; sometimes he even dumped the straw right on top of the dogs for more warmth.  He pulled off their booties, opened three bottles of Heet, lit a fire, and began boiling water for the dog’s food.  While the water was heating, Lance pulled jackets out of the sled, straightened each one and put them in a pile.  After putting the jackets on the dogs, the water was heated; the frozen meat added to the water.  Lance put kibble (dry dog food) in each bowl and poured the hot meaty broth over it, serving the dogs in the same order every time.  Once they had eaten, he massaged the paws of some of the dogs and then they were set for their eight-hour rest.

Lance managed to take care of his dogs in the midst of chaos.  There were hundreds of people standing around.  The media was filming and taking still shots and interviewing him while he was working.  The vets are also caught in this jumble of people, checking each dog and making notes in Lance’s Vet Book.  Lance and his dogs seem to take all of this attention in stride.  Neither are distracted enough to interfere with what they are suppose to be doing.  The dogs ate their dinner and curled up and went to sleep.  Lance took care of them, never losing his concentration while answering non-stop questions.

While Lance was working, his mom surprised him by coming to the checkpoint.  She gave him a huge hug.  Lance said to his mom, “Aren’t these dogs superstars?”  Her response, “You are a Superstar!”

The “Superstar” may receive the big prize tomorrow under the burled arch in Nome, for the third time.

Unalakleet is like nothing you have ever seen before.  It is on the coast of the Norton Sound entering the Bering Sea.  As far as you can see in any direction it is icy and white.  Last night the wind chill made the temperature feel like it was 50 degrees below zero!  It is definitely the coldest place I’ve been on the trail.  The snowdrifts are 7 to 10 feet high in town and it has made it a little difficult for me to keep my bearings.  After being in the Athabascan villages of Nikolai, McGrath, and Grayling, Unalakleet feels like a big city.   It is the largest checkpoint on the trail with cars and trucks and snow machines moving the 600 inhabitants around town.  The native people here are Inupiat (Eskimo).

The school in Unlakleet is very involved with the race.  Once the mushers arrive, the student broadcast team from the Bering Strait School District (BSSD) goes full speed ahead with interviews, filming, and editing.  Their products are aired on a program moderated by Chick Beckley that is broadcast to schools in Alaska and the lower 48.  I was invited to participate in the live broadcast this morning.  It was such a thrill to be in Unalakleet and chat and answer questions from students in Minnesota and Florida.  The other amazing piece is that I knew the teachers in those schools!  Sheryl Cater teaches in Eden Prairie, Minnesota.  We spent time together just last week at the 2009 Iditarod Teacher’s Conference in Anchorage, and at the restart of this year’s race in Willow.  Bonnie (a teacher from Merrit Island, Florida) and I both met at the 2006 Iditarod Summer Conference.  She has the quilt the teachers made in 2006 on display in her classroom.  This is truly instructional technology that empowers teachers and students.  This BSSD project is an outstanding example of how Iditarod brings learning to life for students around the world.  Their web site is: http://mushing.bssd.org.  For photos and video go to: http://mushingmedia.bssd.org.

Wow!  It is all happening at the school!  The David Louis Memorial School is where all the mushers in Grayling stayed last night.  After caring for their dogs they came into the school to prepare their own food.  Then the race chatter began.

“Where is Lance?”

“How long did it take him to get to Eagle River from Grayling?”

“How long did it take Hugh?”

“Has Sebastian taken his eight hour?”

“How many dogs does he have?”

“Which of the other mushers have made it to Eagle River?”

“How long did it take them?”

“What’s the weather forecast?”

“Is there more wind upriver?”

“How long have the front teams been resting?”

And on the questions went with each new arriving musher.  You could see each one weighing the information and working out what they should do next.  How long should they rest?  When should they hit the trail?  What a treat it was to be a part of their camaraderie and conversation, to glimpse into their world.

At the time they were so thankful to be able to come into the school, out of the wind.  But not for long.  They didn’t enter this race to escape the elements.  In fact, fundamentally, they entered it to test themselves against those very elements.  It’s the whole point-in a weird way, they are truly in their element only when they walk out of the school, step back on their sleds, and bark, “Hike!”

Speaking of being in one’s element, I am spending a lot of time in schools while I am in Alaska, both on the trail and off.  As an educator, it is both instructive and fascinating to see how others deal with the challenges all educators face in one way or another: space, weather, technology, curriculum development, discipline, etc, etc.  Character development is one of those challenges, and one of the reasons the Iditarod has always had a strong pull on me-it exemplifies so much of the character that we are trying to instill in our students and children.  So, while visiting in the Athabascan communities of Nikolai, McGrath, and Grayling, I have thrilled to see this list posted in each of the schools.  It is entitled, “Athabascan Values.”   Compare this list of good character traits to the character education program you use in your school.

Athabascan Values

Self Sufficiency

Hard Work

Care and provision for family

Family Relations

Unity

Humor

Honesty

Fairness

Love for Children

Sharing

Caring

Village Cooperation

Responsibility to Village

Respect for Elders and others

Respect for knowledge

Wisdom from life experiences

Respect for the Land

Respect for Nature

Practice of Traditions

Spirituality

The sharing and caring by teachers for their communities and for these Iditarod mushers has been truly remarkable.  School is a vital part of these communities well after 3 o’clock in the afternoon.

Watch the slide show presentation!

Watch the slide show presentation!

Saturday, March 14

2 degrees, clear skies

Sunrise on the Yukon.  It is a beautiful clear morning in Grayling, and we can see how the teams are spreading out.  The first team in last night was Jeff King, followed by Sebastian Schnuelle, Aaron Burmeister, and Lance Mackey.  The first three stayed, and Lance breezed through this checkpoint.

When I got up this morning I could just begin to see the pinks, purples, and yellow of the rising sun.  It was breathtaking!  I ran out to snap some shots of the new day and find out who had come in while I was sleeping.  I felt so fortunate to see several ladies of the race.  Aliy Zirkle was preparing to leave, Jesse Royer was snacking her dogs, and within the hour I watched Dee Dee Jonrowe pull into the checkpoint.  What a thrill!

At the front of this race there appears to be no weak teams.  The top 15 or so teams are all strong and capable.  The dogs of these teams are highly energized and eating well.  Even at this point in the race, the first team into Grayling may not be the first team into Nome.  There are still far too many challenges to predict a winner yet.  This race is very interesting.

Once again, just like in Nikolai, this village is making the mushers feel very welcome.  Grayling has opened the school for mushers to get water, to shower, and spend the night.  The children are so excited about the race.  They were running, leading the way into the school to show the mushers where to get water.  The teachers at David-Louis Memorial School guided mushers to the classrooms where they had provided extra mats for them to sleep on.  They even had a sign on the door, “Shh, Musher’s Sleeping!” In fact, Jeff King and Hans Gatt slept a few hours in the classroom beside the one I slept in last night.  It is important for the mushers to catch naps when they can.

The mushers appreciate Grayling for its fine hospitality; it is also a good place to escape the flow of cold air on the river.  Many have taken the opportunity to give their teams the mandatory 8-hour break (required somewhere along the Yukon).  Others will rest at least 6 hours here because the next push is a tough 60 miles on the Yukon River to Eagle Island.  Resting on the river is a poor place to rest because there are no wind breaks.

I believe I’ll take a rest too, a rest from writing.  I’m going to see what’s happening at the checkpoint.