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.

Where ever I go, so goes the snow.  That’s the way it seems since I’ve been on the Iditarod Trail.  It was snowing in McGrath, so I was there an extra day.  I finally made it to Nikolai and when it was time to go, it snowed.  So, as of this posting on Thursday evening, I’m still in Nikolai.  I have to practice a little patience, knowing that eventually I will catch up with the race.

I did get to see the top three mushers go through McGrath and today I saw the last three out of Nikolai.  So, Rob Loveman may have been the last musher out of Nikolai, but he was not the last visitor to leave.  The snow kept the dropped dogs and nine of us associated with the race from flying out today.  We were a bit disappointed, but that’s the way it goes on the trail.  You’ve got to make the best of every situation.

So, how did I spend my afternoon?  I spent some quality time with the folks who live in Nikolai.  I had a great time talking to Nick Dennis, an 81-year-old elder of the village.  He told me of the early days of the Iditarod, how he used to break trail, and how the race has improved over the years.  He also told me how much has changed in Nikolai since he was a boy.  Nick learned the customs of his people, the Athebascans, that have been passed down from generation to generation.  The making of snowshoes, boats, and sleds is a dying art.  Over Nick’s lifetime he has made at least 50 sets of snowshoes and the very first set he made is on display in the school.  For many years he taught these fine traditions to the students in his shop class at Top of the Kuskokwim School.  Click the pictures below to see a larger view of Nick and his snowshoes, and to see where I’ve been sleeping while in Nikolai.

P.S.  If those snowshoes are missing from school tomorrow…I’ve borrowed them to make my way down the trail!

Watch the slide show presentation!

Tonight I’m in Nikolai, an Athebascan village of 70 on the Kuskokwim River.  The checkpoint is just off the river.  Mushers can hike up the hill to eat, take a shower, and sleep at the school.  The entire school gets ready for the Iditarod.  Under the direction of the school’s two teachers, principal and teacher, Denis Gardella and his wife, Joyce, students cook, serve, and clean up.  It’s a super busy three or four days, but lots of fun.  The boys in the kitchen prepared moose soup for dinner tonight – soup and cornbread for $10.

The Top of Kuskokwim School has 15 children, pre-kindergarten through 12.  The elementary students go to school 8:30 to 1:30 and the secondary students, 10:30 to 4:45.  These dedicated teachers normally put in long days and even longer days during the Iditarod.  Denis and Joyce roll out the red carpet for mushers and all the guests that come to Nikolai.

If it seems like I’m going in the wrong direction on the trail, you’re right.  Nikolai is the checkpoint before McGrath, not after.  I’ve found out first hand that you go where the weather allows you to fly and where there is room for you at a checkpoint.  On Tuesday, visibility was too poor for anyone to fly.  Today, Wednesday, it was clear to fly, but there was room for me at Nikolai and not at Takotna.  So, here I am!  Just like the mushers, I have to be flexible and change my plans according to the current situation.

It all turned out for the best.  I got to see Jen Seavey come off the river and chat with Trent Herbst, whom I rode with as an Iditarider at the Ceremonial Start.  Trent was taking advantage of the hot water provided by the warm and friendly people of Nikolai and bedding down his dogs for a few hours.  I plan to be in Takotna tomorrow, but I’ll just have to wait and see if that works out.

Enjoy the slide show!

The volunteer aspect of the Iditarod is huge.  People come from all over the world to volunteer for a staggering variety of jobs: veterinarians, pilots, trail guards, dog handlers, media, communications, logistics, cooks, security-the list goes on and on.  It is estimated that each year there are 1,800 to 2,000 volunteers that literally make The Last Great Race happen.  The race just couldn’t be held without those who give their time and talents, with many coming year after year.

And these are no mean talents they bring, either.  As the list above suggests, many of these people make a living doing these very jobs; however, there is no way the race would survive if all of them required payment.  They do it from their hearts, for the satisfaction of seeing something done well, and for the obvious thrill it provides to be a part of the Iditarod community.  And they are as happy, helpful, and capable a group as you could hope to find anywhere.

Is the trail marked, or do mushers and dogs find their own way?  The Iditarod Trail Breakers are some of the most hard-core snowmobilers in the world.  They make a “highway” over 1,000 miles long across Alaska.  This year 15,000 pieces of surveyor stakes with orange paint and reflective tape are used to mark the trail.  Additional ribbons and tripod markers are used in places like the Alaska Mountain Range and the Bering Sea.  The rules require that mushers must stay on the marked race trail.  That is sometimes easier said than done.

Even though the Iditarod Trail Breakers also work to keep the trails broken open and packed down, they can’t be everywhere at once.  Storms, wind, and drifts can fill in the trail and make it slow going for the teams.  Often mushers have to rely on the sled marks made by the teams ahead of them to stay on the trail.  Or they must trust completely in their dogs knowing the way when they can’t see the trail.

I had the opportunity to meet the six Iditarod Trail Breakers in McGrath.  The Trail Boss is Chuck Melon and his tough crew of five are J.R. Melon, Jesse Ripley, Daniel Ashcraft, Dustin Ashcraft, and Andrew Runkel.  They started breaking trail two days early due to the snowy weather conditions.  Their goal is to stay at least 24-hours ahead of the mushers at the front of the pack.  They headed out this morning to tackle the most difficult section of trail, Iditarod to Shaktoolik.  The race wouldn’t be the same without the hard work of the Trail Breakers.  Thanks, guys!

Enjoy the slide show!