Showing posts with label rambling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rambling. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 17, 2021

Bringing Iditarod 49 to a close

Full on confession time - I absolutely hate the end of the Iditarod. For many mushers and fans alike Iditarod is a lot like Christmas... weeks to months long planning and preparation and it's gone in a blink of an eye. I no joke sing/hum "It's the most wonderful time of the year" during the week leading up to Iditarod. That's how important this race feels. I know I'm not the only one, but I may be the only one willing to publicly admit it (I have this semi-secret dream that Rick Swenson gets all giddy this time of year and decorates and celebrates the race week... though maybe not this year since his record was tied). I'm to the point where I want to leave out cookies and hot tang for the Spirit of Joe Redington Senior and salmon snacks for all the amazing sled dogs who've run this race and have since gained their "silver harness". Probably creepy and a little too much information (I'm gonna get blacklisted as a creepy person who needs to be committed, I just know it). 

But, seriously, this is an event I look forward to all year. The countdown to the picnic (Volunteer appreciation, ITC Member Meeting, and Iditarod race sign ups) that happens mid summer starts the second the red lantern is extinguished (well... this year, most years it's after the banquet... but... well... covid). Then the countdown to the beginning of the race season. Then the countdown to the race itself. Sure, the mushers are still recooperating... but we've heard so many of them already talking about next year.

Next year. Next year will be Iditarod 50. That's such an achievement. Against all odds the first race went off in 1973. It was a "we do this now or we never will" type race. Loved ones cried as their men went off with their dogs into an unknown race that many believed they would never come back from. The promised purse wasn't even paid for when the teams left Anchorage! Everyone talks about "Seward's Folly" when Alaska was bought from Russia, but the Iditarod was certainly going to be "Joe's Folly" if it flopped from the get go.

The race would go on to evolve every decade or so. Better equipment, better training, better dog care... women dominating the race in the 90s. Huge purses and personalities in the 90s. Records made, records broken. Faster and faster finish times. Our red lanterns are now finishing in fewer days than some of the legends in the race did just 25 years ago. 

Trails have changed. The starting point has changed so many times it's crazy. Low snow. No snow. Bering Sea breaking up ahead of the race. You have to wonder if Joe Redington would even recognize his race with all of the changes that have happened just since his passing. Would Susan Butcher? 

Yes. While I think they'd probably fight like most of the other "old dawgs" against some of the changes, the ultimate goal of protecting and preserving the Alaska Sled Dog is still the same. Sure, there are things that need to be worked on more. Joe wanted to preserve the culture of the sled dog within the villages that birthed it. Costs of racing, much less travel and just basic kennel care, are enormous. We're to the point where very few Native Alaskan mushers are able to participate. It's still alive and well in certain communities (Huslia and Bethel both come to mind), but how do we translate it to the "Last Great Race"? This was a question Joe had "back in the day" and it continues. Mushers like Pete Kaiser, though, help get that back in the spotlight to inspire the next generation. 

I ramble. But as we look toward the huge milestone of 50 years, there's the question of what does the future hold past 50? How does the race survive climate change, culture change? There are more top teams than ever. The field this year was insanely competitive. There's no lack of interest in the race from participants, to volunteers, to fans. Iditarod isn't going anywhere, but it's interesting to dream about what it will look like in another 10, 20, or even 50 years.


Tonight the last two mushers of Iditarod 49 will come into the finish. It's unknown which will get to extinguish the red lantern, but what an accomplishment. It will be a celebration of the dogs, the mushers, the race. In a year that we weren't even sure there would be a race. A year that saw the race stay away from traditional checkpoints, go to Iditarod and back. No Nome, no Takotna Pies, Peace on Earth Pizza... but it happened. There were bumps - there always are - but overall the race was a success. It persevered as it always does. As the sport always does. As the mushing lifestyle always does. As the state always does.

When Victoria Hardwick and Dakota Schlosser cross the finish line, it will close the latest chapter of the Last Great Race on Earth. The stories will continue to be told as mushers finally come off of their race high and come back to reality. Volunteers will share their memories and photos. But then spring (and so much frozen dog poop turning to mush... ah Springtime in Alaska), and summer with a cobbled together tourist season, and before we know it it will be fall and the training season.

I believe this was one of the best races we've had in a long time. It looked different, it felt different, but the stories and the people and the coming together... I want to remember this year for a long, long time.



Thank you to everyone who've allowed me to ramble on this blog, who've listened to the Dog Works Radio Iditarod Podcast and given so much positive feedback and encouragement, and allowing me to really clog up your social media timelines with my IditaSpam. I LOVE this race. I LOVE the people who run the race. I LOVE the dogs! And I love being able to talk about it with people. I love sharing my love for it and my knowledge and my thoughts. This is the most rambly blog post I've done in a long while, so I'll end it here. But THANK YOU. This has been the best season for my blog in 10 years, and I very very much appreciate the support! The race season isn't done, so hopefully I keep the momentum and finish out the season for the blog. Stay tuned. I have goals and plans for this blog... just need to find the drive and the know how to do it.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Alaskan... spring?

Sitting in my room watching the large, clean white flakes fall from the light grey sky, I have to ask: where is spring?

This happens every year - for at least as long as I can remember - the battle between spring and winter starts late february and goes all the way through May until, quite suddenly, summer comes out of nowhere. While most of the rest of the world enjoys four distinct seasons, Alaska is a mystery. There are only two true distinct seasons - summer and winter - with fall and spring meshing interestingly with winter. Who knows why God works it that way up here, but I think it's mirrored in the Alaskan emotions...

Or, well, at least mine.

I am ready for spring/summer. Warmth. Biking. Walking. Taking the dog to the dog parks and letting her romp, off leash, without the worry of moose sticking to the trail - or the dog getting too cold five seconds after getting there.

At the same time, there's an excitement and joy I get watching the large flakes come down - if they're small it's not as pretty, nor is it as much fun to watch - I'm not sure if that comes from the fact that I'm having a hard time letting go of my childhood, or if it's because it's a strictly Alaskan thing that snow means a whole lot more than cold.

Sure, I gripe about it right along with the next guy, but deep down there's something special, beautiful and exciting about the event of a freak spring snow storm.



Though if it all melts by morning so the roads are clear so I can get to work, I won't be complaining.