A 1,000 mile race will inevitably have 1,000 stories to tell
as every mile along the trail seemed to provide a new challenge, vista, or
story. This particular race proved to be
no different. Due to the lack of snow
and coastal wind storms long time Iditarod mushers believe the 2014 race to be the most difficult and challenging
Iditarod in the history of the race. As
a rookie, my perspective in this race might be characterized as somewhat
naïve. Without the knowledge of what a
good trail is supposed to be like I could only take each section of trail with
a nonjudgmental openness. I was
determined from the beginning of this race to thoroughly enjoy every trail and
every checkpoint. I wanted to cherish
this grand adventure of crossing Alaska with only myself, my sled, and my
dogs. This was an ideal which proved to
be definitely easier said than done.
The 2014 routing was the Northern Route.
My dog team consisted of a wide variety of age and
experience. Four of the dogs (Summit,
Rambo, Huffy, and Speckle) are older, between 6-9 years, and were on John
Bakers’s record breaking Champion team. The seven other dogs from our kennel are
between 2-4 years old (Ears, Neo, Joy, Ghoulie, Ringo, Blaze, and Spook). We decided that it would be best for me to
leave with a smaller team of 14 dogs considering the difficult trail conditions
this year. I am certainly glad we did
that. Due to injuries in the week
leading up to the race I was in need of a few more dogs to fill out the
team. Two dogs (Heineken and Lightening)
came from Aaron Burmeister’s kennel and one dog (Papa) came from Pete Kaiser’s
kennel. My main leaders would be Ears
and Summit. Substitute leaders would be
Ghoulie, Joy, and Heineken. Although in
my need to find fresh leaders even Papa and Lightening, both two year olds, got
a chance to be in lead.
The Ceremonial Start in Anchorage was a total blast. My Idita-rider was from a software company in
Chicago which recently became a ‘Lead-Dog’ Sponsor of Iditarod. Alex Westlake rode the second sled. The most hilarious highlight was when we
attempted to pass a hotdog from our first sled to the second sled using a very
surprised spectator! This is where the
reality of what we are about to take on begins to sink in.
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| Ceremonial Start in Anchorage |
The restart begins in Willow the following day at 2pm. This is a more serious event because it is
the last opportunity to bring critical gear and have everything just
right. I was so fortunate to have a
great crew of family and friends to get me to the start line. The first 50 miles of the race is such a
party. Every ½ mile is a new bonfire
with people cheering you on and calling out your name.
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| Willow Restart (Summit and Ears in lead) |
The spectators make an effort to match your bib number up
with your name and make things very personalized. It is such a great feeling. People are handing out cans of beer, RockStar
drinks, hotdogs, and cookies.
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| Willow Restart |
The first few checkpoints are fairly full of teams but a
surprising number of them are camped outside of the checkpoints. My strategy for the first couple days of the race
was to be very conservative running the dogs on something close to an even
run/rest schedule. The trail up to
Finger Lake is relatively flat and smooth.
At Finger Lake the trail beings to climb up into the Alaska Range to the
Rainy Lake checkpoint.
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| Finger Lake Checkpoint |
It is between these checkpoints that the famous ‘Steps’
are. Being a rookie, I wasn’t even sure
where the ‘Steps’ were and when we actually passed through them. While the switchbacks were steep and
technical-it was clear that the Iditarod Trail committee had worked hard to
make this section safe. Our team had no
problems in this section. Other teams
certainly did. One musher, Jake
Berkowitz, broke his gang line, and had the front 14 dogs go down the Steps by
themselves followed shortly thereafter by himself with 2 dogs! It is an unfortunate situation but it was
caught on video which is rather hysterical to watch.
Photo: Ralph
Johannessen, from Dagali, Norway, rolls his sled as he comes down the steps
onto the Happy River between the Finger Lake and Rainy Pass checkpoints during
the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race on Monday, March 3, 2014. BOB HALLINEN —
Anchorage Daily News
Upon arrival at the Rainy Pass checkpoint it was clear that
the trail ahead to Rohn was dangerous and highly technical. The first mushers that have gone through the
trail have gotten injured or severely damaged their sleds. The checkpoint officials were recommending
that we proceed with caution and consider even staying. In order to get through this section with the
greatest degree of safety I choose to alter my race strategy by cutting the
team’s rest so that they weren’t so strong going through risky sections. In addition, leaving early would allow me to
navigate the toughest sections during the daylight. This was ultimately a good decision. The trail leaving Rainy Pass climbs high
into the mountain pass until it arrives at the Dalzell Gorge which has required
days and days of work of the Iditarod Trail Committee in order to make the
trail as safe as possible.
The descent lived up to its reputation for being a thrilling
ride! Without there being any snow the
trail was frozen dirt, ice, tree stumps, and rocks. Having little to no stopping power the dogs
were able to fly furiously down the trail.
Every second of the trail required 150% of the musher’s focus in order
to balance on the sled appropriately in order to avoid tipping over and
colliding with a tree. I actually enjoyed
the challenge of this trail as it demanded every ounce of strength and
concentration that I had. I was very
thankful for my hours of strength training and endurance efforts because this
helped to keep me fresh, alert, and physically able to maneuver down the endless
chutes of frozen dirt, ice, and rocks.
The best video by far is that of Jeff King’s Go Pro-which can be found online.
Being a rookie, I wasn’t ever even sure that the difficult
part of the Dalzell Gorge was actually over or whether a more scary section was
yet to come. I was so happy to see the
Rohn checkpoint arrive thinking that the worst was over. Rohn is beautiful place with tall pines
surrounding the checkpoint. This was the
first night that I slept in my sleeping bag next to my dogs on a pile of straw.
I learned on arriving in Rohn that the
next run to Nikolai was just as challenging as the run to Rohn. I therefore decided again that I should not
leave Rohn with fresh dogs and so left after a 4 hour break.
By that point, we had reports of over a dozen scratches. Mushers had broken ankles, broken legs,
broken sleds. It was a nightmarish run
for many mushers. People getting thrown
into trees and being unaware of where they were.
Photo: Musher
Hans Gatt has dried blood around his eyes after coming off the Farewell Burn
and into the Nikolai checkpoint during the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race on
Tuesday, March 4, 2014. Gatt hit a tree on the Burn just outside of Rohn. BOB
HALLINEN — Anc Daily News
The trail through the ‘Burn’ again had no snow. I made it through the first five miles before
totally crashing my sled. The brush brow
was already cracked from the trip through the Dalzell Gorge. After smashing into a couple trees, one
finally smashed through the brush brow and the tree made it between my sled
runners breaking the base of my sled. I
couldn’t get it separate from the tree, until fellow musher Jake Berkowitz,
helped pull the sled apart from the tree.
I wasn’t sure what repairs I could possibly make that would allow me to
make another 50 miles. The sled was
surely going to fall to pieces the next time I hit a tree. To make matters worse the plastic sled
runners (which are removable to allow for smooth gliding over the snow) had
completely been worn down going through the Gorge. So not only did I have a busted up sled but I
had no runner plastic and was running on aluminum runners. The Farewell Burn had endless numbers of
steep hills which, this year, was completely bare with sand on the uphill side
and ironically with snow on the downhill side.
I tied the sled up as best I could but couldn’t avoid having a piece of
plastic from the sled bottom constantly rubbing into the dirt. I had to stop numerous times to piece
together the sled but eventually we did make it into Nikolai. I wasn’t sure that the sled would make it but
I had many contingency plans in place in case the sled fell apart. I had creative plans of skijoring or simply
walking the entire way nursing the sled into Nikolai.
Obviously, I needed to find a new sled. After frantically searching and calling
around, Martin Buser came along and offered the use of his sled. After switching all of my gear over from the
old sled to Martin’s new sled I was ready to depart Nikolai without any
sleep. The next stop was Takotna where I
was planning to take my 24 hour rest.
Therefore, despite the need for my dogs to rest after the shortened rest
schedule, I decided to continue to Takotna thinking that once there the dogs
would have the chance to fully recuperate.
This seemed like a good decision at the time, but in hindsight I believe
this was a key error for my dogs. I
wanted to have a fully rested team at the beginning of the race but, in needing
to cut the rest short to make it through the technical trail sections, this
didn’t really happen. Ideally, I should
have rested 8 hours in Nikolai, instead of 4 hours, and then made the run to
Takotna where I would rest for another 24 hours.
The trail into Takotna is surprisingly hilly and the trail
follows a road into town. The 24 hour
rest is very much needed at that point. Sleep for the musher and food for the
dogs after the stressful trail would hopefully allow for the race to be
‘reset’. I enjoyed my 24 and learned a
lot by watching other mushers about how to walk the dogs to evaluate stiffness
and for the stretching of muscles, how to feed and snack the team regularly
while allowing for musher sleep. Both
John and I choose to cook the dog’s meals at every stop. This means adding four bottles of heet to the
cooker, starting the heet on fire, and then adding water (or snow) to the dog
pot along with chipped fish. Our dogs
LOVE cooked Sheefish which we catch and prepare up in Kotzebue. To the cooked fish we add additional chipped
beef and commercial dog food. This soup
takes about twenty minutes to prepare but it is worth the wait. The dogs all eat well and get their needed
water from the broth. During the 24 hour rest the dogs ate three
such meals along with ‘snacks’ in between of turkey skins (fat) and meat
snacks.
The trail from Takotna to Ophir was fast after the fresh
break. Most teams will go through Ophir,
being only 3 hours away from Takotna, and make their way on the long run to
Cripple (77 miles). This makes the
combined run 96 miles. Most teams will
rest half way between Ophir and Cripple for about four hours. I planned on resting 3-4 hours as well but
somehow decided to only rest 2 hours.
The team was already slowing down after we left Ophir. The ongoing long runs had appeared to have
worn the team out despite the 24 hour rest.
As a rookie musher, at this distance, I wasn’t that comfortable camping
between checkpoints. My preference had
been to run checkpoint to checkpoint.
This is also because our dogs had been training to run 70-90 miles and
have been very strong at that distance.
I expected that our team could make the run to Cripple without negative
consequence.
The run to Cripple was extremely long and slow. I rested for 6 hours in Cripple before
tackling the run to Ruby. Here again, I
planned to make the run all the way through.
Surprisingly, the run from Cripple to Ruby is not flat however. I did not bring straw to camp between the
checkpoints thinking that we would rest for 8 hours in Ruby and therefore
shouldn’t waste time resting between. If
I had brought straw, I would have definitely rested the team for 3-4
hours. So I continued on and pushed to
Ruby in order to take advantage of the amenities offered at the
checkpoints. These runs took a lot out
of my team and I feel this was a second error on my part.
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| Katherine arrives at the Cripple Checkpoint |
The Ruby checkpoint marks a big change in the trail as the
mushers drop down onto the Yukon River and make their way downriver to Kaltag
before crossing land again over to the Bering Sea Coast at Unalakleet. I took my mandatory 8 hour rest in Ruby
hoping that the long rest would invigorate my team. Unfortunately, the next run from Ruby to
Galena proved to be the longest yet. It
was a cold night, -35F, and my level of fatigue was very high. I kept falling asleep no matter how many 5
hour energies I took. This was endlessly
frustrating and the team was literally walking!
I couldn’t do anything to speed them up.
I switched out every leader I had until I found a pair that seemed to
work well together-Summit and Joy. In
addition, my fatigue caused me to miss the fact that a cable neckline was
dangling from Ringo’s neck. The dangling
neckline had bounced up and hit Ringo’s eye causing it to get cut. RIngo had to be dropped at the next
checkpoint to receive veterinary attention.
This was the lowest point in the race for me. My fatigue and pure exhaustion led to a great
dog getting hurt. I was so proud of
Ringo up to this point for doing so well and had really looked forward to him
making it to Nome.
I was a bit of a mess in Galena, crying about Ringo, and worried about my
dogs. I realized I had to drastically
change my schedule to allow for an equal run/rest schedule with the hopes of
getting to the coast with a team that could race. So our team rested for 6 hours in Galena, 6
hours in Nulato, and 6 hours in Kaltag. This
enhanced rest did appear to be working as the team started eating better and
picked up their speed. The trip from
Kaltag to Unalakeet was intimidating for me.
This was a long run when I was really working to take short runs with
frequent rests. I planned taking a 6
hour rest at the Old Woman shelter cabin which lies about halfway between
checkpoints.
My rest at the Old Woman shelter cabin was by far my favorite
stop! I loved camping out with the
dogs. This really changed my view of
camping between checkpoints. It was so
quiet and peaceful providing me with a great opportunity to care for and
connect with the dogs.
After traveling over miles of glare ice I finally arrived at
Unalakleet with a great sense of relief.
Jack Smith, Andy Baker, Andy Angstman, Midi Johnson, and others were
there to welcome me there at 1:00 am.
This was a pivotal point for us because it meant the arrival to the
coast where I hoped the dogs would feel really at home. I rested in Unalakleet for 8 hours before
making my way over to Shaktoolik. I was
warned in Unalakleet that a winter storm warning had been issued and that we
would be facing high winds. There is
really no choice but to move forward and start the trek over the bare Blueberry
Hills to the glare ice and high winds in Shaktoolik. The
north winds were head on at 40 mph and were going to be increasing over the
night. The team did well crossing the
glare ice despite being pushed around.
Photo: Iditarod
musher Jessie Royer, from Darby, MT, mushes over bare tundra on the Blueberry
Hills out of the Unalakleet checkpoint during the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race
on Sunday, March 9, 2014. BOB HALLINEN — Anchorage Daily News
When getting to Shaktoolik I was faced with a choice of
whether to proceed into the 40 mph headwind or wait the storm out in Shaktoolik
for the next couple days with over a dozen other teams. Another musher, Paige Dronby, was anxious
like myself to leave Shaktoolik. The
dogs would not be able to rest well at this checkpoint due to the lack of wind
protection. Paige and I believed that if
we left soon we would be able to beat the storm and make it to Koyuk which had
better shelter to rest the dogs. I left
with 2 hours of rest on the dogs. I
almost immediately regretted leaving as the glare ice leaving Shaktoolik had
both of us walking in front of our teams leading them across glare ice that
neither human or dog could get much traction on. I was very thankful for the ice cleats that
John had given to me prior to leaving Anchorage. That
run out of Shaktoolik had me walking in front of the dogs as often as I was on
the sled.
Photo: An
Iditarod musher crosses a frozen pond between the Shaktoolik and Koyuk
checkpoints during the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race on Sunday, March 9, 2014.
BOB HALLINEN — Anchorage Daily News
It took a long time to get away from Shaktoolik and once we
did there was still a long way to go and the winds were increasing at a harder
and faster rate than was expected. 15
miles out of Shaktoolik there was a sharp turn in the trail which was poorly
marked that my team, along with many others, didn’t quite get. The dogs had to go into a cross wind for a
mile across glare ice. The situation
soon became very serious when the wind gusts, now over 60 mph, began blowing
myself and the entire team sideways along the ice in a situation that I had
little to no control over. My leaders
had become scared and were no longer able to steer the team. In fact, they couldn’t even hear my commands over
the howling wind. After two hours of
attempting to get on the trail, I had to re-evaluate my decision to proceed to
Koyuk and make a new plan which allowed me to have the greatest number of
options which would get myself and my team through the night safely. This was now a life threatening situation not
just about the race anymore. I was wet
from sweat, working to get the dogs walking in the right direction, and there
was no help coming. A shelter cabin was
nearby which would offer protection from the wind. So we inched our way to the shelter cabin
thinking that this would leave us the greatest number of options. I could stay at the cabin, I could go back to
Shaktoolik, or I could continue on to Koyuk.
Staying at the cabin was limited in time because of the finite amount of
food I had for the dogs and myself.
The shelter cabin had no wood and I was needing to be on
guard to stay warm and keep the dogs warm.
The cabin offered little shelter for the dogs so I decided to take my
females, and main leader Summit, inside the cabin. I was going to need them to get us through
the storm into Koyuk the next day and they needed all the rest they could
get. The wind shook the shelter cabin
all night finally letting up about 10 am the next morning. Unfortunately, the visibility also dropped to
¼ mile or less. Regardless, we needed to
keep moving so I hooked up the dogs are we slowly made our way to Koyuk. The wind was still relentless and the glare
ice made travel difficult and slow. I
switched out the leaders every hour to keep them fresh. The storm had brought in large snow drifts
which really took a toll on the team.
Eventually we made it to Koyuk and rested there for 6 hours before
moving onto Elim. I kept thinking to
myself that all I had to do was make it to the next stake. Find the next stake, go after the next stake,
make it to the next stake, and search for the next one. This
went on for 35 miles. I finally arrived
at Koyuk a bit shaken up but was surrounded by school kids asking questions and
wanting my autograph. One little girl
eagerly helped to put out straw for the dogs.
They really cheered me up and helped me to realize that I just had to
suck it up and keep my head in the game.
There was still a race going on. Besides,
the dogs were looking and feeling great.
The storm was harder on me than the dogs. They were eating great.
The trail to Elim was beautiful-hard and fast most of the
way-with the exception of the new snow drifts.
We left at night which is the dog’s favorite time to run. My team was first out of Elim and took the
burden on of breaking out the trail.
After 10 miles the faster teams behind me caught up and broke out the
remaining trail. I was thankful when
they passed us.
The trail from Elim to White Mountain was notoriously
difficult. Not only for the large amount
of hill climbing but also for the glare ice between Golovin and White
Mountain. The climbing was pretty
intense but the views were very rewarding.
There was also no wind the day that I crossed Golovin Bay so the glare
ice posed no real issue as it did for so many teams ahead of us that scratched. Another challenge for many teams is getting
through the town of Golovin itself. The
trail goes into the town and straight down the main road with kids running
alongside the team. At this point the
dogs are tired and looking for an excuse to take a break. Meaning that distractions are tempting for
all of us. Luckily our team kept focused
and moved through Golovin without too much difficulty.
At White Mountain everyone is required to take an 8 hour
rest prior to tackling the remaining 77 miles of trail to Nome. The trail to Safety consists of yet more
climbing. The highest point is actually
called ‘Little McKinley’. After this
summit the trail drops down for 2 miles to the coast. There was little snow on this descent again
and my sled brake finally gave out on me.
This made things quite exciting for a while. Careening down steep rocky slopes with an
excited dog team and no good way to slow them down. I managed to stop a couple times to wire the
brake together-knowing that after this hill I would have little use for the
brake for the rest of the trip. The
weather was reasonable during the climbing but once dropping down to the coast
we started moving north through what is nicknamed the ‘Blow Hole’. Conditions deteriorated quickly into 10 feet
of visibility with wind blowing 30-40 mph.
The dogs were needing to cross glare ice with sand and then snow
drifts. The wind would blow the sled
sideways into tripods and tree stumps and anything else in between. I despairingly realized we still had a LONG
way to go to make it to the finish line.
The dogs were doing the best they could to keep the pace up but we were
moving pretty slow. The fresh snow that
had fallen caused significant drag on my sled making progress seemingly
painstaking.
The checkpoint of Safety is 22 miles outside of Nome and is
also a scary point for mushers. I needed
to drop a dog, Heineken, and the remaining dogs were thinking this was a great
place to hang out for a while to escape the storm. After numerous attempts of the dogs to stay
near the straw we finally left the checkpoint.
After about 300 feet the dogs decided that instead of their usual 7.5
mph pace they wanted to go 4.5 mph. They
were wanting to quit-if only they knew we were less than three hours from the
end... I had to stop the team and
evaluate the situation. This consisted of me snacking the dogs then sitting on
my sled crying out loud for a good 10 minutes.
I was just imagining everyone in Nome waiting for me to finish but the
finish seemed farther away from me than ever.
After my little pity party was over, I calmly switched around the dogs
and put in new leaders. I made the
decision that even if I was going to push the sled the whole way-even if we
went 4.5 mph the whole way-it was better than sitting on the sled crying in the
middle of a snow storm. So 4.5 mph was
what we did all the way to Nome. With me
kicking, running, and poling with everything I had. After a few hours we got closer to Nome and
I began to feel like the team just might make it to the finish line. I still didn’t put on my bib until I was
about 3 miles out of Nome!
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| Arriving in Nome |
People began driving out on the roads and cheering the team
on and the dogs and I began to feel pretty excited. At long last we dropped down onto the ice in
front of Nome and I could hear the siren, which is blown to indicate the
arrival of a dog team, welcoming us to Nome.
The trail goes up a small hill onto the front street of Nome where all
the people are saying ‘Good Job’ and ‘Congratulations’! Even though I came in as the 32nd
team I felt like a Champion! The short
jaunt down Front Street won’t be forgotten.
The Burled Arch beckons us in where a crowd awaits. Amelia was there waiting to ride on the sled
with me to the finish line! I wasn’t
sure the dogs would pull both her and me so I grabbed her arm and she ran with me
into the finish chute. Mom was there and
she was crying with relief for us getting there. I told her not to cry because this is a total
celebration-we made it! Mostly it was
because I didn’t want to cry! It is so
easy for me to get carried away with exhaustion, frustration, and
disappointment for all the struggles we had along the trail. I was determined to focus on the sheer
feeling of accomplishment and joy that we actually made it 1049 miles to
Nome!
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| Finish Line in Nome |
After checking in and going through the interviews and
mandatory sled checklist the team was taken away down to the dog lot. It almost felt like a piece of me was being
taken away as I watched them go knowing that our great adventure together was
at an end. That didn’t mean I wasn’t
happy to see our handler Nick on his way to care for them and feed them instead
of me! Eight out of fourteen dogs finished the entire
race. The finishing team was Summit,
Ears, Joy, Neo, Huffy, Ghoulie, Papa, and Lightening. Summit and Ears led together for 90% of the
race. They did an incredible job keeping
us all safe and on the trail. Ghoulie
and Heineken shared some of the leading responsibility when I wanted to give Summit
or Ears a break. Even Papa and
Lightening were given a chance to run up front and they did a great job for
their first time in lead. All dogs gave
110% the entire way.
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| Post Race Fatigue |
Knowing the dogs were being cared for I went to our hotel
room, took a long hot shower, ate a super great meal, and enjoyed the company
of all my family and friends that I had missed out on for the past couple
weeks. Now that a few days have gone by
and my body is feeling rested I notice a bit of restlessness. I look outside at this clear sunny day and
recall those gorgeous days climbing through the Alaska Range or when I first
dropped down to Unalakleet and saw the ocean coast, and I start dreaming about
the next adventure…
Arriving into Nome
