North to Alaska for the Last Great Race

Top Iditarod contender Paul Gebhardt coming in to Yenta Station. photo submitted by Carly Torno It is called the Last Great Race, and it is fascinating. Being a small part of the 2009 Iditarod was an amazing experience. The race is a commemoration of the journey taken by 20 mushers and over 100 dogs that carried serum to Nome, Alaska during the 1925 diphtheria epidemic. The dog teams relayed the medicine 674 miles through terrain too dangerous for land, air, or watercraft. Officially the race is 1049 miles long representing Alaska as the 49th state, but the actual distance is closer to 1100 miles and varies depending on which course is used for the middle 300 miles, either the northern course (even years) or southern course (odd years). The first musher usually arrives in Nome approximately 10- 1 2 days after the start with teams continuing to arrive day and night for the next week and a half. This year's winner is Lance Mackey, who won his third consecutive Iditarod, taking him 9 Days 21 Hours 38 Minutes 46 Seconds.

My Iditarod experience began at the ceremonial start in Anchorage, which is always on the first Saturday in March and followed a day later by the official start out of Wasilla. The air was filled with excitement as hundreds of dogs leapt and yelped and howled and barked. These dogs are born and bred to pull, and there was no doubt about it. Once these dogs were hooked up to the musher's sled it took all the strength of the handlers to keep them from taking off. It is not unheard of to get run over by the dogs if you lose your balance or cannot dive out of the way. Adding to the excitement for non-Alaskan residents was getting a glimpse of Governor Sarah Palin as she helped kick off the race. Given her recent popularity she created quite a buzz that seemed to take the event planners by surprise. People and cameras were so packed around her I caught only a glimpse of her hair. The excitement grew as the counting down began. Spaced 2 minutes apart the mushers each got their countdown. The dogs, whose paws had barely touched the ground, finally were let go by their handlers and they leapt forward with all their might. The 37th running of the Iditarod had begun. The next stop on our trip was Yenta Station, which served as the second of 22 checkpoints for the Iditarod. The checkpoints range from 18 - 120 miles apart and provide veterinarians, officials, and food for mushers and dogs. Three rest stops are required, and one must be 24 hours. That morning, before the mushers were to arrive, we each received our assignment and spent the day preparing. My job was to call in to the checkpoint as the teams arrived. This gave everyone a good warning to make sure mushers did not get backlogged. A musher can't win a race at a checkpoint, but they can sure lose one if there is a snag in the process. The anticipation of the first musher to round the bend was all one could stand. When the helicopters circled above and the snow mobiles came around the bend we knew the mushers were soon to follow. Seeing the dogs draw near was just plain awesome. As they got closer and closer you could hear the patter of their feet, the panting getting louder with their tongues swaying back and forth, and an occasional "gee" or "haw" could be heard if the musher wanted the team to go left or right. Upon passing we would get several "hellos" and "thanks for coming out to see the race". Being only the second checkpoint, and so soon after the start of the race, the musher's were close together and did not hang around too long before getting back on the trail. It was so amazing to see the teams up close and witness the relationship the musher's had with their dogs, as well as see the incredible desire these dogs had to pull that sled. I certainly hope to get the same opportunity next year.

Carly Torno Although the Iditarod was a definite highlight of my Alaska trip, it did not end at Yenta. The next day we set out on a 3 day snow mobile trek through amazing landscapes. Trailing the teams made for extra fun as we had a sort of scavenger hunt picking up all the dog booties, used to protect their feet, which had fallen off along the trail. A dog team will easily wear out 6,000 booties in a single season, and although these booties are neat mementos, I will say it is very tough to get the dog smell out of them. Nevertheless, they are great souvenirs of The Last Great Race.