The Last Great Race........Iditarod XLVI

After a long day of travel, we arrived in Anchorage on the eve of the Iditarod ceremonial start. We were met by our daughter Carlisle and in no time were at our friend Barb's house on the corner of 10th and Cordova. For years, Barb has provided needed shelter and food for weary travelers like ourselves. She epitomizes the saying of "walking in as a stranger and leaving as part of the family".  Alaska is so large and rural, that many folks must work away from their families for weeks at a time. For them, Barb's is a home rather than a motel room. The following day, many past lodgers returned to celebrate the race with Barb. Advantageously, her house sits beside the 11 mile route taken by mushers in the ceremonial start.

Fur was worn without shame.

We quickly fell into the pre-race day brunch routine of egg and ham casserole, hash browns, buttermilk pancakes, link sausage and best of all, mimosas and bloody marys. The mushers' profiles were carefully surveyed and 4 mushers were chosen to receive a complimentary cocktail lovingly prepared by George, one of the many pilots Barb has housed over the years.  The first mimosa would go to our Talkeetna friend, Anja Radano, running in her first Iditarod, next, a bloody mary for the mushing mortician, veteran musher, Scott Janssen, a funeral home owner from Anchorage, then, Andy Pohl, aka the choir boy due to his angelic boyish face and finally, Katherine Keith, a musher from Kotzebue. Katherine has not only climbed Devil's Tower, hiked the Pacific Crest Trail solo from Mexico to the Canadian border, completed 6 ironman triathlons, but also survived the tragic drowning deaths of her husband and young son. After this sad event, she went back to school, got her pilot's license, became an EMT and earned a degree in Energy Engineering. She now shares a kennel with former Iditarod champion, John Baker where they care and train more than 70 Alaskan huskies. All of our selected mushers seemed worthy recipients of our cocktails.

A perfect handoff by Carlisle to Anja!

Mike Williams Jr. welcomes the outstretched mittened hands of spectators. Everyone wants to receive a slap from the musher. In place of candy, dog booties are sometimes thrown to the crowd to be cherished by those able to grab them .

 

Our new friend Rob helps his grandson, Junior, extend out for a slap from Wade Marrs. Two bright blue booties were tossed his way, bringing a huge smile to his face.

A favorite team of mine, Jim Lanier and his all white huskies. The sled is being driven by his handler. Jim is the oldest of this year's competitors at 77 years young.

Carlisle and I walked from Barb's the few blocks to 4th Ave and the start line. Here we were met by the barking of huskies while they waited to depart. Each team was led to the line and announced. Iditarod volunteers, often ten or more to a team, strained to hold the anxious dogs back with the musher standing hard on the brake. There was no doubt these dogs were ready to race. Music played and spectators from near and far enjoyed the sights.

                                                                     cold beer here!

With light snow falling and after watching 67 teams and over 1000 dogs mush through downtown Anchorage, we bid Barb and friends farewell and headed north on slippery highway to our cabin in Talkeetna. We saw numerous accidents and cars off the road, however, Bucky was more interested in counting moose, ending with a total of 41. They waddled up to their bellies in the deep snow eating the tips of willow poking through . I was relieved when we safely pulled into our drive. 

The following day we drove about 30 miles south to witness the official Iditarod start on Willow Lake. The day was clear and sunny.....perfect for families to arrive by airplane, snow machine and like us by car. Some folks skied out onto the lake. Cookouts filled the air with the smell of burgers and dogs. We passed a few picnics that were hard to walk by and I had the feeling no one would have objected to us grabbing a beer and a dog. We were anxious to find our friend Anja and her Swamp Dawgs to wish her good luck. She was easy to locate with the dog trucks parked in a circle and in numerical order by bib number.

                                                                 all smiles!

Anja's handler, Kevin, puts booties on Stella. This task is repeated dozens of times throughout the race on this team of 16 dogs. Once on the trail, Anja will have no help from her handler. For those who think dressing kids to go outside is work, try putting 64 booties on kicking feet!

                                                  Anja's new blue parka........looks warm!

Libby Riddle's kennel. She didn't drive her dogs and I'm not sure who did. She seemed to be a race ambassador. In 1985, she became the first woman to win the Iditarod.

 Dee Dee Jonrowe's dog truck. Dee Dee plans to retire after this Iditarod, her 36th start. A personal battle with cancer has her loving pink. She is a colorful lady and loved dearly by those in the sport of mushing. Unfortunately, at the time of this writing, she has scratched from the race siting health concerns making it impossible to care for her team and like all good mushers, the dogs are her main priority.

This is the professional team of Aliy Zirkle. She has come close to winning this race several times and has a huge backing of both sponsors and fans. She raced her first Iditarod in 2001 and has started and finished every year since. Aliy's husband Allen Moore is also in the race. Aliy was born in New Hampshire.

                                                                   

                                               Willow Lake with the start in the distance.

            Talkeetna friends and neighbors who, like us, are here to cheer for Anja. 

                                                  2017 Champion, Mitch Seavey

We waited, shuffled along the fence and I couldn't help but wonder what Anja's thoughts were as she was about to set off on a huge adventure, one she had prepared years for. It was my hope to make contact one last time over the flimsy orange fence used to keep spectators out of the track. Bucky and I had walked away from the start and further out onto the lake where the crowd was thinner. The food smells were overwhelming and I readily accepted a homemade chocolate chip cookie from Mary, one of Talkeetna's best bakers. Scott Jenssen wearing bib number 23, driving one of two teams of Siberians Huskies in the race, passed by. Most mushers run Alaskan Huskies which are mixed breed dogs. Some look like sled dogs, but others look like hounds. Next, would be bib number 24, Anja!

I yelled Anja's name and she turned my way, leaning out over the runners to reach for my hand. I thought back on Junior doing the very same thing the day before. As our mittens touched, I had a chance to wish her luck before she was whisked away. I smiled for a long while after that. It was exciting to be part of something so meaningful to a good friend. The snow on the lake, heated by the afternoon sun, flew up behind her lead dog Butcher's feet as they pulled forward. Could this young dog possibly know what lay ahead?.....987 miles to go!! 

Presently, Anja is in Nikolai. She has been on the trail for over 200 miles. While we sleep, she'll be traveling by headlamp during the cool night. She's required to take one 8 hour and one 24 hour lay over. It's always interesting to see where the mushers choose to take their rest. It often results in position change among the leaders. Reports are that the trail is soft between Nikolai and McGrath with temperatures around 30 degrees, just what mushers hate. Anja has dropped one dog and I have a feeling it could be my favorite, Stella Blue who barely made the team. 

If you are interested in following Anja and her Swamp Dawgs use www.iditarod.com or like her fb page, Swamp Dog Kennel. She's bib number 24, Anja Radano.

Home

The sun beating down through a cloudless sky makes it feel more like July than the end of August. But, the incessant chirping of crickets lodged in our stone wall, speaks the truth.....Fall is arriving. These are the glory days, the savored last days of summer, quiet days when the world seems almost to have stopped. Parents have returned to work from their vacations and the kids are back in school. The birds are even silent as they prepare to leave. Only the squirrels continue to chatter in glee while dropping Spruce cones to the ground, landing with a hard thud, to be retrieved later and stored in their midden. Summer is ending, the season most of us long for all year. A lunch of sliced tomatoes, warm from the garden and pepper dotted cucumber wedges will soon be a thing of the past, replaced by tomato soup and grilled cheese. I've already washed and folded the beach towels, storing them in the linen closet. Shamu, the inflatable killer whale, lies deflated in its plastic sack down cellar. At the pond, near the large rock, blackberries beckon to be picked. Only a few weeks ago, small tan bodies laid here on towels getting warmed by the sun.

Bucky and I left Alaska on July 18th. When returning to Vermont, I'm always astounded by my home state's beauty.  As we drove down the highway from Boston to Burlington, the landscape unfolded like the pages of an artist's sketch book. Layers of green cascaded from the tops of the Green Mountains to the teal rivers tucked in valleys below. Emerald green, forest, fern and moss green hills, layered on top of one another like the rounded backs of turtles, eventually stretching upward to meet a cornflower blue sky.

Lake Dunmore

Our first task was to drive to the Northeast Kingdom and mow the lawn of our cabin. We don't spend much time here during the summer, as we are usually in Alaska. For the past 5 summers, the cabin grass has been mowed by our generous neighbor, Bernie. Sadly, Bernie died this past year allowing our lawn to return to nature.

lots of apple this year

Bee balm

mowed

On August 12th we gathered as a family at Lake Dunmore. Instead of the predicted rain, it was fun in the sun. Bucky and I found ourselves sitting back watching the activities feeling strangely like our own grandparents must have felt at this age. Our youngest family member was 10 days old and Bucky was the eldest at 71. We found that our nap time was surprisingly close to that of the childrens'! The circle is closing!

                                                        Waterhouses on Lake Dunmore

small, medium and large

cousins......minus one

first time fishing

Blackberries are now ripe for picking and the sun fades from the sky more quickly. Late summer provided us with one last opportunity to gather. Again, on a weekend that was predicted to be rainy, we headed to "camp". (for background, see the past post titled Camp) Camp lies on South Hero, one of the Champlain Islands. It's a special place that holds decades of memories for me and years of memories for the rest of the family. Sixty three years ago, my parents built the original wooden camp, nestling it against a rock ledge behind, and the open lake in front. It was here that my parents, grandparents, my brother, sister and I spent hours swimming, boating and fishing. With the neighbor kids we filled summer nights playing hide and seek, smoking the occasional cigarette and finding lots of excuses to drive to town. Rainy days slipped slowly by, with canasta, hearts and never ending games of monopoly. We fought, we laughed, we applied countless band aids to skinned body parts, sported a few plaster casts and felt as free as we ever have. Each time I return, those summer memories stream through my mind like a favorite movie.....part comedy, part adventure thriller and part summer romance.

                                                  Looking south toward Burlington

"Little Steamer", camp's original aluminum boat and the red sunfish we sailed as kids, still hold spots on the beach.

a new camp stands where the old wooden camp once stood

lots of sitting, looking and talking goes on at camp

In a few days, Bucky and I will return to Alaska. Notice I didn't say, fly home. Vermont will always be home. On September 17th we'll travel above the Arctic Circle in search of caribou. With luck, we'll have meat to process before loading our RV and heading east, 4,800 miles and home.

Looking Back....of moose and mushing!

This post was written 4 years ago. It was fun looking back at photos of the dogs in Anja's kennel, in the fall of 2013. Anja and her Alaskan huskies are now Swamp Dawg Kennel. In March, they will compete in dog sledding's greatest event, the Iditarod! Over the years, it's been such fun to watch from the sideline and witness the progresssion to Swamp Dawg Kennel. 

Yesterday with my girl, Stella

8/13/13

The thermometer this morning read 41 degrees, but by afternoon the temperature reached 65 degrees.  The hours of 4-7 are just glorious and then darkness settles in rapidly.  Our campfires are now appreciated for both their warmth and light. 

Road work has been happening on our road, Wolf Track, and also on Woodpecker, the road that leads out to the Spur Road.  An amazing piece of equipment called an Alaskan Rock Crusher, scrapes up the road, chews up the gravel and then spits it back out.  A grader levels it, followed by a machine called Super Pac that rolls and tamps.  This tamping machine sends out vibrations that radiate through the soil and feel like earth tremors.  We have gone from an overgrown gravel back road to an wide open smooth gravel road.  We are somewhat suspicious that the upgrades are being made to accommodate the Princess buses, now traveling down Woodpecker to access the railroad.  These buses travel in groups and resemble a giant caterpillar as they slowly crawl to the tracks.  At the end of this month, there will no longer be buses or train loads of tourists visiting Talkeetna.
read 41 degrees prompting Bucky to say the dreaded words,"I think it might have frosted last night".  This turned out to be untrue, but it was enough for me to pull the covers up tighter around my chin and avoid getting up until I heard the sound of the heater kick on.  The slow pace of the sun reaching its height makes the morning disappear.  Eating a late morning breakfast means lunch is bypassed.  Today the sun is warm 

                                                         Our corner, Woodpecker and Wolf Track
Yesterday, Carlisle and I stood talking in the yard.  Suddenly, Fisher began to bark at the end of her cable.  Barking for Fisher is highly unusual and almost certainly indicates an animal nearby.  Carlisle quickly scanned the brush near the out house and said, "moose".  I grabbed the camera and we walked behind the cabin to get a closer look.  Then, we saw a second moose, a small bull accompanying the cow that Carlisle had first seen.  My instinct, upon seeing the bull, was to retreat as it definitely had the appearance of a love connection.  Perhaps I have heard too many stories of Alaskan moose charging!  Carlisle's instinct was to see more clearly if it was legal!  Neither animal seemed bothered by our presence or that of Fisher and Lady.  We concluded that the bull was not legal and this was later confirmed by the Super Pac driver when he paraded across Woodpecker in front of him.  We saw both moose again later in the day. The bull never let the cow get far from his sight.  We were not the only ones checking the size of the bull's antlers as our neighbor soon called wondering how we were scoring the antlers.  Evidently, both moose were standing on his newly seeded lawn, ruining it with their cloven hooves.  Surely, all lawn damage would be forgotten if 600 pounds of meat could be harvested in the front yard!  Alaskan hunting regulations are complicated and strictly enforced so knowing what is a legal bull is very important.

                                                                      the lover

                                                                    the one he desires

Viewing wildlife close at hand makes Alaska a special place.  According to Carlisle, during the past winter, moose bedded in the trees next to the cabin and she was able to watch them daily from the cabin window.  Currently, many Alaskans are busy hunting or planning their moose hunts while others are thinking about mushing not moosing!

I was lucky enough to join our friend Anja on a training run of her Alaskan huskies.  Anja is a dedicated musher who provides her dogs with the best of care and love.  It's a treat to visit her dog yard and interact with her sled dogs, but also to view the level of attention these dogs are given. Anja and her husband, Pete, are exemplary mushers and a model for others who might be interested in living this life style.  It is a commitment that shouldn't be made lightly.  Anja is happy that cool weather has returned so she can begin getting her dogs in shape for the upcoming racing season.  It's too hard on the dogs to train during the heat of summer and this has been a particularly hot Alaskan summer.  A four wheeler is used for training.  The wheeler is in neutral for most of the run, but Anja assists the dogs when needed.  The dogs bark with enthusiasm when Anja enters the dog yard.  Hooking up the team is a chaotic event with the dogs howling and yipping with excitement.  Anja keeps a log of her training sessions indicating which dogs have been used and where they were positioned.  She told me that eventually, as the dogs become used to the training, it is much easier to get them hooked up.  Today, Anja needs to lead each dog from its house to the line.  I am glad that I'm assigned 35 pound Mama to lead over as she is about all I can handle!  Small but mighty is an apt description for this dynamo.  Anja says that eventually the dogs will walk on their own to the line.  Each dog has a harness appropriate for its size.  These harnesses are neatly hung and organized.  I'm asked to watch Eggs, a fine new dog with great bloodlines, but one who likes to chew his harness.  When Anja catches him in the act and reprimands him, he looks sorrowful, but soon wraps himself around Anja's leg grinning his characteristic smile.

side note.....

Wow! we just had an earthquake, here at the library.  Shelves shook, but no books down!  I always forget, that we are within the Ring of Fire.

                                                                               Iggy

                                                                      Steller

                          Anja with harnesses.  Note the xtra tuff boots, Alaskan footwear!

Waiting to leave

Steller and Micky waited patiently while the remaining dogs were hitched.  They continually turned their heads watching to see what was going on and waiting for Anja to release them.  Beautiful Stellar, seen here on the right, is a veteran and a valuable dog in lead.  He knows the routine and will help Anja's newer dogs figure things out.

                                                           I'm looking at you....

                                                               You're looking at me......

                                           

                                                         traveling at about 11 mph

Heading for home

Arti is the newest of Anja's dogs.  He was the only puppy in his litter which means he gets lots of attention.  It's hard to resist his adorable antics and his cuddly puppy body!



Mushers such as Anja keep the history of Alaska alive and make it accessible to those of us who desire to know.  Her commitment to her animals and enthusiasm for racing her dogs is amazing to witness.  Days of training in rain and mud, hundreds of pounds of dog food to haul, vet expenses, mountains of mushing gear and countless other financial and emotional commitments, rewarded by the pure joy of riding the runners pulled by your 4 legged family at -20F on a clear winter day.