A riddle: What has 32 eyes, 64 feet, lots of fur and loves snow?
If you said the Abominable Snowman's mutant Uncle Reginald, you're wrong. And weird. The actual answer is one of the 16-dog teams racing across Alaska in this year's Iditarod sled dog race.
Often called the "Last Great Race on Earth," the Iditarod is an epic 1,150-mile marathon trek across some of the most extreme terrain in the world. The trail winds up and down rugged mountain passes, across frozen rivers, through dense forests and along the windy Alaskan coast, the most harrowing tundra outside of Lambeau Field.
The subzero temperatures of the Alaskan winter could give a snowman frostbite, and gusty winds whipping across the tundra are strong enough to blow the fur off your favorite trusty sled dog. With these extreme conditions, it's a wonder how - and why - approximately 70 mushers (the men and women who drive the sleds) and their dogs turn up each year to compete in an event named for the churning icy waters of Alaska's Iditarod River.
For a little bit of insight into the Iditarod mentality, I turned to my housemate, Anchorage native and resident Alaskan expert, Lionel. An excerpt from the conversation:
Me: "What possesses people to do this race? Don't they get cold?"
Lionel: "It's just an Alaskan tradition. Some of the people are probably crazy. I wouldn't do it."
Thanks, Lionel.
Since my attempt to gain inside perspective proved essentially fruitless, I naturally turned to the one source of information guaranteed to provide the most obscure answers to the most obscure questions: Google. A few findings:
Though it has become engrained in Alaskan tradition, the Iditarod is a relatively new creation. Joe Redington established the race in 1973 to commemorate the old mail and supply route upon which sled dogs delivered goods from the coasts to internal mining camps in the 19th century. As the principle path across the Alaskan wilderness, the Iditarod Trail also served as a lifeline to diphtheria-ridden Nome in 1925 when sled dogs helped deliver medicine to the town's isolated citizens.
For today's version of the race, teams are given a mandatory supply list. Staples such as dog and musher food, an arctic parka and a subzero sleeping bag are among the must-haves for any entrant. Teams are also required to carry snowshoes in case of emergency and enough dog booties to protect each and every paw on the trail. An ax is mandatory in case the musher has to a) cut firewood, or b) fight off hungry grizzly bears dying for a tender sled dog after a long winter of hibernation.
Mushers prepare for the race in a variety of ways. Many have full time jobs working as fishermen, miners, doctors, lawyers and artists and schedule training around their professional lives, while others actually train full-time. They come from both the United States and abroad with frequent entrants from Canada, Switzerland and France.
As in any sport, the Iditarod has its legendary stars. The Lance Armstrong of the race, five-time winner Rick Swenson, participated in 20 races and never finished out of the top 10. Four-time victor Susan Butcher pulled a three-peat by winning consecutive races between 1986-88, and then solidified her legacy by coming back to win again in 1990.
The 2006 race began on Mar. 3 in Anchorage. The mushers are currently traveling along the northern branch of the trail after last year's race followed the southern route. Teams will ultimately race through 26 checkpoints before crossing the finish line in Nome sometime this week, 10-17 days after their departures from Anchorage. This year's winner will receive $69,000 in cash and a new Dodge pick-up truck worth $49,000. The last team to complete the race will be presented with the traditional red lantern.
After initially researching the Iditarod, I decided it would be fun to follow the race myself. Unfortunately, tracking each of the 70 teams' progress on an 8x10 foot map of Alaska in my room began to take its toll on my social life. As a result, I reluctantly decided to cut back and follow just one team via the internet. My knowledge of individual mushers proved sub-par so I arbitrarily decided to follow the youngest female participant. Turns out I made a good choice.
Twenty-year-old Rachael Scdoris - along with Duchess, Angel, Bernard, Cletus, Jovi, Hank, Zack, Seth, King, Lazer, Tiny, Eddie, Lisa, Dugan, Ned and Otter - has little chance of following in either Swenson or Butcher's footsteps.
The Oregon native, however, is probably the most inspirational participant in this year's race.
Scdoris, who works as a sled dog tour operator and has been mushing since the age of three, is legally blind. She was born with Congenital Achromatopsia, a condition that renders its victims colorblind, without depth perception and only able to see at the 20/200 level. Though she is highly sensitive to light and can detect motion, Scdoris barely makes out vague shapes and can't see past her lead dog in a race. She relies on a partner, veteran musher Paul Ellering, to drive a sled ahead of her team and communicate trail conditions to her via radio. Even with this assistance, Scdoris encounters obstacles other mushers could easily avoid.
"I had a nice little encounter with a tree," Scdoris told ABC News after it named her Person of the Week on Mar. 11. "The tree won."
Scdoris knows her chances of winning the race are next to nothing. But she is determined to finish this year's Iditarod after withdrawing from her rookie attempt last year because of dog illness. Currently in 58th place, Scdoris is well on her way to realizing her goal and showing that to compete in the Iditarod, you don't have to be clinically insane, just incredibly
determined.
