Long time readers of these pages are aware of my fascination with the Iditarod and my insistence on dedicating a column to it each year. This year’s running finished last week, and I am in my annual slough of despond and withdrawal, realizing I must wait eleven months for next year’s race.
After several years of warmer temperatures and a disappointing snow pack, Mother Nature provided us with old-fashioned conditions this year. The temperature seldom got much above zero during the day and several times was as cold as minus fifty in the mornings. Last year’s race had a makeshift route to avoid long stretches of trail with inadequate snow cover; this year they were able to follow the normal “Northern” route, and even “the Burn”, a barren stretch west of the Alaska Range, had the best trail conditions in years.
Last year’s winner, Jessie Holmes, met the time-honored criterion for “True Champion” by repeating, but not without competition. By the time the mushers reached Skwentna, Mile Post 83, Jessie had forged to the front. He never really relinquished that lead although there were numerous times other racers were sharing rest stops with him or even were farther along the trail while he rested. He led the way up the “Giant Steps” in the Alaska Range to Rainy Pass, then down Dalzell Gorge and through “the Burn” and into Rohn (MP 188). Trail conditions were fine, but all the teams were hindered by a fifty-mph head wind, an unusual occurrence in that area.
Encounters with wildlife are common in this race. Two years ago Dallas Seavey was attacked by a moose that he had to kill. This year there were several sightings of bison, at a distance; then, it was rookie Jody Potts-Joseph’s turn. Jody is a member of an indigenous tribe. Somewhere in the Burn, she came around a corner and encountered a bison in the middle of the trail. She stopped immediately and, in response, the bison began pawing the ground, then charged up to the front of her team. Her dogs went ballistic. She tried to go ballistic, but it was so cold that her pistol failed to fire. She then remembered a story about her grandmother protecting her children from a grizzly bear by speaking to it in indigenous language and reminding it that “we are all brothers”, at which point it left. As a last resort, Joy shouted out the same words verbatim, in her native tongue. Sure enough, the bison nodded its head, turned around and trotted off. Jody seemed embarrassed telling the story, which made it seem credible to me.
From Rohn to Nikolai (MP 263) Holmes, Paige Drobny, Ryan Redington, and Michelle Phillips took turns “leapfrogging” each other. Holmes was first into Nikolai where he surprised everyone by announcing his intention of taking his mandatory twenty-four hours rest stop there. Most years experienced mushers elect to rest farther down the trail, at Ophir (MP 352) or Cripple (MP 425). Jessie reported that he felt the effect of the wind had taken its toll on his team. He was soon joined by the gang chasing him.
Beyond Nikolai the Iditarod trail is in the sparsely populated back-country where most of the villages that boomed during the Gold Rush are now “ghost towns”. Holmes rested at the Cripple checkpoint; Paige Drobny went straight through and camped between there and Ruby (MP 495). The seventy miles from Cripple to Ruby were handled much differently by different mushers. Jesse Holmes chose to make it without a rest stop; it took his team nine hours and six minutes, an unusually long run.
Ruby is on the Yukon River; from there the trail follows the frozen Yukon 134 miles to Kaltag (MP 629) before heading west 85 miles through the hills to Unalakleet (MP 714) on the Bering Sea coast. From there it is 40 across the peninsula to Shaktoolik, and 50 on the Bering Sea ice to Koyuk. The final 174 miles into Nome is either a cake walk or a horror show; it just depends upon the weather. Despite serious challenges by Travis Beals (second place) and Jeff Deeter (third), Jessie Holmes “cake-walked” into Nome nine days, seven and a half hours after leaving Willow. Paige Droby took fourth place; Wade Marrs, fifth.
Weather conditions frequently have a major impact on the race, especially along the Bering Sea Coast. This year, just as the leaders were arriving in Nome, a severe windstorm arrived in the White Mountain area. As each of the teams pulled into the checkpoint the magnitude of their horror stories increased. Adam Lindemuth, “Tail-end Charley” at the time, eventually gave up, five miles short of White Mountain, and had to be brought in by a rescue team. The storm finally abated two days later, and the nine remaining teams scurried into Nome. This is the fourth time in the last dozen years that weather has scrambled the finish of the race. Is there another sporting event where Mother Nature is such a major factor?
An interesting feature in this year’s race was the addition of the “Expedition” class. Norwegian billionaire Kjell Rokke donated several hundred thousand dollars to the Iditarod in return for permission to travel the route with the competing mushers, but without the requirement of being self-sufficient. He recruited 2020 Iditarod champion Thomas Waerner to travel along with him, accompanied by a large team of dog handlers, a fleet of snow machines, and two large fully equipped tents. Not being encumbered by mandatory rest stops, they arrived in Nome a day and a half ahead of Holmes, thrilled by the experience.
Once again, I thoroughly enjoyed following this year’s Iditarod closely. The $80,000 Jessie Holmes received for winning would be pocket change for a champion in any of the major sports, but the awe of participating experienced by all the mushers involved makes it all priceless.