I have just finished the two weeks of the year that the sports fan in me enjoy the most – the running of the Iditarod. When my friends ask me why I am addicted to this event and not the World Series, the Super Bowl, and the NCAA basketball tournament, my reply is “Why isn’t everyone?” Indeed, the Iditarod has many unique characteristics. Anyone who loves dogs must be interested in seeing how these magnificent canine athletes perform in sub-zero weather over a week and a half in a race one thousand miles long. Anyone interested in the outdoors must be interested in the beauty of Alaska — the mountains of the Alaska range, the Arctic tundra, the Bering Sea coast, the Northern Lights, etc. Where else does wildlife affect the outcome of a sporting event? Last year the ultimate winner saw his team attacked by a moose that he had to kill with a handgun! Where else do men and women compete on equal footing? Where else can you find a 77 year-old competing against an 18 year-old? Where else do both strategy and tactics play such an important role?
This year’s race was unique in many aspects. Two weeks before its start date a decision was made to change the route dramatically because of lack of snow in a long stretch west of the Alaska Range. The start was moved north from Anchorage to Fairbanks, adding an additional 128 miles to its nominal length of 1,000 miles, making it the longest Iditarod in history. This route had by far the longest stretch on the Yukon River, a stretch that turned out to be surprisingly difficult. By circumventing the Alaska Range, this year’s route also turned out to be the flattest ever. It also contained the most “long” runs ever – a long run being defined by a distance between checkpoints being more than fifty miles, thus requiring the musher and team to camp out at least once for its four-hour rest.
From Fairbanks the route followed the Tanana River west 202 miles to its confluence with the Yukon, then went down the river 254 miles to checkpoint Kaltag. It then continued 147 miles farther downriver to checkpoint Anvik before making a loop to the east, then returning to the Yukon and retracing its path upstream and back to Kaltag. At this point the mushers took the 81 miles long “Portage” to Unalakleet and the Bering Sea coast. From there it was a short run to Shaktoolik, followed by 50 miles across Norton Sound on sea ice to Koyuk. Another 170 miles along the seacoast the trail ended under the Burled Arch in Nome.
Thirty-three teams left Fairbanks with a staggered (two minutes apart) start; Jason Mackey took advantage of his position to be the first team into Nenana (Milepost 52). By Manley Hot Springs (MP 137) Ryan Redington, the 2023 Iditarod champion, had taken the lead, only to relinquish it to Michelle Phillips at Tanana (MP 202). At around MP 175 many of the teams encountered severe winds which blew away all the trail markers, picked up a sandbar, and produced a fierce sandstorm. In addition to disorienting the mushers, it produced very difficult footing for the dogs. Eventual champion Jessie Holmes limped into Tanana where he determined that his ace lead dog, Polar, was nursing a bruised paw. Jessie decided to not drop Polar and have him flown back to Anchorage. Instead, he put him into the sled and proceeded to let him rest all the way to Kaltag. By then Polar was recovered and comfortably led the team the rest of the way to Nome.
By Ruby (MP 319) Paige Drobny had taken the lead, with Matt Hall and Holmes closely behind. They played leap-frog all the way to Kaltag (MP 456) with each consecutive leader being passed when he/she stopped for a four hour rest; Paige was first into Kaltag. This continued down the river to Anvik and back up to Kaltag. This time Matt Hall was the first to arrive, desperately in need of a rest. Jessie blew through the checkpoint, camped out for his rest a third of the way to Unalakleet. The lead he established here survived all the way to Nome, though Matt made a serious effort to catch him, ending up arriving three hours behind Jessie, with Paige pulling in two and a half hours later. A three-hour difference in a 250 hour race is impressive.
Jessie Holmes’ success in winning his first Iditarod is attributed to a number of factors. He and Paige are neighbors, with kennels about halfway up the Denali from Anchorage to Fairbanks; Matt’s kennel is northeast of Fairbanks. Consequently, their teams are accustomed to a wide variety of trail conditions and easily adapted to the bad trail on the Yukon. Jessie stressed discipline and sticking to the strict run/rest schedule for which his team had been trained. As the race continued, he did extend the four-hour rest stop to five hours, based on his observation of the condition of the dogs. He also delayed his mandatory eight hour and twenty-four-hour rest stops later than any of his competitors, insuring that his team would be well rested for the last half of the race.
Jessie Holmes is a popular champion – the same could have been said about any of his top competitors. There are no “bad guys” in dog sled racing; these mushers are a remarkable contrast to the greedy, arrogant young people in our popular professional sports. I hope this isn’t the last “Last Great Race in the World”. This year had its smallest number of entries and, consequently, the fewest mushers to finish. I wish it were more popular and able to provide a better financial incentive. Participating in the Iditarod is an expensive venture, with very little reward except the satisfaction of accomplishment.