Wednesday, 10:00 p.m.
It was just twilight and the temperature was steadily dropping in the negative numbers. The first three finishers were in Nome and their teams were nestled in their straw beds in the dog lot. I was wearing four layers on my legs, five on top, three pairs of socks under my “serious” boots and gloves under mittens. All of it truly outdoor gear, and none of it adequate by the time 2:00 a.m. rolled around!
This was our shift in the Dog Lot. With just a few dropped dogs to watch (who were fine and sound asleep), and the three finished dog teams sleeping-off the 1,049 mile run they just accomplished, we were essentially babysitting…overnight, outside, next to the frozen ocean. Had the lot been busier with dogs there would have been more to do to keep us in motion and warmer…but our quiet shift was more like security guard patrol. Every once in a while a gust would blow and a blanket would need to be re-adjusted on a dog - or at least I wanted to think that to have a reason to mobilize my limbs. In fact, most of the times I “tucked-in” a dog with straw and blanket...the dog would undo my work. These huskies are fully capable of bedding-down to insulate themselves – and partial to feeling the cold air. And 20 degrees below zero is comfortable for them…20 degrees colder than that is still fine, especially when they are running. (Sidebar: these working northern breed dogs NEED it cold – the unfortunate hyperthermia situations involved are related to getting snowed-in on a once-cleared trail that mother nature erased and not being able to move…even more dangerous to the human musher!)
Sebastian Schnuelle’s team was in the lot that night – they finished in second place – and so Sebastian’s sled was there too. He keeps a thermometer mounted on the outside of his sled bag, and when I saw him the next day I thanked him for that because, as I told him, “I could see exactly how cold I was!” It was in fact twenty below BEFORE wind chill while we were on duty. However, I don’t think “dog lot at night” is the most uncomfortable of the many volunteer jobs.
While we monitored the dogs in the cold night…the “pee team” had to come in and collect samples from them! It is Iditarod policy that the first 20 dog teams to finish the race are drug tested, so when a finished team is parked in the lot and the vet check has been completed, regardless of time of day, the squad arrives. Now that’s the dirty work as far as I’m concerned…and watching that process made me feel that I had absolutely nothing to complain about!
The last 15 minutes of that shift felt like a lifetime, and being tired didn’t help. I was thinking about the mushers out on the trail and people that have physically unpleasant jobs and duties all the time…especially the military. I again realized I had nothing to complain about…and an end was in sight for me.
The highlight of the night – and the thing that would make me sign-up for it all over again – was the most beautiful serenade I ever heard. One of three-peat winner Lance Mackey’s dogs got up, followed by another and they had a dog discussion (we thought perhaps a lover’s quarrel). One of them let out a howl and then another one did, then another and another…so on and so on. Picture about twenty huskies, snouts to the night sky, howling in unison. From around the lot, dogs from other teams joined-in. Some were standing, some woke-up just long enough to poke a head out, contribute, and go back to their curled-up burrow. It was absolutely magical – they were embracing their inner wolf and I felt privileged to see, hear and feel it. There was also one from John Baker’s team (third placers) who joined-in late and started just as the others were finishing…now there’s a dog I can relate to!!
Sunday, March 22, 2009
WHEN IN NOME
We spent Monday and Tuesday getting the lay of the land, covering details for Kim (still presuming she would finish) and seeing what the days brought. Most activity centered around Iditarod HQ in Nome, a temporary set-up in a small community center where anyone from famous mushers to local natives are apt to be hanging out drinking coffee, buying merchandise, following the race on-line and staying warm.
Jean hadn't been to Nome before either, but she already knew many of the faces and players associated with the Iditarod due to her previous attendance at their teachers’ conferences as well as past volunteerism, so I was in good company. Before I knew it I found myself: at a birthday party; at the shortest St. Patrick’s Day Parade I ever saw; being interviewed by a school in Nebraska in a video conference and having a visit with family in NJ via the Nome webcam!
Eventually we got the word on Kim’s scratch and above all else we were glad to know she was safe. We were also sad that what she worked so hard to accomplish just wasn’t meant to be at this time. Overall, the harsh realities of the unusually harsh weather complicating the race for veteran and rookie teams alike made for a bittersweet night.
Jean hadn't been to Nome before either, but she already knew many of the faces and players associated with the Iditarod due to her previous attendance at their teachers’ conferences as well as past volunteerism, so I was in good company. Before I knew it I found myself: at a birthday party; at the shortest St. Patrick’s Day Parade I ever saw; being interviewed by a school in Nebraska in a video conference and having a visit with family in NJ via the Nome webcam!
Eventually we got the word on Kim’s scratch and above all else we were glad to know she was safe. We were also sad that what she worked so hard to accomplish just wasn’t meant to be at this time. Overall, the harsh realities of the unusually harsh weather complicating the race for veteran and rookie teams alike made for a bittersweet night.
IT REALLY IS PRACTICALLY IN RUSSIA
It was early Monday and Kim was still on the trail when Jean and I departed for Nome, intending to see finishers arrive at the famed “Burled Arch” and to volunteer in the dog lot while scoping out logistics on that end of the race for Kim.
En route, we first landed in the village of Kotzebue and I was officially 33 miles above the Arctic Circle, making John very jealous that I got there first! As we proceeded to Nome, flying above the Seward Peninsula as the sun rose, I was awestruck at the absolutely white and seemingly barren landscape. It is the antithesis of flying over NJ… all of it pure and glistening, none of it man-made.
It was quite cold when we arrived at daybreak - and windy. I was too taken by the isolation, beauty and tiny airport to notice just how cold and windy it was. That became apparent as we stood outside deliberating if we should take a cab or seek-out Iditarod Volunteer transportation. The fleet of waiting cabs (both of them) quickly filled and disappeared, no Iditarod people seemed to be around, and suddenly we were very aware of our numb extremities and dumb planning.
Wondering if perhaps cabs only show-up a few times a day when flights are known to be arriving…we thought maybe we missed our window of opportunity. This would need to be discussed INSIDE, so Jean proceeded to move our luggage. With one step she promptly slipped on ice and fell backwards and my big suitcase landed flat on top of her! I noticed it – and I cared despite my laughter - but at the exact same moment I also noticed a cab out in the road. My city girl instincts kicked-in and I blew past her like she wasn’t even there, pinned under my pullman, no less, and I flagged that cab down like it was rush hour on 6th Avenue!
I was told before we left Anchorage that, “Nome is a different animal” and I would agree. Things are simpler and more intimate. I gage that this is true for both daily life as well as the Iditarod-related events. Nome is more village than city. It has two real hotels, some surprisingly modern and yummy places to eat, several bars (it is a gold rush town, afterall), and the best coffee bar, in my opinion, can be found in the back of a gift shop! There is a museum, a National Park Office for the Bering Land Bridge and a movie theater adjacent to the Subway sandwich shop.
Nome is beautiful and the sunsets are breathtaking - and I can only comment on the winterscape. I hear summer is just as gorgeous. Of course, what I am calling “winter” may be a relative term. As I was entering the historical Old St. Joe’s Church to scope-out a local craft fair, I held the door for two natives who emerged saying, “Oh my, Spring has sprung!” OK – yes, it was sunny, but I was wearing so many layers of snow clothes I couldn’t fit through the aisles…this is spring?!
En route, we first landed in the village of Kotzebue and I was officially 33 miles above the Arctic Circle, making John very jealous that I got there first! As we proceeded to Nome, flying above the Seward Peninsula as the sun rose, I was awestruck at the absolutely white and seemingly barren landscape. It is the antithesis of flying over NJ… all of it pure and glistening, none of it man-made.
It was quite cold when we arrived at daybreak - and windy. I was too taken by the isolation, beauty and tiny airport to notice just how cold and windy it was. That became apparent as we stood outside deliberating if we should take a cab or seek-out Iditarod Volunteer transportation. The fleet of waiting cabs (both of them) quickly filled and disappeared, no Iditarod people seemed to be around, and suddenly we were very aware of our numb extremities and dumb planning.
Wondering if perhaps cabs only show-up a few times a day when flights are known to be arriving…we thought maybe we missed our window of opportunity. This would need to be discussed INSIDE, so Jean proceeded to move our luggage. With one step she promptly slipped on ice and fell backwards and my big suitcase landed flat on top of her! I noticed it – and I cared despite my laughter - but at the exact same moment I also noticed a cab out in the road. My city girl instincts kicked-in and I blew past her like she wasn’t even there, pinned under my pullman, no less, and I flagged that cab down like it was rush hour on 6th Avenue!
I was told before we left Anchorage that, “Nome is a different animal” and I would agree. Things are simpler and more intimate. I gage that this is true for both daily life as well as the Iditarod-related events. Nome is more village than city. It has two real hotels, some surprisingly modern and yummy places to eat, several bars (it is a gold rush town, afterall), and the best coffee bar, in my opinion, can be found in the back of a gift shop! There is a museum, a National Park Office for the Bering Land Bridge and a movie theater adjacent to the Subway sandwich shop.
Nome is beautiful and the sunsets are breathtaking - and I can only comment on the winterscape. I hear summer is just as gorgeous. Of course, what I am calling “winter” may be a relative term. As I was entering the historical Old St. Joe’s Church to scope-out a local craft fair, I held the door for two natives who emerged saying, “Oh my, Spring has sprung!” OK – yes, it was sunny, but I was wearing so many layers of snow clothes I couldn’t fit through the aisles…this is spring?!
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Happy Tails
A quick note to clarify that Cotton, Kim's lead dog who had hypothermia, is fine.
She joined her team yesterday on a flight back to Anchorage and was going to have the VIP suite...a crate in the hotel room...with Kim's mom last night.
All of Kim's dogs are together and it's business as usual 'round the dog truck. Kim returns to Anchorage today.
She joined her team yesterday on a flight back to Anchorage and was going to have the VIP suite...a crate in the hotel room...with Kim's mom last night.
All of Kim's dogs are together and it's business as usual 'round the dog truck. Kim returns to Anchorage today.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
WOMAN'S BEST FRIEND
My posts to date have been light-hearted…but today all joking is aside.
I’m sure it is apparent by now how truly enthusiastic I am about dog sledding, the Iditarod and my opportunity to work closely with Kim Darst - as her supporter, cheerleader and dog handler. I’ve already expressed my appreciation for Kim’s generosity in letting me be among her handlers – and then extending the opportunity to include my husband and daughter in her race preparations as well.
But now as I write, I do so while holding Kim in even greater esteem. Kim was officially scratched from the race last night. This news came after a day of confusion on our end as to why the GPS tracking indicated that she was stopped for an abnormally long time on the trail between check-points. She was with two other teams who were not moving either, and our best guess was that either weather was causing them to wait, or a situation occurred with a team that moved the others to stay and assist.
In the evening a press release was issued saying that the air corps was deployed to check on the three teams at the back, and one of the teams travelling near Kim signaled distress and was removed from the trail by plane. That left us speculating that Kim was OK but had chosen not to abandon the situation. Later, we were advised that Kim was scratched, that there was concern for one of her dogs who was also airlifted to the checkpoint for examination, and that Kim and the remainder of her team were well and would camp on the trail overnight and move on in the morning.
What we know now is that the portion of the trail where they were stopped was actually closed-in by very deep snow (some high-wind storms have been wreaking havoc) and they were basically stranded. Kim’s lead dog, Cotton, was succumbing to hypothermia. Sending out a signal for help could save the dog…so signal she did. This also decided Kim’s fate as a racer - she would not be able to continue on towards Nome.
I am truly honored to be learning from such an ethical musher, and I have been shown by both Kim and Cotton what the word “teammate” really means.
I’m sure it is apparent by now how truly enthusiastic I am about dog sledding, the Iditarod and my opportunity to work closely with Kim Darst - as her supporter, cheerleader and dog handler. I’ve already expressed my appreciation for Kim’s generosity in letting me be among her handlers – and then extending the opportunity to include my husband and daughter in her race preparations as well.
But now as I write, I do so while holding Kim in even greater esteem. Kim was officially scratched from the race last night. This news came after a day of confusion on our end as to why the GPS tracking indicated that she was stopped for an abnormally long time on the trail between check-points. She was with two other teams who were not moving either, and our best guess was that either weather was causing them to wait, or a situation occurred with a team that moved the others to stay and assist.
In the evening a press release was issued saying that the air corps was deployed to check on the three teams at the back, and one of the teams travelling near Kim signaled distress and was removed from the trail by plane. That left us speculating that Kim was OK but had chosen not to abandon the situation. Later, we were advised that Kim was scratched, that there was concern for one of her dogs who was also airlifted to the checkpoint for examination, and that Kim and the remainder of her team were well and would camp on the trail overnight and move on in the morning.
What we know now is that the portion of the trail where they were stopped was actually closed-in by very deep snow (some high-wind storms have been wreaking havoc) and they were basically stranded. Kim’s lead dog, Cotton, was succumbing to hypothermia. Sending out a signal for help could save the dog…so signal she did. This also decided Kim’s fate as a racer - she would not be able to continue on towards Nome.
I am truly honored to be learning from such an ethical musher, and I have been shown by both Kim and Cotton what the word “teammate” really means.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
AND THE MAID NEVER EVEN BATTED AN EYE!
Kim’s in the Iditarod check-point as I write…almost halfway to Nome!
She is among a few rookies who are running at the “back of the pack", but moving along steadily. At this point she has dropped two of her dogs (Denver and Avalanche) from the team. They are fine and back with us in Anchorage, asleep in their familiar dog truck. How I wish they could talk! I have so many questions about what they saw and did out there.
I thought Trumpet and Durango would be happy to see their kennel mates return, but I’m not convinced that they are. The dogs who stayed were naturally getting extra TLC, and perhaps not so eager to share again so soon! The fact that three males are in the mix with one female also adds to the tension, I think. Meanwhile, Trumpet and Durango have their own tale to tell.
On what I thought would be a quiet day, I went to check-out some local museums with Diane (another of Kim’s handlers) and all the action happened while we were out. We returned to the news that Kim dropped the first dog whose identity was still unknown at that point. Also, it was discovered that the brakes on her dog truck were not working and it would have to be towed somewhere for service. Fortunately Kim’s mother, “Mom Darst”, is the epitome of grace under pressure. She had it all under control in her no nonsense, no fuss way. But the truck is the kennel and so the question was obvious, “What about the two dogs we have here?”
As luck would have it, there were two dog crates on hand in this pet-friendly hotel that we could borrow…so Trumpet and Durango moved in. It’s worth mentioning here that the room was already full of people and beds and supplies and luggage. I offered to take a dog into my room, to which Mom Darst said, “Oh, you have a roommate.” I opened my door and there it was, parked right down the length of two beds… Kim’s second dog sled - the one she used as her tag sled in the ceremonial start!
She is among a few rookies who are running at the “back of the pack", but moving along steadily. At this point she has dropped two of her dogs (Denver and Avalanche) from the team. They are fine and back with us in Anchorage, asleep in their familiar dog truck. How I wish they could talk! I have so many questions about what they saw and did out there.
I thought Trumpet and Durango would be happy to see their kennel mates return, but I’m not convinced that they are. The dogs who stayed were naturally getting extra TLC, and perhaps not so eager to share again so soon! The fact that three males are in the mix with one female also adds to the tension, I think. Meanwhile, Trumpet and Durango have their own tale to tell.
On what I thought would be a quiet day, I went to check-out some local museums with Diane (another of Kim’s handlers) and all the action happened while we were out. We returned to the news that Kim dropped the first dog whose identity was still unknown at that point. Also, it was discovered that the brakes on her dog truck were not working and it would have to be towed somewhere for service. Fortunately Kim’s mother, “Mom Darst”, is the epitome of grace under pressure. She had it all under control in her no nonsense, no fuss way. But the truck is the kennel and so the question was obvious, “What about the two dogs we have here?”
As luck would have it, there were two dog crates on hand in this pet-friendly hotel that we could borrow…so Trumpet and Durango moved in. It’s worth mentioning here that the room was already full of people and beds and supplies and luggage. I offered to take a dog into my room, to which Mom Darst said, “Oh, you have a roommate.” I opened my door and there it was, parked right down the length of two beds… Kim’s second dog sled - the one she used as her tag sled in the ceremonial start!
A QUIZ
ISSUE:
“They might need someone who is willing to sell raffle tickets in the bar at night in Nome…oh, and it might be on St. Patrick’s Day when you’d need to dress-up in green and everything…and the winner is expected to arrive that night during the party that will already be going on…it’s normally pretty wild…this year it will be REALLY wild. I don’t know if you’d be interested…”
SANDY’S RESPONSE:
A: No way, I could never do something like that!…and what would my husband think??
B: Oh…I’ll think about it, but I don’t really get into St. Patrick’s Day
C: Where can I find a green gold rush saloon girl costume on short notice? Preferably with the garter…
“They might need someone who is willing to sell raffle tickets in the bar at night in Nome…oh, and it might be on St. Patrick’s Day when you’d need to dress-up in green and everything…and the winner is expected to arrive that night during the party that will already be going on…it’s normally pretty wild…this year it will be REALLY wild. I don’t know if you’d be interested…”
SANDY’S RESPONSE:
A: No way, I could never do something like that!…and what would my husband think??
B: Oh…I’ll think about it, but I don’t really get into St. Patrick’s Day
C: Where can I find a green gold rush saloon girl costume on short notice? Preferably with the garter…
DO NOT PASS GO...
All the good stuff here seems to happen late-night. I finally had my chance to work in the Anchorage Dog Lot when word came in one night that 19 dropped dogs were about to arrive at once and more hands were needed on deck.
These dogs are flown-in from the trail by a volunteer air corps, and as soon as they land and are trucked to the lot, vets check them thoroughly. Yes, they are examined at the checkpoint where the drop happens, and then again upon arrival to the Dog Lot, and pertinent information travels with them. Most dogs get the green light to be fed, watered and bedded down until a musher’s handler claims them. They are constantly watched, including monitoring of their eating and defecating, and vets are notified of anything seemingly abnormal. But they do not stay in the Dog Lot overnight. If a handler can not make a pick-up in short order, the dog is re-located to another venue…a local women’s correctional facility!
It is a brilliant concept, actually. The prison has rehabilitative programs for inmates, several involving canines. Caring for the Iditarod dogs is a privilege and responsibility for them, and the area where the dogs are kept is perfectly suitable – complete with some serious fencing to ensure no lost athletes!
Meanwhile, my joke the whole time my husband was here with me was that I was going to somehow land myself in that jail so I could tend to the dogs. Well, I’ve had the best of both worlds…I got to tend to the dogs in the Dog Lot, AND I went to the jail. Delivering the dogs and handing them off to the inmates inside the prison yard will probably remain one of the more memorable moments of this adventure. It was a really profound experience and I feel honored to have participated in this very behind-the-scenes (yet so instrumental) facet of the Iditarod experience. It was also quite sobering.
These dogs are flown-in from the trail by a volunteer air corps, and as soon as they land and are trucked to the lot, vets check them thoroughly. Yes, they are examined at the checkpoint where the drop happens, and then again upon arrival to the Dog Lot, and pertinent information travels with them. Most dogs get the green light to be fed, watered and bedded down until a musher’s handler claims them. They are constantly watched, including monitoring of their eating and defecating, and vets are notified of anything seemingly abnormal. But they do not stay in the Dog Lot overnight. If a handler can not make a pick-up in short order, the dog is re-located to another venue…a local women’s correctional facility!
It is a brilliant concept, actually. The prison has rehabilitative programs for inmates, several involving canines. Caring for the Iditarod dogs is a privilege and responsibility for them, and the area where the dogs are kept is perfectly suitable – complete with some serious fencing to ensure no lost athletes!
Meanwhile, my joke the whole time my husband was here with me was that I was going to somehow land myself in that jail so I could tend to the dogs. Well, I’ve had the best of both worlds…I got to tend to the dogs in the Dog Lot, AND I went to the jail. Delivering the dogs and handing them off to the inmates inside the prison yard will probably remain one of the more memorable moments of this adventure. It was a really profound experience and I feel honored to have participated in this very behind-the-scenes (yet so instrumental) facet of the Iditarod experience. It was also quite sobering.
IT'S ALL FALLING INTO PLACE
With a little networking help from Kim’s handler, Jean - the only one of our crew who has been to the Iditarod before to work as a volunteer - I was soon able to secure a hotel room in Nome and line-up my volunteer job to work there in the “Dog Lot” (where some dropped dogs are held and where the finished teams are parked). DROPPED DOGS in this case refers to those that mushers drop from the team while out on the trail, for any number of reasons.
As Kim’s dog handler, I did not need to be registered with the Iditarod Trail Committee, but in order to help in any other capacity, it is required. There is a highly-organized coordination effort and training is provided. Some volunteers have years of experience, others are just learning, but everyone seems informed and competent and enthusiasm for the race is the common-denominator. So with Kim on the trail and my family settled back at home, I wasted no time getting my credentials to start signing-up for volunteer openings both in Anchorage and in Nome.
Surprisingly, my overnight shift to work with Jean in the “Computer Room” was actually quite fun. From 2:00 a.m. until 6:00 a.m. one morning we were getting email reports from six checkpoints on the trail and updating the “Current Standings” section of the Iditarod website with the info. It was non-stop action and we got very excited when we took the report that Kim was out of McGrath...so excited that our neighbor from the room next door came over to make sure we were OK. Oops…I think we got politely shushed…which naturally led into a slap-happy 3:00 a.m. giggle fit reminiscent of childhood slumber parties. “Must be the NJ people”…
As Kim’s dog handler, I did not need to be registered with the Iditarod Trail Committee, but in order to help in any other capacity, it is required. There is a highly-organized coordination effort and training is provided. Some volunteers have years of experience, others are just learning, but everyone seems informed and competent and enthusiasm for the race is the common-denominator. So with Kim on the trail and my family settled back at home, I wasted no time getting my credentials to start signing-up for volunteer openings both in Anchorage and in Nome.
Surprisingly, my overnight shift to work with Jean in the “Computer Room” was actually quite fun. From 2:00 a.m. until 6:00 a.m. one morning we were getting email reports from six checkpoints on the trail and updating the “Current Standings” section of the Iditarod website with the info. It was non-stop action and we got very excited when we took the report that Kim was out of McGrath...so excited that our neighbor from the room next door came over to make sure we were OK. Oops…I think we got politely shushed…which naturally led into a slap-happy 3:00 a.m. giggle fit reminiscent of childhood slumber parties. “Must be the NJ people”…
NEXT SHOW 2:00 P.M.
Kim’s dogs run a lot. At home in the spring and summer they run free in their play yard for exercise. During the racing season they run as teams pulling a sled or an ATV for training.
But here in Anchorage, the two dogs that did not make the final cut to run the Iditarod with Kim get to run along the lake right behind the hotel instead. They are not running loose and they are not running with a sled…they are running on leashes desperately clung to by me and another of Kim’s helpers…and the only visual I can convey in writing is the one that accompanies “Jaaane! Stop this crazy thiiing!”
At least I have a co-star in this daily sideshow that plays just beyond the hotel dining room windows, where our fellow guests get complimentary entertainment watching us try to keep-up and stay up while these powerhouse dogs have a field day.
Sled dogs are hardwired to run and to pull. It is simply in their DNA just like massive paws and coats suited to cold weather. Some traits that they need to be considered good working dogs can be taught to them - like directional commands - but other things just occur. Crouching and using leverage to do a high speed sort of crawl in ice and snow is one of these things…worrying about whether or not the human attached to them can fly is not.
But here in Anchorage, the two dogs that did not make the final cut to run the Iditarod with Kim get to run along the lake right behind the hotel instead. They are not running loose and they are not running with a sled…they are running on leashes desperately clung to by me and another of Kim’s helpers…and the only visual I can convey in writing is the one that accompanies “Jaaane! Stop this crazy thiiing!”
At least I have a co-star in this daily sideshow that plays just beyond the hotel dining room windows, where our fellow guests get complimentary entertainment watching us try to keep-up and stay up while these powerhouse dogs have a field day.
Sled dogs are hardwired to run and to pull. It is simply in their DNA just like massive paws and coats suited to cold weather. Some traits that they need to be considered good working dogs can be taught to them - like directional commands - but other things just occur. Crouching and using leverage to do a high speed sort of crawl in ice and snow is one of these things…worrying about whether or not the human attached to them can fly is not.
SUCH SWEET SORROW
John and Rhiannon are back in NJ , Kim and her team are out on the trail, and I am anything but alone at Iditarod race HQ, where I am staying with Kim’s mom and two of her other handlers, getting my hand and head into every facet of this “Last Great Race” that I possibly can.
My sadness over seeing my husband and daughter off at the airport did not stand much of a chance. Not because out of sight would be out of mind…but because after 15 minutes of waving good-bye from a distance, I realized they were not successfully getting passed the security check.
Sad became concerned as an agent came out to get me and a million thoughts ran through my mind. The thing that I did not expect was the message she was delivering, “He said to take this and have a good time with it.” A shiny metal object came at me, and when it came into focus through remnants of my tears all I could do was laugh. “Tell him I certainly will” I said, as I took possession of the fully accessorized corkscrew John was packing in his carry-on!
Quintessential John...and a great parting note.
My sadness over seeing my husband and daughter off at the airport did not stand much of a chance. Not because out of sight would be out of mind…but because after 15 minutes of waving good-bye from a distance, I realized they were not successfully getting passed the security check.
Sad became concerned as an agent came out to get me and a million thoughts ran through my mind. The thing that I did not expect was the message she was delivering, “He said to take this and have a good time with it.” A shiny metal object came at me, and when it came into focus through remnants of my tears all I could do was laugh. “Tell him I certainly will” I said, as I took possession of the fully accessorized corkscrew John was packing in his carry-on!
Quintessential John...and a great parting note.
Friday, March 13, 2009
HOME vs. NOME
It was dusk when we arrived to our cabin in Trapper Creek, and the resident moose was part of the welcoming committee as we headed down the road to the Northland Inn. When I opened my car door to go in search of the innkeeper, a dog’s head lunged into the car from out of nowhere…it was like being in a Disney movie…I thought it was going to talk, or maybe even sing!
This was the perfectly peaceful place to spend our last evening in Alaska, especially after the whirlwind our trip had been. After settling in, we re-packed our bags for airline travel, sorted our souvenirs and recapped our recent fun memories. We prepared an enormous box to be shipped home and we had a “family meeting”...the kind we have when something out of the ordinary is going to happen...about my big decision.
For the entirety of the trip the standing question to me from all sources was, “So are you going to Nome?” I would hem and haw at the prospect of staying behind in Alaska and seeing the Iditarod finish, and John (who has a great respect for unique opportunities and a great respect for my individuality) would interject, “Yes, she is – she just hasn’t told me yet.”
Even with the encouragement of John and Rhiannon, and lots of arm-twisting from the company we were keeping, it was not an easy decision to make. I do have responsibilities, starting with being an “at HOME” mom. And Nome isn’t exactly a metropolis…getting there and finding a safe place to stay could be impossible. It is far out on a peninsula in the frozen Bering Sea and the only way in/out during the winter is by plane or Iditarod Trail! What’s a girl to do?? No-brainer…I cancelled my flight to NJ.
Early the next morning our last hoorah was a 20 mile snow machine ride on trails carved into deep snow that weaved through evergreen & birch forests and over frozen lakes and bogs. Beautiful, fun, peaceful…all of the above and then some!
Later as reality hit and we were straggling and loading our baggage, we had the cabin door propped open. The dog appeared again…it walked right into our room promptly at 11:15 and we are all pretty sure that we heard it say, “This is your friendly reminder that check-out time is 11:00 a.m.”
This was the perfectly peaceful place to spend our last evening in Alaska, especially after the whirlwind our trip had been. After settling in, we re-packed our bags for airline travel, sorted our souvenirs and recapped our recent fun memories. We prepared an enormous box to be shipped home and we had a “family meeting”...the kind we have when something out of the ordinary is going to happen...about my big decision.
For the entirety of the trip the standing question to me from all sources was, “So are you going to Nome?” I would hem and haw at the prospect of staying behind in Alaska and seeing the Iditarod finish, and John (who has a great respect for unique opportunities and a great respect for my individuality) would interject, “Yes, she is – she just hasn’t told me yet.”
Even with the encouragement of John and Rhiannon, and lots of arm-twisting from the company we were keeping, it was not an easy decision to make. I do have responsibilities, starting with being an “at HOME” mom. And Nome isn’t exactly a metropolis…getting there and finding a safe place to stay could be impossible. It is far out on a peninsula in the frozen Bering Sea and the only way in/out during the winter is by plane or Iditarod Trail! What’s a girl to do?? No-brainer…I cancelled my flight to NJ.
Early the next morning our last hoorah was a 20 mile snow machine ride on trails carved into deep snow that weaved through evergreen & birch forests and over frozen lakes and bogs. Beautiful, fun, peaceful…all of the above and then some!
Later as reality hit and we were straggling and loading our baggage, we had the cabin door propped open. The dog appeared again…it walked right into our room promptly at 11:15 and we are all pretty sure that we heard it say, “This is your friendly reminder that check-out time is 11:00 a.m.”
NORTHERN EXPOSURE
If you read Rhiannon’s first blog post, you might recall that she outted my snobby opinion of west coast attempts at decent pizza. The joke’s on me.
For our last night in Alaska, we had arranged to switch gears from Iditarod mode and hit the road heading north in hopes of seeing Denali (aka Mt. McKinley), Talkeetna, and Trapper Creek, where we’d spend the last night of our family vacation re-grouping in a cabin. It was snowing as we drove and the cloud cover usurped the amazing view of the mountain that was so close, yet totally out of sight. Still, it was a beautiful drive amid the snow-covered evergreens and curious ravens (the contrast of solid black ravens in the pure white snow is one of my favorite visuals on this trip!).
We arrived to Talkeetna and it seemed like a snowed-in ghost town. I never saw snow piled so high in front of buildings. There were some signs of life though, and in fact several businesses were open, but it was difficult to even distinguish a window from a doorway because only the tops were visible! Naturally, it was Rhiannon who spotted a purple sign reading “Mountain High Pizza Pie”…and I said, “No” before she even asked the question. But we soon realized that our options were limited and our tummies were empty, so I begrudgingly went along with the pit-stop plan.
Things were looking up immediately! The place was surprisingly active, I could spread out with my lap-top and get WiFi, my favorite west coast beer was on tap, Little Feat was playing in the background and for the first time on my trip I saw vegetarian options on a menu!! I finally found the crunchy side of Alaska!!
Two hours later I was still at Mountain High Pizza Pie and feeling like one of the regulars. After enjoying a delicious pizza with all (and only) appropriate topping options, I continued to catch-up on writing while John had in-depth conversations with several locals, including a Denali National Park Ranger who was just off-duty. Meanwhile, Rhiannon was very happy to meet a family with some children and a dog outside, and I think she had two ice cream cones for herself while I was pre-occupied. I still can not get confirmation on this, and since John is covering for her, he must have had at least two also. Fact: Alaskans eat more ice cream in the winter than in the summer. Apparently you CAN sell ice to the Eskimos!
For our last night in Alaska, we had arranged to switch gears from Iditarod mode and hit the road heading north in hopes of seeing Denali (aka Mt. McKinley), Talkeetna, and Trapper Creek, where we’d spend the last night of our family vacation re-grouping in a cabin. It was snowing as we drove and the cloud cover usurped the amazing view of the mountain that was so close, yet totally out of sight. Still, it was a beautiful drive amid the snow-covered evergreens and curious ravens (the contrast of solid black ravens in the pure white snow is one of my favorite visuals on this trip!).
We arrived to Talkeetna and it seemed like a snowed-in ghost town. I never saw snow piled so high in front of buildings. There were some signs of life though, and in fact several businesses were open, but it was difficult to even distinguish a window from a doorway because only the tops were visible! Naturally, it was Rhiannon who spotted a purple sign reading “Mountain High Pizza Pie”…and I said, “No” before she even asked the question. But we soon realized that our options were limited and our tummies were empty, so I begrudgingly went along with the pit-stop plan.
Things were looking up immediately! The place was surprisingly active, I could spread out with my lap-top and get WiFi, my favorite west coast beer was on tap, Little Feat was playing in the background and for the first time on my trip I saw vegetarian options on a menu!! I finally found the crunchy side of Alaska!!
Two hours later I was still at Mountain High Pizza Pie and feeling like one of the regulars. After enjoying a delicious pizza with all (and only) appropriate topping options, I continued to catch-up on writing while John had in-depth conversations with several locals, including a Denali National Park Ranger who was just off-duty. Meanwhile, Rhiannon was very happy to meet a family with some children and a dog outside, and I think she had two ice cream cones for herself while I was pre-occupied. I still can not get confirmation on this, and since John is covering for her, he must have had at least two also. Fact: Alaskans eat more ice cream in the winter than in the summer. Apparently you CAN sell ice to the Eskimos!
DOES THIS MEAN WE HAVE “ADMINISTRATIVE EXPERIENCE”?
After the Iditarod re-start we explored nearby - and now somewhat famous - Wasilla, Alaska. We spent our night there in a hotel overlooking the beautifully frozen Lake Lucille. As we searched for a place to have dinner, let's just say we got the lay of that land very quickly.
The highlight for me was visiting The Iditarod Headquarters which also serves as a museum to the race and the history behind the race (the 1925 serum run to Nome via a dogsled relay to thwart a diphtheria epidemic).
If you’ve ever seen, sat or played on the statue of the dog in Central Park…here’s the connection: That is a statue of Balto who was the lead sled dog when the serum arrived safely to Nome against all odds. He was hailed as a hero everywhere. The unsung hero was Togo who did most of the work on the last leg of that relay, but went missing and was thought to be dead. Balto took his place in the lead position on the sled for its critical arrival to Nome, and thus got all the glory.
NYC has the Balto statue…but Wasilla has Togo. That’s right…Togo eventually showed-up in Nome surprising everyone, and now he is stuffed, posed in a glass box, and gazing towards Russia in perpetuity.
The highlight for me was visiting The Iditarod Headquarters which also serves as a museum to the race and the history behind the race (the 1925 serum run to Nome via a dogsled relay to thwart a diphtheria epidemic).
If you’ve ever seen, sat or played on the statue of the dog in Central Park…here’s the connection: That is a statue of Balto who was the lead sled dog when the serum arrived safely to Nome against all odds. He was hailed as a hero everywhere. The unsung hero was Togo who did most of the work on the last leg of that relay, but went missing and was thought to be dead. Balto took his place in the lead position on the sled for its critical arrival to Nome, and thus got all the glory.
NYC has the Balto statue…but Wasilla has Togo. That’s right…Togo eventually showed-up in Nome surprising everyone, and now he is stuffed, posed in a glass box, and gazing towards Russia in perpetuity.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
RACE EVENTS & START RECAPS - Rhiannon
Today I'm leaving Alaska, but I feel as I'm loosing a home. This is the farthest I've traveled and I was here for over a week so I feel slightly strange.
Let me start off from the beginning of the Iditarod race.
Ceremonial Start:
The maximum amout of dogs Kim could bring was 12/16 of her dogs. I didn't have a badge but I was carrying something when I got caught, and the official said, "She doesn't have a badge but she's carrying something so she looks official." My job after that was to make sure there was no fighting or other things the dogs shouldn't be doing, and that all the dogs were calm so I gave them some pep-talk. Kim's Iditarider's name was Charolette. Dogs were everywhere so sometimes I wish I took Astro.
Restart:
I had the same jobs I had at the ceremonial start. Durango and Trumpet couldn't go because Kim thought they weren't as fit as they should be to race. My mom helped move the dogs to the starting line and she was dragged by them! The race was very exiting!
Banquet:
TONS OF AUTOGRAPHS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have at least 24 signatures on my coat!
This is my last blog and I can answer any of your questions when I get back tomorrow.
Let me start off from the beginning of the Iditarod race.
Ceremonial Start:
The maximum amout of dogs Kim could bring was 12/16 of her dogs. I didn't have a badge but I was carrying something when I got caught, and the official said, "She doesn't have a badge but she's carrying something so she looks official." My job after that was to make sure there was no fighting or other things the dogs shouldn't be doing, and that all the dogs were calm so I gave them some pep-talk. Kim's Iditarider's name was Charolette. Dogs were everywhere so sometimes I wish I took Astro.
Restart:
I had the same jobs I had at the ceremonial start. Durango and Trumpet couldn't go because Kim thought they weren't as fit as they should be to race. My mom helped move the dogs to the starting line and she was dragged by them! The race was very exiting!
Banquet:
TONS OF AUTOGRAPHS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have at least 24 signatures on my coat!
This is my last blog and I can answer any of your questions when I get back tomorrow.
AND THEY'RE OFF! - Sandy
One by one the mushers proceeded to the starting line – departing for Nome at two-minute intervals according to bib number. If you are wondering, there is a system for compensating time during the race since it is a staggered start. Actually, there seems to be an efficient system for everything…it is a highly organized operation.
When it was finally the time for “#52 Kim Darst” to proceed towards the start line, all of her dogs were in place barking and jumping and howling and absolutely frantic with the desire to fall in line and run. Kim had her 10 handlers, myself included, plus 5 additional handlers supplied by the Iditarod committee holding the gang line. And with all of that man-power, plus the resistance of a loaded sled and Kim riding the brake, those dogs brought US to that starting line!
I thought I understood how strong sled dogs could be, but the collective force of Kim’s team was outright mind-blowing! Just a short time earlier I was lifting and petting and putting booties on her calm well-mannered dogs – some of them fairly small. Now, as I was pulling the line with all my might (while running on ice no less), I suddenly found myself alongside primal dogs as they morphed into pack mentality - growing stronger with every step knowing that the freedom of a trail was ahead. All I could do was pray that I didn’t fall! It was the biggest, best rush I’ve ever had! The only thing better or more fun that I’ve experienced wa s being ON a dog sled…
When it was finally the time for “#52 Kim Darst” to proceed towards the start line, all of her dogs were in place barking and jumping and howling and absolutely frantic with the desire to fall in line and run. Kim had her 10 handlers, myself included, plus 5 additional handlers supplied by the Iditarod committee holding the gang line. And with all of that man-power, plus the resistance of a loaded sled and Kim riding the brake, those dogs brought US to that starting line!
I thought I understood how strong sled dogs could be, but the collective force of Kim’s team was outright mind-blowing! Just a short time earlier I was lifting and petting and putting booties on her calm well-mannered dogs – some of them fairly small. Now, as I was pulling the line with all my might (while running on ice no less), I suddenly found myself alongside primal dogs as they morphed into pack mentality - growing stronger with every step knowing that the freedom of a trail was ahead. All I could do was pray that I didn’t fall! It was the biggest, best rush I’ve ever had! The only thing better or more fun that I’ve experienced wa s being ON a dog sled…
“HEY, WHAT EXIT?” - Sandy
It’s true, people from NJ really do ask this question of other people from NJ when they meet in faraway places. The irony is that these same people are never happy to meet each other sitting in the bumper-to-bumper traffic that so often defines those Parkway & Turnpike exits back in Jersey!
Still, at both the ceremonial start of the Iditarod in downtown Anchorage on Saturday, and the race re-start (where mushers and their packed sleds truly hit the trail in Willow, Alaska) on Sunday – many fellow New Jerseyans paid their respects and well-wishes to Kim and her team. Some already knew that a Jersey girl was entered in the race and sought her out, others noticed “The Garden State” license plates on her dog truck, and perhaps others noticed the giant NJ state flag that John made sure was proudly flying from a pole he affixed to the top of Kim’s truck. But as Kim and her crew of helpers and handlers cared for the dogs and prepared the sled, all brands of encouragement from the sidelines – especially those with references from “back east” - were much appreciated and added tremendously to the overall enthusiasm that surrounded these events.
Meanwhile, to the surprise of those who do not know him well, John not only did a wonderful job of capturing photo and video opportunities from our behind-the-scenes vantage points at both starts…but in Anchorage he managed to recreate nothing short of a Meadowlands parking lot tailgate where no other cars were even allowed to be parked! No one, including John, is exactly sure how this happened...but in the area that is strictly limited to the mushers’ dog trucks, John parked our “Handler’s Vehicle” right behind Kim’s dogs and proceeded to supply coffee & tea service, donuts, and hand & foot warmers from the open hatchback. Naturally, John enjoyed every minute of inadvertently pulling- it-off, and in keeping with every NJ stereotype he could muster, his standard answer to being asked, “How did you get to park here?” was a Tony Soprano style, “Who wansta know?”
The energy and excitement at each start was tremendous! Although, the drill for the mushers was different and so was the overall tone. For the dog handlers it was the usual dog drop duties (yes, including dooties), plus harnessing, putting booties on all paws, and getting dogs on the line (their harnesses clipped to tug lines attached to the gang line, which is attached the sled ). However, for the musher the two days are very different experiences.
The ceremonial start is more of a staged event. The sled is empty, except for an Idiarider who (by way of auction) gets to sit in the sled for the first 10 miles. A tag sled with another musher is tied to the main sled for added resistance, there are fewer dogs on the line and it is not competitive. At the end of a fairly easy trail run, teams arrive to an airstrip where trucks and handlers await their arrival, and where warm food & refreshments are served in a giant tent that reminded me of “M.A.S.H”.
At the re-start the next day, teams traveled north to Willow, where the actual competition began on a frozen lake. The mushers embarked on a trail that ends 1,049 miles away, in Nome. For this restart the musher must: pack the sled and have the contents checked by an official (there are required items as well as optional gear, food, equipment, etc.); triple-check the readiness of the 16 dogs chosen for the team; don hardcore snow gear; say good-bye to all the help and loved ones who will no longer be available to assist; and basically not think too much and not look back.
Still, at both the ceremonial start of the Iditarod in downtown Anchorage on Saturday, and the race re-start (where mushers and their packed sleds truly hit the trail in Willow, Alaska) on Sunday – many fellow New Jerseyans paid their respects and well-wishes to Kim and her team. Some already knew that a Jersey girl was entered in the race and sought her out, others noticed “The Garden State” license plates on her dog truck, and perhaps others noticed the giant NJ state flag that John made sure was proudly flying from a pole he affixed to the top of Kim’s truck. But as Kim and her crew of helpers and handlers cared for the dogs and prepared the sled, all brands of encouragement from the sidelines – especially those with references from “back east” - were much appreciated and added tremendously to the overall enthusiasm that surrounded these events.
Meanwhile, to the surprise of those who do not know him well, John not only did a wonderful job of capturing photo and video opportunities from our behind-the-scenes vantage points at both starts…but in Anchorage he managed to recreate nothing short of a Meadowlands parking lot tailgate where no other cars were even allowed to be parked! No one, including John, is exactly sure how this happened...but in the area that is strictly limited to the mushers’ dog trucks, John parked our “Handler’s Vehicle” right behind Kim’s dogs and proceeded to supply coffee & tea service, donuts, and hand & foot warmers from the open hatchback. Naturally, John enjoyed every minute of inadvertently pulling- it-off, and in keeping with every NJ stereotype he could muster, his standard answer to being asked, “How did you get to park here?” was a Tony Soprano style, “Who wansta know?”
The energy and excitement at each start was tremendous! Although, the drill for the mushers was different and so was the overall tone. For the dog handlers it was the usual dog drop duties (yes, including dooties), plus harnessing, putting booties on all paws, and getting dogs on the line (their harnesses clipped to tug lines attached to the gang line, which is attached the sled ). However, for the musher the two days are very different experiences.
The ceremonial start is more of a staged event. The sled is empty, except for an Idiarider who (by way of auction) gets to sit in the sled for the first 10 miles. A tag sled with another musher is tied to the main sled for added resistance, there are fewer dogs on the line and it is not competitive. At the end of a fairly easy trail run, teams arrive to an airstrip where trucks and handlers await their arrival, and where warm food & refreshments are served in a giant tent that reminded me of “M.A.S.H”.
At the re-start the next day, teams traveled north to Willow, where the actual competition began on a frozen lake. The mushers embarked on a trail that ends 1,049 miles away, in Nome. For this restart the musher must: pack the sled and have the contents checked by an official (there are required items as well as optional gear, food, equipment, etc.); triple-check the readiness of the 16 dogs chosen for the team; don hardcore snow gear; say good-bye to all the help and loved ones who will no longer be available to assist; and basically not think too much and not look back.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
AFTER WE DROP THE DOGS - Sandy
“After we drop the dogs…”
I think every sentence I’ve heard Kim utter this week starts with this phrase. Our collective schedule is now entirely driven by dog drops. They happen every four hours starting before 7:00 a.m., and twice a day it includes a meal. Otherwise, it’s all about dog potty breaks, watering, stretching, petting, hugging and observation. Kim is a watchful dog mom and can hone-in immediately when the slightest thing is off with one of her dogs. Fortunately, nothing is going on with any of her athletes (or handlers!) that a little ointment and massage can’t quickly fix.
After we dropped the dogs on Thursday evening, we all headed to one of the most festive events surrounding the race - the traditional Musher’s Banquet. This is a dinner during which each Iditarod musher draws a number from a mukluk to determine the order at the race start. Following protocol, Kim drew her number, stepped up to the microphone, and announced to the room that she would be bib #52. She then took her place at the autograph table along with other Iditarod rookies and veterans alike, and proceeded to meet, greet and sign autographs for the rest of the night!
After we dropped the dogs on Friday morning, we prepared to leave the hotel parking lot where we’ve been stationed and headed for a beautiful dog sledding trail north of Anchorage. Kim wanted to stage a dry run so all of us would know what we need to do as a team of handlers when we’re in the chute for the race start. It was also Kim’s chance to have a dress rehearsal for running with a tag sled. It is required that all mushers start the race from Anchorage with another sled and musher tied behind the main one. This is for safety, because the streets are so crowded and the dogs are so pent-up and ready to go the distance that more weight and braking power is a safety measure for everyone involved.
Our practice yesterday went very well and now it’s GO TIME…after we drop the dogs right now, we’re headed to the starting chute! Tune in to your TV’s…this is the day that gets press coverage…look for #52 and cheer for the rookie from Jersey!!!
I think every sentence I’ve heard Kim utter this week starts with this phrase. Our collective schedule is now entirely driven by dog drops. They happen every four hours starting before 7:00 a.m., and twice a day it includes a meal. Otherwise, it’s all about dog potty breaks, watering, stretching, petting, hugging and observation. Kim is a watchful dog mom and can hone-in immediately when the slightest thing is off with one of her dogs. Fortunately, nothing is going on with any of her athletes (or handlers!) that a little ointment and massage can’t quickly fix.
After we dropped the dogs on Thursday evening, we all headed to one of the most festive events surrounding the race - the traditional Musher’s Banquet. This is a dinner during which each Iditarod musher draws a number from a mukluk to determine the order at the race start. Following protocol, Kim drew her number, stepped up to the microphone, and announced to the room that she would be bib #52. She then took her place at the autograph table along with other Iditarod rookies and veterans alike, and proceeded to meet, greet and sign autographs for the rest of the night!
After we dropped the dogs on Friday morning, we prepared to leave the hotel parking lot where we’ve been stationed and headed for a beautiful dog sledding trail north of Anchorage. Kim wanted to stage a dry run so all of us would know what we need to do as a team of handlers when we’re in the chute for the race start. It was also Kim’s chance to have a dress rehearsal for running with a tag sled. It is required that all mushers start the race from Anchorage with another sled and musher tied behind the main one. This is for safety, because the streets are so crowded and the dogs are so pent-up and ready to go the distance that more weight and braking power is a safety measure for everyone involved.
Our practice yesterday went very well and now it’s GO TIME…after we drop the dogs right now, we’re headed to the starting chute! Tune in to your TV’s…this is the day that gets press coverage…look for #52 and cheer for the rookie from Jersey!!!
IT'S IDITAROD EVE & I SHOULD BE ASLEEP- Sandy
I bled twice today. The first time it took me awhile to notice, because my hands were numb. I spent a disproportionate amount of time out in the cold morning trying to pry open those annoying little rings that attach tags to dog collars…and I literally pried until my fingers bled (sorry, I’m a bit sleep deprived). Each Iditarod dog is identified with a microchip, and they also must wear numbered tags…this is very necessary considering that over a thousand dogs are entered in the race.
My second bloodletting was when an otherwise gentle dog I was lifting used my face for leverage as she launched herself back into her dog box to bed-down for the night. I’m pretty sure Durango appreciated the boost, and with a scratch running from my lip to my neck I declared myself an official dog handler. I’m thinking that if I wear some serious false eyelashes tomorrow, no one will notice it.
Ever since we returned to Anchorage on Wednesday evening, things have been in high gear here. The hotel where we are staying serves as race headquarters, and the quiet place we left on Monday is now a Grand Central Station of dog trucks, people decked in Iditarod merchandise, and volunteers wearing lanyards. The energy is amazing and it’s very exciting to be a part of it!
We have all been progressively busier helping Kim as the race start closes in…and even John & Rhiannon are totally “with the band” at this point. Rhiannon has helped with many random tasks, such as Velcro-ing wet dog booties together to make chains that can be hung over the shower rod to dry for re-use. John has become the official chauffer, shopper, and photographer for the NJ to NOME Committee…and as always, a great all-around “go to” guy. What a wonderful experience this is for us as a family; and a wonderful experience for us as individuals since we each find elements that fascinate and interest us. We are having an absolute blast!
My second bloodletting was when an otherwise gentle dog I was lifting used my face for leverage as she launched herself back into her dog box to bed-down for the night. I’m pretty sure Durango appreciated the boost, and with a scratch running from my lip to my neck I declared myself an official dog handler. I’m thinking that if I wear some serious false eyelashes tomorrow, no one will notice it.
Ever since we returned to Anchorage on Wednesday evening, things have been in high gear here. The hotel where we are staying serves as race headquarters, and the quiet place we left on Monday is now a Grand Central Station of dog trucks, people decked in Iditarod merchandise, and volunteers wearing lanyards. The energy is amazing and it’s very exciting to be a part of it!
We have all been progressively busier helping Kim as the race start closes in…and even John & Rhiannon are totally “with the band” at this point. Rhiannon has helped with many random tasks, such as Velcro-ing wet dog booties together to make chains that can be hung over the shower rod to dry for re-use. John has become the official chauffer, shopper, and photographer for the NJ to NOME Committee…and as always, a great all-around “go to” guy. What a wonderful experience this is for us as a family; and a wonderful experience for us as individuals since we each find elements that fascinate and interest us. We are having an absolute blast!
Friday, March 6, 2009
DON'T REDOUBT ME
Whew! We made it to the Kenai and back again with many beautiful views of Mt. Redoubt (the volcano that has been poised to erupt since a month before we arrived in Alaska) and no need to actually use our recommended “just in case” dust masks. At one point we were just 54 miles from it, and I’m amazed at how beautiful something so potentially treacherous can be.
Alaska’s geology is part of the Pacific “Ring of Fire” and earthquakes and volcanoes abound! And on that note – I have another new street sign for my not-in-NJ list: “Tsunami Evacuation Route”.
Our time on the Kenai was all-too-short, but still we saw so much! In the summer it is really bustling with tourism, cruises ships, etc. In many ways it reminded us of the Jersey Shore or the Hamptons when they are in “off season” mode...minus the sunrises and sunsets among glaciers in the backdrop, of course. Personally, I’m really glad that our introduction to the area was in its more organic and rugged time. It was great to see what goes on when catering to tourists isn’t particularly on the radar of the locals. We met some interesting people and had some great, informative conversations that just wouldn’t happen in the hoopla.
Homer, Alaska is very cool – in my view it’s the Woodstock, NY of the coastal northwest. Seward is spectacular, less artsy and more quaint, and adjacent to Fjords National Park…what else can you say?! Our pictures will hopefully tell the story.
Meanwhile back in Anchorage, Kim’s team had both of their vet checks (different examinations on two different days), and everybody got the green light to run the “Last Great Race”!
Alaska’s geology is part of the Pacific “Ring of Fire” and earthquakes and volcanoes abound! And on that note – I have another new street sign for my not-in-NJ list: “Tsunami Evacuation Route”.
Our time on the Kenai was all-too-short, but still we saw so much! In the summer it is really bustling with tourism, cruises ships, etc. In many ways it reminded us of the Jersey Shore or the Hamptons when they are in “off season” mode...minus the sunrises and sunsets among glaciers in the backdrop, of course. Personally, I’m really glad that our introduction to the area was in its more organic and rugged time. It was great to see what goes on when catering to tourists isn’t particularly on the radar of the locals. We met some interesting people and had some great, informative conversations that just wouldn’t happen in the hoopla.
Homer, Alaska is very cool – in my view it’s the Woodstock, NY of the coastal northwest. Seward is spectacular, less artsy and more quaint, and adjacent to Fjords National Park…what else can you say?! Our pictures will hopefully tell the story.
Meanwhile back in Anchorage, Kim’s team had both of their vet checks (different examinations on two different days), and everybody got the green light to run the “Last Great Race”!
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Back to Anchorage - Rhiannon
“Are we in Anchorage yet?” It’s a cloudy Thursday here back in Anchorage, Alyeska (that’s the native name for Alaska). I didn’t write yesterday because we arrived back in Anchorage around 6:30 p.m. last night after a busy day. We were late for breakfast, then we took a marine life tour. We saw Orcas, Humpbacks, and Sea Otters! When we arrived back in Anchorage, we ate dinner at the restaurant called the “The Fancy Moose.”
This morning, I helped take care of Kim’s dogs again. I just found a soft spot in a dog called Dakota. I have to say, Avalanche and Denali never hurt me when I played with them in NJ, but although Dakota hurt me the most because he plays rough, he has a play side and a lovey-dovey side too. He gave me 7 doggy hugs today!
I just finished breakfast and Kim is at a musher meeting. Just now I helped make bootie chains to dry them out. Some shout-outs to my class… I have some booties on my hands and maybe I can collect enough for everybody. But if I can’t it might be a random pick. And for the third grade, I can show you some autographs from the mushers.
This morning, I helped take care of Kim’s dogs again. I just found a soft spot in a dog called Dakota. I have to say, Avalanche and Denali never hurt me when I played with them in NJ, but although Dakota hurt me the most because he plays rough, he has a play side and a lovey-dovey side too. He gave me 7 doggy hugs today!
I just finished breakfast and Kim is at a musher meeting. Just now I helped make bootie chains to dry them out. Some shout-outs to my class… I have some booties on my hands and maybe I can collect enough for everybody. But if I can’t it might be a random pick. And for the third grade, I can show you some autographs from the mushers.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
THINGS WE DON'T SEE IN JERSEY (PT.1) - Sandy
REINDEER HOT DOGS FOR SALE
Anchorage is currently engrossed in an anual winter festival called the "Fur Rondy" (short for rendezvous) which commemorates Alaska's long-standing tradition in the mining & fur trades. Included in many unusual events are "running of the reindeer" (a pharse version of the bulls in Spain), a full-blown carnival with stands & rides in the snow, snowshoe softball, and a three-part dog sled race.
Between some of Kim's dog drops on Sunday we were able to see the last leg of that race start...it was exciting for all of us knowing that in one week we'd be the ones in the chute, none moreso than Kim who said it definately kicked-up her nerves a few notches!
On Monday while Kim & her more devoted handlers (I'm feeling guilty here) tended to practical needs like vet checks for all 18 dogs and cleaning out the dog boxes in the truck (incuding replenishing all the straw bedding) - I hit the road for the scenery of a lifetime!!
We drove south to the Kenai Peninsula - through mountains & glaciers - and the only thing more beautiful that I've ever seen in nature was my own newborn child. I was literally speechless and actually crying at the majesty of all the white that sourrounded us! This was no Pulaski Skyway (although that can bring tears to the eyes too).
Aside from a pit-stop at a great wildlife refuge, our "real' sightings so far include: 2 moose, 5 American bald eagles; many seals and otters; and gorgeous birds we can't identify.
Some Great (and serious) road signs we've heeded:
Moose Crossing
Give Moose a Brake
Avalanche Area - Do Not Stop
No Shooting - From Roadway
We are off to the other side of the Kenai today, staying in Seward...
Anchorage is currently engrossed in an anual winter festival called the "Fur Rondy" (short for rendezvous) which commemorates Alaska's long-standing tradition in the mining & fur trades. Included in many unusual events are "running of the reindeer" (a pharse version of the bulls in Spain), a full-blown carnival with stands & rides in the snow, snowshoe softball, and a three-part dog sled race.
Between some of Kim's dog drops on Sunday we were able to see the last leg of that race start...it was exciting for all of us knowing that in one week we'd be the ones in the chute, none moreso than Kim who said it definately kicked-up her nerves a few notches!
On Monday while Kim & her more devoted handlers (I'm feeling guilty here) tended to practical needs like vet checks for all 18 dogs and cleaning out the dog boxes in the truck (incuding replenishing all the straw bedding) - I hit the road for the scenery of a lifetime!!
We drove south to the Kenai Peninsula - through mountains & glaciers - and the only thing more beautiful that I've ever seen in nature was my own newborn child. I was literally speechless and actually crying at the majesty of all the white that sourrounded us! This was no Pulaski Skyway (although that can bring tears to the eyes too).
Aside from a pit-stop at a great wildlife refuge, our "real' sightings so far include: 2 moose, 5 American bald eagles; many seals and otters; and gorgeous birds we can't identify.
Some Great (and serious) road signs we've heeded:
Moose Crossing
Give Moose a Brake
Avalanche Area - Do Not Stop
No Shooting - From Roadway
We are off to the other side of the Kenai today, staying in Seward...
OFF TO SEE KENAI PENINSULA- Rhiannon
Yesterday, we left early in the morning, (well, not that early. It was only like, 10:30 am) to start a little road trip. The rest of Kim’s dog handlers stayed behind w/Kim ‘cause the dogs needed to have their check-ups for the Idiarod race.
Right now I’m writing from Homer, Alaska. We’re waiting for the sun to rise and then even later we’ll go to Seward, Alaska. We’ll return to Anchorage tomorrow for the race. We saw some planes on skis behind the Alaska Millennium Hotel at a greatly large lake. I just wanted to lay low if you know what I mean. Personally, I don’t like to go from one place to another a lot; No matter how phenomenal it might be! I like to settle down and relax.
Right now I’m writing from Homer, Alaska. We’re waiting for the sun to rise and then even later we’ll go to Seward, Alaska. We’ll return to Anchorage tomorrow for the race. We saw some planes on skis behind the Alaska Millennium Hotel at a greatly large lake. I just wanted to lay low if you know what I mean. Personally, I don’t like to go from one place to another a lot; No matter how phenomenal it might be! I like to settle down and relax.
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