“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.