The Real Start (Exciting and Boring and Terrifying, Oh My!)

The Re-start on Sunday at Willow Lake was almost surreal. I was fairly calm and relaxed, and needed to gainfully find a way to spend 5 ½ hours before I actually left the start line. Luckily, a whole series of minor events popped up to occupy my time. Friends kept offering food and drink, so I was able to nibble and snack my way to the race start. Several folks stopped by for pictures, interviews, etc., my Idita-rider and Ceremonial Start dog handlers, among them. The zipper and Velcro on the sled bag needed repair and Lori got those taken care of with a couple of hours to spare for packing. New race collars for the dogs, a few final pictures for the team photo frame, visiting with neighboring teams, entertaining Amy, Karen etc., final packing items, changing into trail clothes, bootie the dogs, ready, set, go!

On one hand, the actual start of Iditarod is just like any other sled dog race start. Teams leave the start at prescribed intervals. Lots of help to get the team to the line and hold the sled. Crowds lining the starting chute. Dogs getting all revved up. Did I forget anything major?

In other ways it is very different. Never before had I lined up 16 dogs in competition, never before had I had friends show up in such force just for me at a sled dog race, never before had I been in a race where I had to wait nearly 2 ½ hours after the start of the race before I started. It was nice all the hoopla was there to entertain my friends, and my world compressed just to the dogs, my sled, and myself. Everybody looking good? Where are my boots and snow suit? Did I remember enough hand warmers to get to Skwentna? Time to pee…no, not yet.

Once we left the starting line, my whole objective was to get the team under control and into a trot. Didn’t crash and burn on Willow Lake or on the road…whew! The team was going strong but not 100% all out -- glad we had a chance to do a few last minute runs toward the end of the week and take the edge off of them. The first team that passed me was Fabrizio’s, early on Vera Lake. Everything was familiar since we’d run these trails a million times, so the dogs did seem pretty settled down, as if we were going 20 miles not 1150.

Turned to head down the Corral Hill trail to get down onto the river, and my race was almost over when it had barely begun. A couple of other teams had passed me, there were lots of spectators on the trail sides, and ahead where the trail turned sharply and dropped onto the river, a ton of folks there to spot/help in case a team had problems. So above that, as we had just started down Corral Hill, I expected no trouble. Then I heard a snow machine heading up hill, toward us, as we headed toward a sharp left turn. The snow machiner burst from around the curve just as we reached it – he was going WAY too fast, and swerved violently to miss my leaders. He almost didn’t miss – swerved first right, then a hard left, then another hard right as the machine fishtailed out of control. The dogs jumped back and forth to avoid his machine…Tie and Coast in lead, and with Tie having been involved in the Klondike 300 snow machine accident, he knew what was happening and made sure to avoid the machine, and was barely able to do so. I didn’t see anything except that the guy had a red snow machine. He finally ended up on my left-hand side, I hollered at him to slow down and he rooster-tailed us as he sped by us up the hill. Everybody was OK…but what a jerk!

Down onto the river without further incident, and smooth sailing to Yentna. I wasn’t planning to stop – good thing, as I couldn’t…the dogs were going to have none of that! We signed through and on our way – no taste of spaghetti dinner for me! That’s OK – later on we passed some tailgaters handing out hot dogs shortly before Skwentna, and they were wonderful (as anything would be at that point, I was hungry!). On into Skwentna, and the dog chore routine began. The dogs really appreciated their snacks, straw and meal; I treated a couple of sore wrists, the team settled down to rest and I muddled my way up the hill to the roadhouse for some food and sleep.