PORTRAIT OF A MUSHER
by Nathaniel "Nate" Yaekel

On the first Saturday in March, anywhere from fifty to eighty mushers leave the starting gate on Fourth Avenue in Anchorage. Of these, at least half have no hope of winning or even finishing in the top 20. Their main goal is simply to complete the race. Crossing under the famous burled arch at the finish line in Nome with their dogs is more than victory enough.

Running the Iditarod is a grueling test of dogs and drivers that can last as long as three weeks and can involve head-on encounters with some of the most forbidden weather and terrain on earth. Nevertheless, any musher worth his (or her) salt wants to run the Iditarod someday, just as runners want to do the Boston Marathon, even if they have no chance of winning.

Because of its difficulty, the Iditarod authorities place strict qualifying restrictions on people who would take the long road to Nome. Of course, anyone who has previously finished the race is eligible to sign up. Rookies, however, must complete at least two Iditarod-approved races of their choice totaling 500 miles or more within the previous two years. (The term "rookie" can be misleading when speaking of the Iditarod: some rookies have finished or even won major races such as the Yukon Quest. Naturally, they have little difficulty qualifying for the Iditarod.)

Training for the race usually begins in July of the preceding year, when the dogs are hooked up to ATV's for short runs of three to five miles. These four-wheeler runs will lengthen to ten or fifteen miles by the time snow falls in mid-October. Once the sleds are hooked up (which pull much more easily than the ATV's), runs rapidly increase to thirty and forty miles. Some mushers will have their teams routinely making fifty-mile runs by Christmas.

The first "mid-distance" races (meaning anything between 200 and 500 miles in length) are in January. Most mushers will try to run their teams in at least a couple of these races for the good training. Some of the better drivers, of course, also have an eye toward the prize money in these early races. By the time the Iditarod rolls around in March, most teams will already have 1,000 to 1,500 miles or even more behind them. Since the training is usually done with smaller teams, the mushers themselves may have more than 2,500 miles on the runners.

Each Iditarod team is limited to 16 dogs (of which at least five must be on the gangline at the finish.) This constitutes an incredibly powerful pulling machine, fully capable of dragging a pickup truck with its brakes set on packed snow. Hooked up in pairs, a sixteen-dog team stretches more than 80 feet from the leader's nose to the musher on the back of the sled -- longer than a highway eighteen-wheeler.

The musher's only real control of this juggernaut is voice commands to the lead dogs (the sled has a brake, but it is sometimes not much more effective than dragging a foot in the snow). This cleverly takes advantage of the dogs' wolf heritage: a dog team is basically a pack, and a pack always follows the leader, who in turn follows the commands of the driver. Most mushers run a pair of leaders up front (one of which is usually primary), while a few run a solo leader. Iditarod mushers will include as many leaders as possible in their teams, rotating them to take advantage of each dog's particular strengths as the trail condition vary. Regardless of how many leaders are in the team, the "pack" will always follow the dog(s) in the actual lead position.

Lead dogs (like all good sled dogs, for that matter) are superbly well bred and trained and are considerably smarter than average. The best leaders are especially good at following commands under all conditions. The basic commands for the leaders are "gee" (turn right), "haw" (turn left), "on by" (pass or go straight) and "whoa." The usual command to start the team is "hike, okay or lets go." Only Hollywood believes that the drivers shout, "mush!" ("Mush" is from the French "marchon," which means to move.) The dogs just behind the lead dogs are called the swing dog. They are often leaders in their own right. Just in front of the sled are the wheel dogs. They are very important in helping to guide the sled through turns. Wheel dogs have as much responsibility as leaders in that they must keep the sled from hitting trees or boulders when making turns or just to bring the sled around without tipping it over. Wheel dogs are usually a little larger or more muscular than the other dogs on the team. The other dogs are team dogs, although most of them can handle swing of a wheel or even lead when needed.

By the way, there is no special breed of dog used on the Iditarod. Some mushers run specific AKC recognized breeds such as Malamutes and Siberians, but most sled dogs are called by the generic term "Alaska husky," which means any critter with four legs and a tail capable of pulling a sled.

Over the years, mushers have mixed all sorts of breeds in attempts to find the perfect sled dog. Some have been quite successful. Nowadays, when referring to sled dogs, most mushers don't talk about what breed they are, but from whose kennel and what lineage they descend, such as "That's a Buser dog," or "That one's from Diana Moroney's Ruby line." In short, the average Iditarod sled dog is a mutt--albeit a carefully bred and highly prized one.

Once underway, the team will run virtually on autopilot, usually choosing the correct trail. Indeed, the musher's job on long runs with good trails and fair weather often involves hours of merely monitoring the team's progress and making commands only when needed. There is usually plenty of time to enjoy the Scenery and appreciate the smooth workings of the finely tuned machine that is an Iditarod dog team.

The mechanics of a dog team are simple. The dogs are hooked up in pairs, on either side of a central gangline of heavy braided rope with a cable core. A stout tugline connects to the rear of each dog's harness to the gangline. Each dog also has a neckline hooked to its collar to keep it from straying too far away from the gangline; the neckline is made of thin rope and is designed to snap if the dog should get wrapped around a tree or other obstacle that might cause choking. Dogs also will usually wear booties of tough fabric to protect their feet on the often-rough trail. Sled dogs are never muzzled and are free to jump back and forth across the gangline as the sled cuts across sharp curves.

The sled weighs no more than thirty or forty pounds empty and can be built of traditional materials such as birch or ash, or of modern plastics and composites. The runners are built to accommodate special plastic bottoms that can be slipped off and quickly replaced when they wear out. The musher stands on the rear part of the runners, behind the basket (or body) of the sled. The rear part of the basket is the handlebar, which is the driver's only hold on the sled. Some mushers wrap a cord around their wrist in case they inadvertently depart the sled for some reason. (Losing a team is the ultimate sin for a musher--and additionally usually makes for a long, cold, embarrassing walk, not to mention the danger of being in the winter wilderness with no food or gear.)

In the sled bag, which is a sort of super backpack tied to the sled railings, is an assortment of items. Mandatory gear for the Iditarod and most other races is a bag that includes essential survival gear. It must contain snowshoes, an ax, an arctic sleeping bag, at least two pounds of food and two sets of booties for every dog, and an alcohol stove, with a four or five gallon pot that the musher will need for melting snow and making hot water for dog food.

Mushers will also include warm clothing items (temperatures can range from 40 above to 60 below), medicine and ointments for the dogs, food for themselves, spare lines and snaps, a small tool kit, and a sewing kit to repair harnesses. A Thermos of drinking water is critical. Dehydration is a major threat in the cold, dry climate. Most mushers will also include a camera and a Walkman with their favorite cassettes to help fight the interminable hours of boredom on the long, wide-open stretches of the trail.

Note: For February's Issue, we will visit the race behind the race.