The race begins
09/03/15 03:52
And here we have it, sports fans! As I write we are less then ten hours away from the start of the big race. And this year promises to be a race to remember.
But first a bit of history: Back in 1925, the most famous dog in the United States was Rin Tin Tin. Rin Tin Tin was rescued from a World War I battlefield by American Soldier Lee Duncan. After making the trip to the United States, Rin Tin Tin went to work in the silent film industry. He was an immediate box office success. Soon German Shepherd dogs were the most popular breed in the country and Warner Brothers studio was on its way to unprecedented success. In 1929, Rin Tin Tin received the most votes for the first Academy Award for Best Actor, but the Academy determined that a human should win.
Rin Tin Tin never had any serious challenger for his fame, but there was another hero dog that claimed the public attention. Alto, a jet black Siberian husky was the lead dog in the final leg of the 1925 serum run to Nome. This wasn’t movie material for many years, but a real-life drama. In the winter in those days, Nome was cut off from the rest of the world. After the ice made water transport impossible, the community was isolated until the ice broke up in the spring. In the middle of the winter the community’s only doctor noticed a pronounced increase in tonsillitis. But it was only the first sign of a more serious condition. A potentially deadly diphtheria epidemic was poised to spread through Nome’s young people. The only possibility of saving lives was to get serum. And the serum was in Seward, nearly a thousand miles away.
Several options for getting the serum to Nome were proposed, including flying it in with airplanes. The airplanes available were open cockpit. There was little chance that the pilot could survive the -50 temperatures. With limited daylight and no navigational aids, using airplanes seemed to be doomed to failure. In fact after the first batch was delivered, there was an attempt to deliver a second batch by air. The first attempt was scratched due to a radiator problem. The second attempt produced a frozen radiator. The third attempt left the plane grounded as well. But that is a different story.
The serum was delivered by an amazing relay of dog sled teams. 20 mushers and nearly 150 seed dogs covered 674 miles in five and a half days and the serum was delivered. Balto lead the last time on the final leg of the run.
The story is part of the lore of Alaska. In 1964, when Alaska was preparing to celebrate the centennial of its status as a US territory, (the centennial was in 1967), work was begun on preserving the Iditarod trail. The Centennial race covered only 56 miles between Knick and Big Lake in 1967. That course was repeated in 1969. The modern Iditarod race was first run in 1973. The full run to Nome was won by Dick Wilmarch, who took nearly 3 weeks to complete the run. The course of the run is a reconstruction of the freight route to Nome. Since 1973, the race has been run ever year and has experienced lots of ups and downs. After several years of following the northern route, a second, more southerly route was added and the race now typically alternates between the two routes.
2015 was supposed to be a year for the southern route. And the promise that the Iditarod would be run every year regardless of the weather will be kept as the start of the race is set for today.
But 40 degree (above zero) weather and constant rain in Anchorage means that the start of the race had to be moved to Fairbanks. It looks like the weather is more cooperative in the northern city. Four inches of new snowing and lows in the teens promise a good start for the run. On Saturday, crews trucked snow into downtown Anchorage for a kind of ceremonial start, but it was melting so fast that it was mostly just a slushy mess. As it is the Fairbanks race start had to be moved off of the Chena River because the ice has been determined to not be strong enough to support the race activities.
Back in the ’70’s no one could have imagined that the Iditarod might be forced to cancel due to warm weather. Say what you will about climate change and global warming, there’s something different about the race this year.
They aren’t ready to give up on dog mushing in Alaska any time soon, however. The 1,000 mile Yukon Quest International Dog Sled Race, is considered by most mushers to be even more grueling than the Iditarod. The race runs between Fairbanks and Whitehorse in the Yukon Territory and runs one direction on year and the other direction the next. And there are lots and lots of other shorter races in Alaska every year.
I won’t be racing this year. I don’t have any dogs. And back home in South Dakota we are expecting highs in the sixties and seventies all week long. It may be too warm for dog sledding, but there is hope of open water to paddle before too many more days pass. Chance of snow is predicted as 0% for the week as we begin the marathon of rummage sale week. Good weather promises to make it a bit easier for the crews doing all of the work and should bring out the customers as well. We won’t be averting any potential disasters or epidemics, but there will be a lot of work done in a very few days around here, all of it motivated by a spirit of community.
I’ll pay attention to the Iditarod via computer and dream of the adventures of the mushers and the dogs. And I’ll pay attention to the dedicated volunteers who will not make the newspaper with their efforts, but who will nonetheless be contributing to the vitality of our community. Like the sled dogs, it isn’t hard to get our volunteers going. It takes practice to get them to slow down and take a break.
Adventures won’t be limited to Alaska this week. We’ll have our share in South Dakota as well.
But first a bit of history: Back in 1925, the most famous dog in the United States was Rin Tin Tin. Rin Tin Tin was rescued from a World War I battlefield by American Soldier Lee Duncan. After making the trip to the United States, Rin Tin Tin went to work in the silent film industry. He was an immediate box office success. Soon German Shepherd dogs were the most popular breed in the country and Warner Brothers studio was on its way to unprecedented success. In 1929, Rin Tin Tin received the most votes for the first Academy Award for Best Actor, but the Academy determined that a human should win.
Rin Tin Tin never had any serious challenger for his fame, but there was another hero dog that claimed the public attention. Alto, a jet black Siberian husky was the lead dog in the final leg of the 1925 serum run to Nome. This wasn’t movie material for many years, but a real-life drama. In the winter in those days, Nome was cut off from the rest of the world. After the ice made water transport impossible, the community was isolated until the ice broke up in the spring. In the middle of the winter the community’s only doctor noticed a pronounced increase in tonsillitis. But it was only the first sign of a more serious condition. A potentially deadly diphtheria epidemic was poised to spread through Nome’s young people. The only possibility of saving lives was to get serum. And the serum was in Seward, nearly a thousand miles away.
Several options for getting the serum to Nome were proposed, including flying it in with airplanes. The airplanes available were open cockpit. There was little chance that the pilot could survive the -50 temperatures. With limited daylight and no navigational aids, using airplanes seemed to be doomed to failure. In fact after the first batch was delivered, there was an attempt to deliver a second batch by air. The first attempt was scratched due to a radiator problem. The second attempt produced a frozen radiator. The third attempt left the plane grounded as well. But that is a different story.
The serum was delivered by an amazing relay of dog sled teams. 20 mushers and nearly 150 seed dogs covered 674 miles in five and a half days and the serum was delivered. Balto lead the last time on the final leg of the run.
The story is part of the lore of Alaska. In 1964, when Alaska was preparing to celebrate the centennial of its status as a US territory, (the centennial was in 1967), work was begun on preserving the Iditarod trail. The Centennial race covered only 56 miles between Knick and Big Lake in 1967. That course was repeated in 1969. The modern Iditarod race was first run in 1973. The full run to Nome was won by Dick Wilmarch, who took nearly 3 weeks to complete the run. The course of the run is a reconstruction of the freight route to Nome. Since 1973, the race has been run ever year and has experienced lots of ups and downs. After several years of following the northern route, a second, more southerly route was added and the race now typically alternates between the two routes.
2015 was supposed to be a year for the southern route. And the promise that the Iditarod would be run every year regardless of the weather will be kept as the start of the race is set for today.
But 40 degree (above zero) weather and constant rain in Anchorage means that the start of the race had to be moved to Fairbanks. It looks like the weather is more cooperative in the northern city. Four inches of new snowing and lows in the teens promise a good start for the run. On Saturday, crews trucked snow into downtown Anchorage for a kind of ceremonial start, but it was melting so fast that it was mostly just a slushy mess. As it is the Fairbanks race start had to be moved off of the Chena River because the ice has been determined to not be strong enough to support the race activities.
Back in the ’70’s no one could have imagined that the Iditarod might be forced to cancel due to warm weather. Say what you will about climate change and global warming, there’s something different about the race this year.
They aren’t ready to give up on dog mushing in Alaska any time soon, however. The 1,000 mile Yukon Quest International Dog Sled Race, is considered by most mushers to be even more grueling than the Iditarod. The race runs between Fairbanks and Whitehorse in the Yukon Territory and runs one direction on year and the other direction the next. And there are lots and lots of other shorter races in Alaska every year.
I won’t be racing this year. I don’t have any dogs. And back home in South Dakota we are expecting highs in the sixties and seventies all week long. It may be too warm for dog sledding, but there is hope of open water to paddle before too many more days pass. Chance of snow is predicted as 0% for the week as we begin the marathon of rummage sale week. Good weather promises to make it a bit easier for the crews doing all of the work and should bring out the customers as well. We won’t be averting any potential disasters or epidemics, but there will be a lot of work done in a very few days around here, all of it motivated by a spirit of community.
I’ll pay attention to the Iditarod via computer and dream of the adventures of the mushers and the dogs. And I’ll pay attention to the dedicated volunteers who will not make the newspaper with their efforts, but who will nonetheless be contributing to the vitality of our community. Like the sled dogs, it isn’t hard to get our volunteers going. It takes practice to get them to slow down and take a break.
Adventures won’t be limited to Alaska this week. We’ll have our share in South Dakota as well.