The details of Dallas Seavey's historical come-from-behind victory in the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race will emerge as mushers awake from much-needed sleep Tuesday in Nome. What is clear is that Seavey never gave up hope, never gave in to the elements, and never doubted himself or his dog team.
Champions are defined by their actions under the stress of competition, and in this case, despite the raw force of Mother Nature, Seavey was astounding. He raced against the most talented dog mushers in the world and beat them all. More impressively, Seavey beat the nearly1,000-mile Iditarod trail in a year described by many veteran mushers as the most difficult they've seen.
We live in a day and age in which most people are insulated from the natural elements. We drive automobiles from one place to another, covering hundreds of miles a day without a thought on paved surfaces. We move about our daily lives from one climate-controlled environment to the next, be it heat or air conditioning. We perform our daily routines on a predictable schedule revolving around the hours on a clock.
Rarely are we exposed to the raw and humbling power of nature when conditions are at their worse. Often, these are brief moments when we are exhausted from threats beyond our control. Survivors of a hurricane, tornado or tsunami know the helpless feeling of insignificance in the face of such powerful events. They realize just how small they are, and how little influence over their surroundings they have.
Last night, the leading Iditarod mushers also knew that feeling. Jeff King of Denali Park, Aliy Zirkle of Two Rivers, Seavey and their dogs were nothing more than tiny specks on a landscape defined by immense size and unrelenting wind. It is foolish to second guess any musher's decisions a day later. They were the ones who were there. They saw it, felt it, experienced it. Undoubtedly they feared it, too. All made choices that were right for themselves.
King, Seavey and Zirkle were not racing each other on the final day of Iditarod. They were competing against the weather and the Iditarod trail. They raced against the wind. King and Zirkle lost to the wind while Seavey and his seven huskies found a way to get through. Dallas and his team pushed, pulled, slid and jogged for 77 miles from White Mountain to Nome. They were knocked down and got back up. They were blown to a standstill and started back up. They refused to quit. And that made all the difference.
More than 50 mushers remain on the trail between Kaltag and Nome. All face the same difficult trail and there is always a wild card.
Fourteen teams wisely waited out last night's windstorm in Shaktoolik, 150 trail miles away from the Front Street drama in Nome. It will be at least four or five days until the final Iditarod musher reaches the finish line and it is likely that more teams will scratch.
Even if the wind subsides, challenges such as the glare ice on Golovin Bay, which knocked out Kelly Maixner and Hugh Neff, will continue to stymie the remaining teams. Veteran musher Aaron Burmeister spent hours trying to get across the bay, finally ending up guiding his dogs along the rough shoreline without a trail. Martin Buser wisely rested four hours in Golovin Village midway to White Mountain to recharge his team. Less experienced dog drivers with younger and unproven leaders will surely struggle on this stretch of polished ice.
And that is part of the Iditarod's appeal – the prospect of an improbable finish to what many thought was a foregone conclusion.
What happened at Safety?
Exactly what happened to King remains unknown. Reports from observers and race officials indicate that the wind became so fierce in an area known as the Solomon Blowhole, just outside the Safety checkpoint, that King's team was blown off the trail, tangled and demoralized. Unable to restart his team, King hunkered them down while the wind continued to blow. After three hours of waiting and trying, King decided to request help and to scratch from the race.
Zirkle faced the same conditions as she approached Safety. Her run time from White Mountain was a respectable seven hours. Not until Safety did she realize she had passed King in the dark as a vociferous windstorm enveloped the musher and her team. When the wind blows that hard, the noise becomes almost unbearable. Mushers bundled in layers and wearing ski goggles to protect their eyes have tunnel vision running down the trail. They are keenly focused on their dog team, and keeping themselves and their sleds on the trail. It is easy to pass another team just 20 feet away and not realize it in such nasty conditions.
Zirkle chose to rest her team at Safety rather than continue on to Nome, just 22 miles farther down the trail. Mushers are ultimately responsible for the well being of their dogs, and Zirkle decided it was best to wait for conditions to improve. She rested her team in the relative shelter of Safety for two and a half hours, until Seavey arrived and departed a little after 1 a.m. At that point, Zirkle returned to the trail in pursuit. She left Safety 19 minutes behind Seavey, and was able to make up all but two minutes of his lead by the finish.
Seavey never quit. Running a measured race from the first day in Willow, Dallas never asked more of his dogs than necessary to stay on his pre-determined schedule. He was 20th leaving Takotna after his 24-hour layover and 13th by the race's midpoint in Cripple. Seavey was still 13th position when he left the Yukon River at Kaltag fewer than three days ago.
At that point, Seavey started racing. He cut rest and dropped underperforming dogs as he blistered his way up the coast. Seavey skipped Unalakleet and Elim, resting just eight hours on the way to White Mountain. At this point, Seavey was third, but it seemed nearly impossible that he could make up the three-hour lead that King had on him at that point. He had only seven dogs remaining in his team.
The race for first place is over, but the run to the finish for those teams still on the trail has not concluded. Iditarod has a long tradition of staying "open" until the last musher arrives in Nome. The Red Lantern hangs on the burled arch in Nome, symbolizing the light at the end of the race and the completion of the journey for all mushers and dogs. Only once the final team crosses the line will the light be extinguished and the race complete.
Zack Steer, a five-time Iditarod finisher, owns and operates the Sheep Mountain Lodge with Anjanette and two young boys. Zack will bring a competitive racer's analysis to this year's Iditarod coverage. Follow Zack's race analysis at Alaska Dispatch.