Jerry Austin has competed in the Iditarod Dog Sled Race a total of 18 times and has been inducted into the Iditarod Hall of Fame. He started a family-run hunting and fishing business and in the winter they run dog team tours. Austins live in St. Michael, Alaska, on the west coast of Alaska, and run the tours from there.
It's not the edge of the world, but you can see it from there. I got the bug and wanted to run a dog team so on March 13 I called Austin's Alaska Adventures to see if they had room on their trip starting four days later. I found out that these trips fill up a year in advance but by coincidence, someone had cancelled the day that I called. Two days later arrangements were confirmed and I left the day after that--flying from Chicago to Anchorage, then on to Nome. In Chicago I parked off-airport. The shuttle bus driver did not know where the Alaska Airlines gates were located! Is that a harbinger of things to come?
After overnighting in Anchorage I caught a morning flight to Nome. Here the sun is rising over the Chugach Mountains, viewed from Anchorage International Airport.
Shop at Anchorage International Airport. This was the only moose I saw on the entire trip.
The 90 minute flight to Nome flies over the Alaska Range--too many mountains to have names for them all.
Nome lies 539 miles northwest of Anchorage, on the edge of the Bering Sea. Gold was discovered in 1898 on Anvil Creek (Nome was briefly called Anvil City) and it was as a gold mining town that Nome first won fame.
Gold dredge just outside of Nome. Note the lack of trees--more about this a little later.
World's Largest Goldpan. At the airport I was met by my hosts, given a short tour of the town, and taken to the hotel. Then I walked around town, viewing the sights. This picture was taken by a National Parks ranger from Virginia who said that the second most asked-for directions in Central Park in New York City are how to find the statue of Balto, the lead dog of the team that brought the serum to Nome. (The most asked-for directions are for the restrooms.)
Though not taken on this trip, this a picture of the statue in Central Park of Balto, Seppala's lead dog when the serum arrived in Nome. This picture was taken when Christo's "Gates" were in Central Park, Feb. 2005.
Most of the people in Nome are warm and very friendly but a few are sort of stiff and cold. I couldn't get this guy to warm up.
It's a long way from anywhere. Nome is closer to Tokyo than it is to Chicago.
There was a great crafts show at the church on the day I arrived in Nome. Sealskin mittens, beaver fur hats, carvings, beadwork, and artifacts were all on sale from locals.
Hansen's Trading Post has bargain prices on 2-liter bottles of soda. In the wintertime, everything has to be flown into Nome--each of the three roads out of town extends only 75 miles.
This makes Lower 48 prices of roughly $2.80 per gallon look like a bargain.
At the outdoor mining museum. It won't start--maybe it has a dead battery.
Outdoor Mining Museum
Standing on the Bering Sea. In the distance (long distance--not visible 163 miles away) is Russia.
The town of Council, 75 miles from Nome, is the closest location that has trees. The Nome forest consists of Christmas trees that have been stuck in the frozen Bering Sea, but they provide habitat for many exotic animals.
Front Street is the main drag in Nome. This burled gate marks the finish line of the 1,151 mile Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race which commemorates the 1925 delivery of diphtheria serum to Nome.
Musher, Dog, and Me (the dog and I are both wearing red coats--can you tell which is which?) This musher, Mernan Maquieira, wearing bib #68, finished the race earlier in the day and brought his lead dog to the finish line for pictures. Virtually all of the dogs are gentle though some are quite shy.
Off the Bering Sea ice and onto Front Street, here comes Dan Carter wearing bib #60.
Timer at the Finish Line. Let's see, that's 14 days, 3 hours, 36 minutes and 11 seconds. This time is all the more remarkable when you consider that the winning times in the first eight races (1973-1980) were slower than Carter's time (Carter finished 49th overall this year). Note that the second dog has stopped pulling as the tug line is slack. Maybe he senses that this is the end of the race. Some of the dogs are wearing booties to protect their feet. Usually booties are used in snow (not ice) as the snow can get can get as sharp as needles and cut the dogs' feet.
The first action taken once a musher signs in is that a race official checks his sled for all of the required gear (mushers are required to carry a cooker so they can melt snow and prepare food for the dogs, fuel for the cooker, food, a sleeping bag--minimum weight 5 pounds, axe, snow shoes, veterinary book for all dogs, etc.). Each dog is identified by an implanted microchip; the officials may check to make sure that the team consists of only dogs that a musher started with.
He has all the toys. All of the houses in Nome are frame and quite small by Lower 48 standards. Garages are rare. All the toys are out front-- (L to R) the snow machine, pickup truck, snow blower, and 4-wheeler.
On Sunday, March 17, the ITC (Iditarod Trail Committee) held the awards banquet at the Nome Recreational Center. Dinner was shrimp, roast beef, salad, and lots of good desserts. :-)
Lance Mackey won the race in 9 days, 5 hours, 8 minutes and 41 seconds, fastest time ever was 8 days, 22:46:2, so this was a fast race. Lance had his salivary glands removed due to cancer so he is forced to drink a lot of water to keep his mouth hydrated. Lance is the third Mackey to win the Iditarod--brother Rick won in 1978 and father Dick won in 1983. All three won wearing bib number 13 and all won on their sixth tries.
No security checkpoint. When was the last time you flew without going through a metal detector and taking off your shoes? Maybe TSA figures that anyone flying to St. Michael is not a threat to national security. At the Bering Air ticket counter they weigh each passenger's baggage and ask the passenger's weight, to make sure that the aircraft is loaded properly.
The flight across Norton Sound from Nome to St. Michael takes about 35 minutes. There were vast amounts of ice but also many open leads, so it is not possible to dog sled or snow machine from Nome to St Michael across the sound.
The Village of St. Michael, at the southeastern end of Norton Sound, has a population of 368. The village was founded by Russians in 1833 for the purpose of trading with the Yupik Eskimos of the area. The economy is based on subsistence. Houses are frame, elevated above grade to prevent thawing of the permafrost (permanently frozen ground) beneath them. The village has running water and a sewer plant with all pipes insulated and run above ground.
We (the seven guests on this adventure) stayed in the log cabin on the left. Across the road is the Austin's house where we went for meals and showers while in St. Michael. The cabin's heat is turned off when there are no guests staying there, so to avoid frozen plumbing, the water is turned off in the wintertime. The facilities consisted of a plastic jug of water with a spigot at the bottom (the sink drained into a plastic bucket that could be emptied when full) and a honey bucket. A single fuel-oil heater with a fan kept the cabin comfortable at outside air temperatures of 0 degrees.
At dinner the first night, everyone was asked why they chose to come on this trip. When it was my turn I said, "One word. Winterdance." Everyone laughed and immediately started talking about the book. Before starting out on the trail, Kathy and Ellen read copies of Winterdance by Gary Paulsen. Norton Sound is visible through the window.
The book that started it all.
Being the early bird that I am, I got up before sunrise to capture this picture of the sun rising over Norton Sound (ok, so sunrise was around 8:30 am, I was still up before the sun on some days).
A short walk up the road from the cabin I came across this small cemetery.
The ice looks like coral fans, being windblown and partially melted by heat from the sun. It has turned gray from dust from the nearby road.
More Windblown Ice at Cemetery
On Tuesday morning before setting out on the trail, LaDena, Ron, and I trekked up to the AC (Alaska Commercial) store to check it out. Prices on 20 oz. bottles of Coke are a little higher than prices in Nome. Nothing is brought into St Michael by barge--everything has to be flown in. At the Post Office the postmistress explained that the old P.O. had burned and that they were in temporary quarters. This explained the National Guard sign over the entrance. She has been trying to get a flagpole and flag for 4 years.
Dressing stylishly is always important--one wouldn't want the dogs to be embarrassed by having to drag around a poorly dressed musher. Austins outfitted us with excellent cold weather gear including parka, bib overalls, mittens, and heavy boots.
The only way to steer a sled is to get the dogs to pull in the desired direction. Mushers stand on the backs of the runners and when they need to slow the sled, step on the brake, the red bar between the runners. Two prongs on the brake dig into the ground.
Careful preparation is the key to troublefree travel. It turned out that the battery was dead so we had to use dog teams. After our arrival in St Michael on Monday, we spent much of the afternoon learning some of the terminology of sledding (say "hike" to get the dogs moving--never say "mush"; "gee" to turn right, "haw" to turn left), how to harness the dogs, and getting outfitted with warm winter gear including a heavy parka, bib overalls, boots, hats, and mittens. Note the brand new beaver skin mittens just below the fuel nozzle. They are on a cord around my neck so they won't get lost. Anyone who thinks the yellow sign applies to me gets 10 demerits.
Because our sleds carried only snacks for the dogs, a sleeping bag, and our personal gear, our teams were small. I had five dogs and most of the others had four. This is Per, my lead dog. Per is big, strong, smart, and well-trained. His blue eyes barely show in this picture. I found it difficult to get any of the dogs to look at me long enough to get pictures of their eyes.
The dogs are amazing. They can't wait to get going. There were times when I stood on the brake with both feet and the dogs were still able to move the sled forward. Here Per is straining against his harness even though he knows we are not ready to leave. The chain from Per's collar and in front of him goes to the leader hook, which is used whenever the team is stopped. The sled anchors hold the sled from going forward and the leader hook keeps the team stretched out, keeping them from tangling their lines or fighting.
Foxie
Foxie (black) and Blaze were positioned immediately behind Per in the position of swing dogs.
Blaze is in his harness. The centerline or mainline is visible in the upper left. This is the line that connects all of the dogs to the sled. Each dog's collar is attached to the centerline by a short neckline--this keeps the dog facing forward. The dog's power is transmitted to the mainline via the tugline which is connected at one end to the mainline and the other to the harness (over the dog's back hips).
Daisy (left) and Chico were wheel dogs, immediately in front of the sled. Wheel dogs have to be strong because they pull the sled around turns. If there had been additional pairs of dogs between the swing dogs and the wheel dogs, they would have been called team dogs. Iditarod teams can number up to 16 dogs after the restart. (The race officially starts in downtown Anchorage but because there is no safe way to get the teams out of the city, they race to Eagle River, then truck the dogs to Willow where they restart the race.) The mainline, necklines, and Daisy's tugline show nicely in this picture.
Chico was very shy and would cower and back away from me whenever I approached. When he was near his dog house at the kennel, he would hide inside. But he pulled like a champ. Chico has one blue eye and one yellowish-brownish eye and does not like making eye contact.
After an hour and half or so, and after crossing Norton Sound (about 5 miles) and pulling up on shore, we stopped, set the anchors and leader hooks, and gave the dogs a snack of a frozen herring. The rest stop was welcome as it was tiring, concentrating on not falling off, riding the sled and using the brake.
Temperatures at night went as low as -35 but each day we waited to start until afternoon when the temperatures had risen to between 0 and 10 above. The balaclava and goggles were important for keeping my face warm, but the exercise of "pedaling" (helping the dogs by standing on the runner with one foot while pushing with the other--like riding a scooter), braking, and occasionally running behind the sled, kept me very warm--hence the open jacket. After the first day I stopped wearing a fleece jacket under the heavy parka because it was just too hot. Those beaver mitts were wonderfully warm but sometimes I would have to take them off help cool down.
This was the first "snack stop" after coming off the ice (background). The dogs have had a few minutes' rest and their snacks. Even though they know that we are not leaving yet, Per and the swing dogs are straining at their harnesses.
This was the last dog-sled trip of the season and all of the logistics had long ago been worked out. Riders on snow machines brought all of the dog food (first), human food (second), water, and other necessary items. They arrived well before we did on the dog sleds and had the generator going (for electric lights) and had the tents all warmed up. The Hansen Weatherport tents measure about 12x 15. They consist of metal tubular frames, plywood floors, and insulated plastic sheets. A regular door is used for access. They are heated by small oil stoves. The white tent is the mess hall and the two brown tents to the right are sleeping quarters. The tent on the left is for the Austins.
The dogs are staked out so they cannot fight. Here LaDena and Ron are preparing the dog food while Jerry Austin captures the fun on video. Klikitarik is an old reindeer camp, and though we did not go over to it, the remains of a corral are still there.
Spacious accommodations. The oil stove in our tent was not turned up high enough the first night; this was the only time on the trip that I was cold.
LaDena and Ron shared the tent with the dog food (white buckets) and me. After a short time we didn't even notice the smell of the fish oil (used for high energy for the dogs).
Modern facilities with electric lights and an electric heater! What more could you ask for?
Clara kept us well fed. The first night at Klikitarik we had spaghetti with moose meat sauce. Yummy. Here are moose steaks ready for cooking for breakfast.
Clara (standing) was wonderful company and a great cook. Adam and Chris show their appreciation. Jerry (right) is a character and kept us amused and informed about life on Norton Sound.
Outside air temperature and inside air temperature. It was nice and toasty inside the tents.
The dogs are happy as can be and just curl up and fall asleep on the ground. They have a very heavy undercoat that protects them from the cold. Dogs depend on their tongues and the pads of their feet for cooling. They do not perspire except through their pads, so they can stop running without the need for a cool-down, unlike horses and humans.
Back on the trail the next day--crossing the tundra between Klikitarik and our destination, Golsovia River Lodge. Each day we covered about 25 miles--an easy pace that kept us on the trail for 3-4 hours.
There are few places where the trail makes a sharp turn. Where it does, one gets a sense of what we looked like.
After snacking the dogs there is a little time to work on that Alaska suntan. After all, it was my spring break. The dogs seems a bit confused by this.
Arctic Explorer Ellen. Since we were not above the Arctic Circle, technically, we were not in the Arctic. but conditions 250 miles further north would not have been much different.
With a team of four dogs there are two lead dogs. Ellen and her team followed me on the trail.
Just before the crest of this hill was a small sign that said "10 miles to camp." Over the years more than a couple of mushers have been fooled by that and have taken a rest-stop at the side of the trail. The lodge consists of a large log cabin with big kitchen, a living room, and 3 bedrooms. There are several more Hansen Weatherport tents, inlcuding one where we were able to shower. Because the water is turned off for the winter, heated water was put in SunShowers, plastic bags with little shower spouts. Delightful. The Golsovia river is on the far side of the lodge. The bare spots are evidence of the shortage of snow this year.
Russians settled this area in order to trade with the Eskimos. This is what remains of one cabin built in 1834. The corner detail is unique. The logs are almost dovetailed.
In the kitchen at Golsovia, Clara prepares a salmon using the traditional Eskimo knife, an Ulu.
Happy mushers dining at Golsovia. Clockwise around the table from the bottom: Adam, Chris, Kathy, Ellen, Ron, and LaDena.
Since the water is turned off in the wintertime to prevent burst pipes, we had to go up the Golsovia River to collect water. Even though the ice is three feet thick, there is flowing water below. A chain saw was used to cut a hole in the ice to reach the water. The white buckets will be used to fill the gray barrels with drinking water.
Louie dips water out of the river.
After filling the water barrels, Louie got out the .22 rifles for a little target practice. Ol' Deadeye takes aim.
It's a little easier using the snowmachine for a rest. Louie wondered if any of us would match the record of 3 hits out of 10 shots. Well, I couldn't let that challenge go unmet and hit 4 out of 10.
Ellen takes aim from the back of the snowmachine.
On the way back from getting water the river ice was smooth and I opened up the throttle. Exhilirating. Later, when going to get driftwood, I really got moving--up to about 80 mph. Where sheets of ice collide pressure ridges are formed. This is a little one on the river. They can be 30 feet high out on the Bering Sea.
Rock with Lichens
Up close this what some of the tussocks looked like where the snow was melted or blown away.
We saw no wildlife on the trip, though there were abundent signs of snowshoe hares (Alaska has no rabbits). I saw only two birds over the 5 days that we were on the trail.
More Trundra Plants
Snow Dunes. Well, it looks like a beautiful beach. But at 0 degrees, that's snow.
Snow Dunes
We watched for the Northern Lights every night. On the return trip, at Klikitarik, with temperatures around -20, we were treated to one of the best displays seen in years. The group on the trip the week before saw none.
They got better.
And better.
That is the moon, not a streetlight, in the upper left. The most common color for northern lights is green. Occasionally other colors show. Here a little red is visible. We felt very lucky to be treated to such a wonderful display.
If you ain't the lead dog, the view never changes. Here is my team of five. It is easy to see how the mainline, tuglines, and necklines are all connected. I was amazed at the intelligence of the dogs. Since I was toward the end of the line, I had to be careful not to overtake other sleds. When teams are side by side is when trouble can start including fights and tangled lines. In order to keep from overtaking the sled in front of me I would have to ride the brake, but this is tiring on me and makes extra work for the dogs. So when starting up I would let the sled in front of me get 50 or 100 feet ahead before I released the brake. The dogs just wanted to run and would strain against their harnesses and bark loudly until I released the brake. After a while they learned what I wanted. It was amazing to see all five of them looking over their shoulders at me to see when I would say "hike" (one never says "mush"). Just gently saying "hike" was all it took and all five of them would turn and pull like crazy.
Here we are crossing the ice of Norton Sound, returning to St. Michael.
The return trip retraced our steps. We spent one night at Klikitarik and then back to St. Michael. The total distance covered was about 100 miles. It was with real regret that we said goodbye to the Austins at St. Michael airport (Jerry and Clara are both wearing dark glasses--I wonder who they don't want to recognize them).
It was an adventure to remember.
The Bering Air turbo-prop that flew us back to Nome.
In Nome, LaDena and Ron, who had volunteered with the Iditarod in Nome for the week before our adventure, were taking an extra day on the way back to America. We all met at Airport Pizza in Nome for one last meal together. L to R: LaDena, Kathy, Adam, Chris, Ellen, Mike, and Ron
Nome's busy airport gets three scheduled Alaska Airlines Boeing 737 flights each day. I caught flight 153 back to Anchorage and then the red-eye from Anchorage back to Chicago. I got back to Champaign on Monday evening and taught class (I use the term loosely) at 8:30 Tuesday morning.
