March 12 Nome 1PM–Wind Slacks, Mushers into Nome

March 12 Nome 1PM—Wind slacks off, mushers stream into Nome

Wednesday in Nome, first light after 8am, giving one a feeling that the long shadow of winter is still with us.   Musher after musher streams into Nome greeted by family and friends.  Interviews at our Insider site document each musher’s grand odyssey.  I asked Terry Burge, our cameraman on each musher arrival, about his impressions.

He said,” Listen to this”, and handed me the headphones while he searched files for Sonny Lindner’s  finish chute interview. Sonny, age 64 and the veteran of some 22 Iditarods, was asked about what he says is his last Iditarod.   With a laugh, “Little part of all of them,” pause, “the bad parts in particular,” of course referring to the dearth of snow, dirt, rocks, root wads, fallen timber, ice, glare ice like a hockey rink the size of the state of Massachusets on Golovin Bay, and winds that roll over snowmachines, send sleds flying across ice like a sail, at the same time dragging a helpless dog team with it.

I was with Jeff King at dinner, our frontrunning musher in this year’s Iditarod, and got a first hand description of the ferocity of the wind that pinned him and dogs down on the trail just before Safety Checkpoint, just 22 miles from the finish.  Coincidentally, I had also talked to an emergency rescue  guy from Nome who reported winds 45 and gusting to 60 knots at Safety, which further confirmed Jeff King’s experience.

As described in a previous article, King and team were in the wrong place at the wrong time when, in the middle of a dark night, at the end of a 1000 mile race, at mile 50 of the last run of the race, the wind hammered his team and blew his sled like a kite and his dogs like paper cups to the side of the trail.  Barely able to stand up, he put his dogs in a group huddle, turned the sled into the wind and thought about waiting for a lull in the wind. His dogs were instinctively concerned, not normally being blown off their feet in a 60 knot wind.  After an hour and a half and realizing that he was starting to get cold, he was faced with limited options.  One action was to leave the dogs, try to walk to Safety, warm up and regroup at the checkpoint, then walk back to the dogs. Bad option, since he had to leave the dogs.

At the same time, Dick Newton, an 84 year old miner from Takotna and an iconic Iditarod personality, was advancing  with his son-in law and granddaughters  on a snowmachine trip to Nome.  Jeff asked them for help and took a ride with them to Safety.  On the way, one of the machines, with his granddaughter driving, was rolled by the wind to the ocean side of the trail. Dick’s grandson got the machine upright , drove it back to the trail, and the group slowly advanced to Safety.

Of course, once receiving outside help, Jeff was under the rules forced to scratch, a decision that he does not regret, as it gave him the ability to return with other snowmachiners to safeguard his dogs. One of our guys with the Insider crew on snowmachines has climbed 8000 meter peaks all over the world and described the groundstorm at King’s dogs as one of the worst weather events he has ever experienced.

By chance, I was at lunch with John Baker, the 2011 champ and a really good friend of mine  talking about his trip into Nome, and saw Dick Newton and entourage.  “Was it really true the wind rolled your granddaughters machine?”  Everybody at the table confirmed she was rolled more than once, but miraculously came out of the incident uninjured.  I remember Jeff told me, “That was a tough kid, she never complained once.”

John Baker arrived this Wednesday morning into Nome.  He lives and trains in Kotzebue, which is located north of Nome, and is accustomed to the winds of the Bering Sea Coast.  Asked about today’s trip , he commented  that the wind had laid down and he had no problems in the blow holes along the coast into Nome.

Martin Buser, the 4x champ and the veteran of some 30 Iditarods (so many I can generalize), was at his host family’s home when I saw him yesterday.  Limping with a bum ankle, nursing his hands, Martin was directing his crew and parking dogs on strawbeds.  Since I noticed on the Insider Tracker that he had stopped by Tommy Johnson’s cabin—-a well known shelter to locals traveling on the trail into Nome—and had also been informed that a monitor in this year pegged 45 knots and bursts to 55 knots, I wanted his take.

“Actually, I was stopped but not at Tommy Johnson’s cabin.”  What, how can this be?  Martin Buser, the veteran, champ, and student of the trail, has trained on the coast and knows all the hideaways to seek for shelter.  Honestly, I would have never known of Tommy Johnson’s and probably most mushers are the same.  “I stopped at the shelter cabin at the bottom Topkok hill,” and then continued into the wind.  Martin told me the wind suddenly surged and pinned him, unable to move.  He did the same as King and put the dogs in a big group hug and tipped over the sled into the wind.  Unable to even stand up, his goal was to wait for daylight.  At one point he thought about switching foot gear to a lighter pair so he could walk in the wind, but the wind chill dampened that idea.  “I might have been able to do it, but my body was a rebel.  I just physically couldn’t walk out of the wind.”  Luckily, with daylight and wind surging ,he was able to catch a lull and get the heck out of the blow hole.

The Norwegians changed the character of this year’s race with the entry of Robert Sorlie, 2x champ, Ralph Johanessen, a rookie but arriving as one of Norway’s best,  and Joar Ulsom, 7th as a rookie in Iditarod 2013.   The Norwegians also arrived with an entourage of snowmachiners and media people.

One of the media people told me that Robert Sorlie is known in the Norwegian press as the Silver Fox and Ralph Johanessan as the Mountain Fox.  Robert got beat up, but Ralph was really tenderized.  He reportedly has broken ribs, probably a cracked collar bone, and then for an added photo opportunity either broke or at least impressively altered the configuration of his nose.  Glad that he is finishing, he has conceded he wouldn’t knowingly do it again—which is understandable.   I don’t even want to break my nose. How about you?

Today, Abby West, Nathan Schroeder, and John Baker told me the wind wasn’t bad—what a difference a day makes, and finished uneventfully.

Mushers advancing into Nome,  Wind a FACTOR.