MARCH 13 Nome-2pm—36 mushers into Nome
With 36 mushers into Nome, and only 13 left on the Iditarod trail, the scene in Nome is something like a big mixer for mushing fanatics. Friends of the musher, handlers, family walk about the Iditarod headquarters, venture over to the finish line to watch a mushing colleague finish, and compete for tables at downtown restaurants.
Libby Riddles, the 1985 champ and first woman to win the Iditarod, lived in Nome when she was training her team. Dressed in an elegant seal skin parka, “This was parka 101, I tanned the hides, and did all the sewing,” has been a feature at the finish line greeting incoming mushers. Libby, as Iditarod buffs remember, was at the front of the Iditarod pack when ferocious winds made experienced mushers think twice about going across Norton Sound. Having trained on the coast with dogs that understood the wind, she decided to cross the bay in the brewing storm, despite local caution. Prepared and able to make a quick decision, she was on the ice of Norton Sound, successfully made it alone to Koyuk and eventually won the race.
Her victory had many consequences. Women and men compete equally in the Iditarod and she proved that it was so. She was also part of the tide of women athletes who quietly asked for full participation in sports and only strengthened national efforts to embrace Title 9 equality in sports. My three daughters, who all enjoyed sports, owe tribute to women like Libby.
Today, I have been a peripatetic, hoping to wander by mushers, many of them in the middle of a throng of their supporters. My luck, I can’t believe it! There’s Aliy Zirkle, the three by 2nd place winner at the finish line waiting for her husband Allen Moore. I tell her she is my favorite woman musher in the entire world. Then I ask about the wind in Safety. Her ten second answer said the wind was overwhelming and she just physically couldn’t go out in it. Big Smile. I love the attitude of these women Iditaroders.
Later in the afternoon, I get a serious interview with Aliy in a main street tea shop. She’s taking short steps across the street and admits pulling a hamstring muscle. She’s already been to the Nome community gym today , loosened up, and spent some time in the sauna. She wanted to make it clear that the wind storm at the finish of the race was the real deal, punishing, frightening, and life threatening. It was not an over-amped reality show.
Speaking of the possibility of continuing past Safety , Aliy related, “I just physically could not do it,” and goes on that she felt fortunate to have made it just to the Safety Checkpoint. “My race ended at the Safety Checkpoint—I was not going to move until the wind died. “ She told Mark Nordman (race marshal) that concern for any following mushers should be taken seriously.
Unaware that she had passed Jeff King in the middle of the night, she told me that a berm of ice left by a grader on the road to Safety was the only thing that kept her sled from sliding towards the beach of the Bering Sea. She was not able to see the reflective Iditarod trail lathe to the east of the road. For four miles, barely able to stand, she inched towards Safety. On arrival, she parked her dogs on the side of the building and walked to the front porch and entrance of the old roadhouse used as Safety checkpoint. The wind up-ended her , knocked Aliy off her feet and therefore she unceremoniously crawled through the door of the checkpoint.
Having secured her dogs and found shelter, the last 22 miles to Nome became Iditarod 14.1—-another race and alternate state of mind.
Two hours later, she saw the light of Dallas Seavey advancing to Safety. He switched a leader, she remembers, while organizing the team out of sight of Dallas. She wasn’t sure, but deduced that the wind may have settled, and pursued Dallas to Nome. In a mystery that would not be resolved until Nome, Dallas thought the pursuing Zirkle was actually his father Mitch (who would in fact come in third. Aliy believes that her conditioning regime is why she made it to Safety, and that, she adds, with a little luck.
In the Iditarod headquarters near the finish line I see Jessie Royer, the musher with the perfect penmanship, and tell her that she is my favorite woman musher in the entire history of sled dog racing. Somehow she has worn face protection, pulled her parka hood close, and arrived with her complexion perfect, like she was living under rain clouds in Seattle in warm weather. 7th place, unbelievable accomplishment! Top ten!
Abbie West arrives 18th, wearing a long blue parka with gold trim around the waist and at the arms, plus, as an added style feature, the Alaska flag stars around the skirting at the bottom of her parka. She has just completed her first Iditarod and missed by 120 seconds being crowned rookie of the year. She smiles, jokes around with friends, and is delighted with her dogs. This is the Iditarod of all Iditarods and she has triumphed.
I don’t see Michele Phillips under the burled arch finish a short time later in 20th, but do bump into her walking on Main Street. Michelle, you are the most outstanding woman musher of the year. She smiles kind of like, oh yeah, are you sure? But I am serioius. 20th place, unreal! She is an Iditarod veteran, this now her 5th Iditarod. Asked about the trail, she shrugs her shoulders, smiles, five second sound bite, “ It was OK.” What’s with these women mushers? They are tough.
Unfortunately, I miss finishers Paige Drobny, Kristy Berington, and Karin Hendrickson,(hope to catch them later) but get a lucky break. John Baker, the 1x champ, has found a truck and offers to drive to the first road crossing outside of town to watch his partner Katherine (Kat) Keith approaching Nome. Like the other women who have finished, she is a physical fitness nut, having trained and competed in numerous triathlons. In the back seat of the crew cab truck reside excited passengers—her mother and her daughter.
Pat, Kat’s mom, confesses that she was in uber-angst when the Insider tracker showed Katie going zero mph outside of Shaktoolik. Aware of the wind storm, but unaware that a shelter cabin existed by Lonely Rock, Katherine’s mom was sure she was pinned down by the wind.
As we watched Kat, kicking and pushing with a ski pole, then hopping to the other leg to pump on the other side, and team at the first road crossing, one cannot help to imagine the sense of accomplishment she felt. First Iditarod, rookie Kat Keith crosses the finish! An hour and a half later we are having lunch reminiscing with John Baker, Aaron Burmeister, and family, looking out big seaside windows at the frozen surface of the Bering Sea. I told Kat she was my favorite woman musher of all time.
In truth, I confess an observation. The women mushers are ten second sound bite experts, laugh off adversity, and the masters of understatement with a uniquely feminine mindset, accepting profound challenges with equanimity.
