4 a.m. WED, Nome finish, time it right and welcome three mushers by Joe Runyan
A stream of mushers follow in the tracks of 2012 Champ Dallas Seavey, filter into Nome at unconscionable hours. My hotel room phone rings at 4 a.m. and Dave Olson, a good friend of mine and also the 2012 Honorary Musher says, “You better get up, John (Baker, last year’s Champ) is coming in and we can catch Mitch Seavey and Mike Williams, Jr.” It’s a triple play, but it’s also an indicator of the effort required by a dedicated Iditarod fan.
Thinking I have cleverly laid out the right clothes for a comfortable 30 minute survival effort in the finish chute, I quickly finish lacing my sneakers, and throw on a parka. Technically, I’ll be dead if I stay out for longer than 45 minutes , so all is critical as I zip up my park exiting the hotel door.
Timing is perfect in the finish chute. Congratulating Mike Williams, shaking hands with his DAD Mike Williams, Sr, it seems my game plan is on. I really enjoyed the quiet dignity of Mike Williams, Jr. when I had the opportunity to talk to him in White Mountain. He was feeding his dogs chunks of whale blubber and explained to me how he fed it, noting that his dogs had acquired a demanding taste for it. Mike had gradually moved himself in the top ten, and it seemed that he had a sure lock on the top ten. 77 miles later, he is in 8th place, a wonderful accomplishment and a tribute to his steady strategy and his obvious affection for his dogs. One of his dogs is a remarkable standout, with malemute features, a big head, thick furred, big boned, and thick enough to saddle for a small child.
At the same time, in the chute, I can walk over and congratulate Mitch Seavey, the 1x champ and father of the new 2012 champ. Mitch is in a good mood, having finished in the top ten and knowing his son dominated the field with his consistent strategy. At the same time, milling about in the chute are relatives and friends I have known through the years, so the early morning is beginning to shape up as a social affair.
Amazed to see Race Marshal Mark Nordman in the chute so early in the morning, I walk over to shake his hand. He must have looked at the schedule and had my same idea that at least three mushers were coming into Nome in a knot. Nordman was the Race Marshal in 1989, the year I won the Iditarod, about the time Dallas Seavey quit wearing diapers and stopped chewing on his bottle, and has over the years acquired some notable skills.
“How in the heck do you get up this early and look so well composed?” kind of throwing him a sidewise compliment.
“Well, I hear the siren (blasted for every incoming musher) and put on my pants. I slip on my shoes and throw on my parka and walk out the hotel door.” To prove it, he lifts up his pants leg and shows me that he is barefooted in his slip ons, then looking around furtively, unzips his parka part way to illustrate conclusively that he isn’t wearing anything under the parka. I don’t know when he puts on his seal skin hat but I am thinking he must wear it to bed so he doesn’t have to look for it in the dark. Its possible, as Race Marshal for over twenty years, that he is in the habit of never taking off his hat.
What seems like only minutes later, my good friend John Baker, 2011 Champ, arrives with his trotting team of heavily furred huskies. John has more relatives, friends of relatives, and friends and their friends than any human being in the northern hemisphere. “Yea John” “go John Baker” etc reverberate off the downtown buildings as John meets his entourage. In the process, another big social event, I meet Pete Kaiser’s mom, (Pete arrived earlier in the morning at 2AM in fifth place) who tells me , “This mushing requires a lot of effort.” Hopefully Pete will time his race next year so that he can come in for dinner instead of staying out all night.
John Baker, 2012 champ pictured in White Mountain yesterday evening
A reporter asks John a good question about his race. “I could have made better schedule decisions,” says John. In hindsight, he admits that he should have run a more disciplined schedule, but otherwise delighted to see his fans and family.
After the mushers are filmed for the Insider (check out postings at the Iditarod website)and a few more formalities like the mandatory bag check for gear, the crowd evaporates back to warm houses and hotels.
The dogs, the important personalities in this adventure, are meanwhile led from the finish chute about two blocks further down the road to a designated dog lot. The lot, over the years, has acquired the convenience of metal storage vans, which store food and gear. Long chains have been anchored at both ends and serve as a rest area. The dogs of each team are tethered to separate lines which are provided with straw. Handlers hustle with the dogs to the dog lot, while the Musher usually sticks around the finish chute and mixes. In the dog yard, the team gets the vip treatment with already prepared meals.
Out the window of our production room at the city hall, I see the trademark color coordinated team of Dee Dee Jonrow, the diminutive and ageless musher from Willow, in the finish chute with her pink booted chargers. She is the tenth Musher into Nome, once again finding herself in the top tier of elites. Incredibly, Dee has finished 30 Iditarods, 15 times in the top ten. I hope I have the numbers correct—but I am close.
Final Thoughts
Top Ten, that is Dallas Seavey, to Dee Dee Jonrow are into Nome!!
