Wednesday, March 18, 2009 Pt. One

I am at LAX on my way to Nome, Alaska to work in the Iditarod’s Dog Lot and watch the mushers arrive at the Iditarod Finish Line.  This is my 10^th year doing this.  You would think that 9 other times would be enough.  There is something special here. I want to watch the musher come in and be a part of it in some small way.  There is lots to experience here.  

I want to walk on the Bering Sea.  The sea freezes about two miles out.  In past years, the residents of Nome stood their Christmas Trees up on the ice and called it the Nome National Forest.  They hold a golf tournament every year on the Sea Ice.  

I want to talk with some Native Americans. Usually, one night during the week there is Eskimo Dancing at a church.  I’ve gotten up and danced with them.  It is such fun and beautiful to watch when done ‘right.’ What I really like about the culture there is the art.  I go to the Art show every year.  Once I bought a carved ivory rose bud on a baleen stem.  I want to get something really good this year.

I want to visit with the friends I have made over the years. And I also want to eat. I want a hot dog from the convention center.  After working in the Dog Lot a few hours, that hot dog is good!  I want to go to a potluck at one of the churches and have some caribou stew. I want some ice cream from The Glue Pot. 

But mostly, after seeing my friends, I want to work with the dogs. Those are the true athletes of the Iditarod.  Last time I went there was a T-shirt that read, “Real athletes run 1,000 miles, naked through the snow.”  Their athletic ability is amazing.  But it is more. They have unconditional love for their musher.  The dogs love to pull a sled.  They are happiest when they are in harness, on a team and accomplishing something.  Beyond that, if their musher asks them to ‘hike’ in a blizzard to get to the next checkpoint, they will go, without question, into the snow and pull with every fiber of their being.  The mushers return the love.  If dogs slip into ice overflow and get stuck, their musher goes right in after them.  No hesitation, no questions.  Now that is love. 

Susan Butcher, a musher who recently died, was on the trail in the bush. A moose showed up and attacked her team.  She had no gun.  She pulled her ax out of her sled and went after the moose.  The next musher coming down the trail helped her and later teased her about whacking at a full-grown bull moose with her handy dandy axe. 

That spirit draws me back again and again.  The mushers don’t describe it as deep love.  They say, “It gets into your blood.”  But even though they are some of the toughest, most solid people I have ever met, their real stories inspire me and have taught me so much about how to live life to the fullest. 

So hurry up, people!  Stow your bags, get in your seat and buckle up. I’m off to the best vacation of the year. 

Stay tuned for more from Nancy!