Front of the Pack

G.B. Jones is living his Iditarod dream -- he's out in front of the pack, with nobody in sight behind him. Legends like Martin Buser, Jeff King, Rick Swenson -- all in his dust. For now, he owns the trail.

Or at least the Iditarod Trail Committee parking lot. Jones has been camped there since last Sunday. He hasn't been off the property once. For the third year in a row, his name will be at the top of the list when the Iditarod officially starts accepting race applications tomorrow.

"I can't whip the big boys on the trail, but I guess I can do it here," Jones said. "Officially, Iditarod 2004 has started. The race is on."

Jones set up shop at the end of the paved parking lot, and he isn't about to leave, because he would risk someone else jumping in front of him in line. Last year, the next musher came on Friday night, but Jones already had him beat.

"I've kind of ruined it for the other mushers because they know I'll be here first," Jones said. "Two or three mushers will show up Friday, but the rest will be here Saturday morning."

Being the first to sign up for the race doesn't guarantee you anything but the right to be the first person to pick out your bib number in a drawing held at the banquet a few days before the race. But for Jones, it means a whole lot more.

"It gives me Web site exposure because until March, my name will be at the top of Iditarod.com's Web site," Jones said. "There's a link to my page, and people can visit it. I'm doing tours on the Iditarod Trail, and I can't afford to advertise. By being first, my name is right at the top."

At his Web site, www.alaskanmusher.com, people can learn more about the man who, in his 55 years, has circled the globe twice, taught kayaking in West Germany and who lived in Australia.

He first entered the Iditarod in 2001, but withdrew prior to the race because a lack of snow didn't allow him to get his qualifiers completed. Then, in 2002, he camped out and was the first musher to sign up. Drawing bib 35, he made his way to Nome, finishing in 52nd place. Last year, he drew bib number 9, and he eventually scratched in Kaltag.

"This year, we're looking better," he said.

Clearly, Iditarod is in Jones' blood. While the big names dominate the race, the Iditarod is every bit about people just like Jones -- the people who pour their heart, their finances and their lives into running the race, when they know they can't challenge for the title. His dream isn't about winning, it's about sharing the trail with history, and leaving his mark not on the winner's list, but on the many people he meets in the communities the trail weaves through on its way to Nome.

"I think it's the adventure, the being away from people and traffic, and being out their with my dogs," Jones explained. "That's what's so special about Iditarod."

Some of those people have signed The Grateful Sled, the sled that took him to Nome in 2002. Iditarod legends Jeff King and Emmitt Peters have signed it, but Jones is just as proud of the hundreds of signatures of everyday people -- people like Jones himself -- who have signed it as well.

Jones owns Arctic Kennels on Knik Lake, and he's quick to point out that the Iditarod Trail "runs right through my kennel. It's the start of the wilderness on the trail. There's no more roads on the Iditarod Trail after my kennel." He has 35 dogs, including Cymba and Sport, who have become famous during the last week.

"I bet they've had a thousand pictures taken of them this week," Jones said.

As tour bus after tour bus pour through the ITC headquarters, Jones, too, has become a celebrity. People from around the world have got to meet a real, live Iditarod musher, and Jones said it has been a lot of fun to talk with tourists.

"I've been busy all week. It takes dedication, or maybe stupidity, to be out here for a week ahead of time," Jones said with a chuckle. "People have been out here bringing me food the whole time. I brought all my own food and haven't even touched it. I could live survive a year like this."

One edible memento a lady brought was a sheet cake with chocolate icing. It had his name on it, but by Wednesday, the only uneaten portion summed up Jones' experience this last week. "Happy Camper" it read. Jones is hoping that rings true come March, when he'll trade the Iditarod parking lot for the Iditarod Trail, and start his journey to Nome, living a dream once again.