Iditarod gets bad rap

The Iditarod could use a few friends. It has many but The Last Great Race has taken a few hits lately.

The latest blow came from Brown Forman, makers of Jack Daniels whiskey, which dropped its long-time sponsorship saying it was changing its advertising focus and would give its money to organizations that fit the new profile better. A Brown Forman spokesman offered high praise for the Iditarod organization and the care given to dogs in the race.

The bourbon people jumped ship a year after banker Wells Fargo dropped its 30-year sponsorship. Wells Fargo was apparently scared away by animal rights people who seized on several problems encountered by the race organization in recent years.

There have been several problematic incidents in which dogs have died while in harness during the race, sometimes because their mushers failed to pick up on signs of stress in members of their team. Iditarod organizers have taken appropriate measures to head off such problems.

I’ve been close to the Iditarod in past years and have known a number of mushers. I can testify that it’s a great organization and the race is a worthwhile contribution to Alaska’s civic legacy. Mushers love their dogs and are generally devastated when one dies, especially if the problem was one the musher should have picked up on.

Sponsors who give up on the Iditarod appear to be giving in to the worst instincts of a few of their managers. It’s understandable, in a way, because the animal rights people are able to muster a loud complaint from thousands of their supporters. That can be scary for thin-skinned corporate executives.

I first got involved with the race when I was manager of public relations for ARCO in Alaska. The company had recently made the big oil discovery at Prudhoe Bay and I was putting together its media and community relations program. When Joe Redington, Dorothy Page and their friends organized the first race from Anchorage to Nome in 1973, I was approached by Carl Huntington of Galena, whom we had been sponsoring in Anchorage-area sprint races for several years.

Carl wanted to know if we would sponsor him if he ran the Iditarod instead of shorter races like the Anchorage Fur Rendezvous. I asked my boss in Los Angeles and he said sure. I did some checking, became convinced that the race was in good hands and would be well-managed, then told Carl that his race was on and he could wear the ARCO colors. I forget how much money was involved but Carl was happy.

Carl then retired from racing and I signed up Emmitt Peters, the “Yukon Fox” to carry the ARCO colors the following year. He carried them across the finish line in first place in 1975, the first mushing rookie to win the Iditarod. The race is nominally 1,049 miles but that was a made-up number incorporating the fact that Alaska is the 49th state.

One of the enjoyable things for a sponsor and others close to dog mushing teams is that you can sometimes work as a handler. Those who work with dogs do the heavy-duty chores but I got to help hold the dogs back while they were pulling at their traces waiting for the signal to go. When the musher gives the signal the handlers drop the lines and step clear, the musher shouts “Hike” and the animals are off.

A few years ago I also helped rescue an Iditarider whose sled had overturned while making a sharp turn. The musher flipped his sled upright and got the dogs lined out while I helped the rider into his seat. The Iditariders are people who pay to ride in the musher’s sled for the ceremonial start on Fourth Avenue and get a unique view of the race’s first few miles.

Joe Redington loved sled dogs; his first husky was given to him the day he arrived in Alaska from Pennsylvania in 1948. He built a dog team by adding huskies, had more than 40 dogs by his second year and at one point kept 270 of the critters at his homestead in Knik. He couldn’t possibly race that many animals but Joe wanted to give them a home.

Redington became dedicated to preserving and encouraging the sport of sled dog racing after he visited a village and saw a snowmachine outside a house that should have had sled dogs. He decided that mushing teams would be replaced by machines unless something were done to encourage the sport. He lived near the Iditarod Trail for years and was fascinated by the idea of the Gold Rush footpath that ran from Seward to Nome. That fascination eventually led to Alaska’s most iconic sports event.

Iditarod sponsors who haven’t done so might want to look into the race’s history and its well-deserved reputation for nurturing a great event and caring for its canine athletes.

And by the way, Maker’s Mark bourbon tastes as good as, or better than, Jack Daniels.

Tom Brennan is an Anchorage columnist and author of five books. He was a reporter/columnist for The Anchorage Times and an editor and columnist at The Voice of The Times.