My Iditarod addiction

If you see the start of an Iditarod, you will be hooked. When you are hooked on Iditarod, you have an Iditarod story. My Iditarod story begins in January 1978. As my boyfriend (now husband) Todd and I rode the Malaspina Ferry into Juneau, the Iditarod prepared for its sixth race. Two months later we watched the news clips of mushers Dick Mackey and Rick Swenson as they raced hell-bent, neck-and-neck across the finish line in Nome. Was it too outlandish for me to believe that all Iditarod races would be photo finishes?

Over the years we watched TV coverage while living in Juneau/Douglas. We listened to Raven Radio out of Sitka when we parked on Baranof and Chichagof Islands. Sometimes we even got lucky and caught the RuralCap broadcast on the TV evening news.

We first crossed paths with a musher when Libby Riddles visited Pelican after her daring snowstorm victory in 1985. Libby authored, “Danger the Dog Yard Cat,” complete with a musical tape of catchy tunes. “Fish Head Stew” remains a family favorite. The next three years, Susan Butcher won and I could often be heard saying “Alaska, where men are men and women win the Iditarod.”

In 1992, Martin Buser used a sail on his sled. My oldest son, Luke, then only six, drew a picture of what he thought that looked like. We met Buser on a promotional tour in Juneau. Luke gave him the picture. Buser autographed Luke’s hat.

I traveled north one winter for work and met musher Richard Burmeister, then Special Education Director for the Nome School District. Later that same day he introduced me to his son, Aaron, who was working on a shop project after school.

Upon moving to Palmer in 1994, we watched our first Iditarod from the ceremonial start in Anchorage. It was more amazing than I imagined. The crowd several deep, spread out along the streets was packed with excitement. The dogs looked strong and rarin’ to go; some barked, many jumped about and pulled on their harnesses. The crowd shifted into party mode. Mushers waved to the crowd, while fans shouted messages of good luck.

Saturday, March 2, 1995, our youngest son, Kaden was born. The next day Todd returned to visit us at Alaska Regional and promptly told me he was taking Luke and Pearl to Wasilla to see the Iditarod restart. They ditched us for the Iditarod!

Over the years we packed up one vehicle or another with food, drink, tons of coats, hats, gloves, boots, coolers, and sleds, and continued our race addiction. We’ve attended the restart in both Wasilla and Willow and have since declared that watching the ceremonial start is “cheating,” permissible only under special circumstances.

For several years we headed out Knik Goose-Bay Road and parked in a large church parking lot. There, we bundled up to our eye sockets in warm gear, feasted on homemade sandwiches, hot chocolate and coffee, and settled in to watch the teams fly by. We identified each musher as he or she approached, referring to the newspaper double page, pictured list, carefully protected in a large zip-lock bag. We stood close to the trail and some mushers high-fived us or tossed the kids dog booties as we wished them happy trails. We won’t forget seeing the larger-than-life Charlie Boulding, the Redingtons, Seaveys, Butcher, Dee Dee, John Baker, Buser, Paul Gephardt, Mike Williams, and all our other heroes so up close and personal.

Who hasn’t run into Dee Dee Jonrowe at various Valley events? Or petted Buser’s Happy Trails puppies at Colony Days in Palmer? The Valley is full of mushers and we document Iditarod musher sightings all year long!

Our neighbor, Helen Munoz, runs a bed and breakfast and for a few years Gephardt and his team stayed there overnight after the Anchorage ceremonial start. In the evening, after feeding, he allowed us to visit. Gephardt patiently answered questions about his team and the race.

When lack of snow prohibited a Wasilla start, we drove to Willow. We loaded up all necessary gear and marched past the beginning fanfare to the far side of the Willow Lake. We usually brought one of our kids’ friends and I could never understand how so many of them lived here in the Valley but claimed to never have seen an Iditarod start. Now that’s a deprived childhood!

Last year, daughter Pearl and I had business in Anchorage, so we caught the ceremonial start Saturday morning. We eagerly watched mushers pass on Cordova St., between 5th and 6^th Avenue. I regret more now missing the restart in 2014 since this year’s race restart was moved to Fairbanks.

When the kids grew older we made up our own Iditarod competition. Each family member constructed a top-20 list complete with one rookie. We reviewed records from previous years and read blurbs in newspapers and magazines on who had the best team. We devised two complicated scoring systems and calculated the results as mushers crossed the finish. But it never seemed to matter who won. We just enjoyed the excitement of the Iditarod. Anything can happen at any moment. Just when you think you know how the race ends, someone scratches, or hesitates, and another team comes from behind to win.

One year we hosted an exchange student from Germany. It was very cold that March and we were bundled up in many layers. After setting up “camp,” Kaden and Felix proceeded to hoot and holler at the mushers as they passed. Out loud, and to the laughter of bystanders, they professed their undying love for the Berington twins.

Last year I covered the Iditarod Picnic for the Frontiersman. The highlight of my afternoon included meeting Dan Seavey and Aliy Zirkle; both stellar ambassadors of the race.

The Iditarod is like no other in the world. It provides drama and live action of the richest kind, without a script, canned laughter, or inane commentary. And it gets better every year. We have great coverage in all media — more TV clips and specials, more radio updates, and more print media. We know more about mushers, trail conditions, and race progress than ever before. It’s fantastic!

I attended many Iditarod starts and have never been disappointed. After 37 years of Iditarod, I thought I knew a lot about it. When my youngest son, Kaden, entered high school, he played trumpet and we sought a tutor to help him further. We were referred to a local musician and tutor, Gleo Huyck. I soon discovered that Huyck is one of three men, including Joe Redington and Tom Johnson, considered co-founders of the Iditarod.

My Iditarod story continues….

Hope to see you at the ceremonial start in Anchorage on March 7.

Jenny Weaver follows the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog race from her home on Lazy Mountain.