Scdoris showed courage, moxie in her Iditarod run

March 20, 2005

Simply Sleight/Kari Sleight

Several years ago I wrote a column pondering why some people crumbled at the first sign of adversity in their life, while others are the proverbial pillars of strength. What is it in some people's genetic makeup that gives them such inner strength to draw on when life hands them a lemon?

I've yet to find the answer to that question and I continue to be amazed at the stamina and determination some people exude when life throws them a curve ball.

There's been a lot of press coverage of Rachael Scdoris' first attempt at running the Iditarod, some of it good and some not quite as good. Some people thought Scdoris had no business even attempting to run the Last Great Race and that granting her special accommodations due to her disability would dilute the integrity of the race.

For those who haven't heard of Rachael Scdoris, she is a legally blind young woman from Bend, Ore., who was raised by a devout musher, her father, and is an accomplished musher in her own right. She has limited sight due to a degenerative eye disease and asked the Iditarod Trail Committee to grant her permission to use a visual interpreter throughout the course of the race.

The ITC eventually gave her the thumbs-up on using the visual interpreter but not without controversy.

Rachael could have easily let her disability consume her life; she could have been bitter over having her sight taken from her at such an early age and people would have understood. Instead, she set her goals high and didn't allow her disability to deter her.

I could have been just another outsider looking in on Rachael's quest to run in the Iditarod, reading of her quest in newspapers and watching reports on television.

Thanks to my good friend, Martha, who lives in Bend and works at the newspaper there, I had the privilege of meeting this extraordinary young woman. When Rachael made her first trip to Alaska to meet with the ITC board the summer of 2003, she stopped by our office.

The determination and confidence Scdoris radiated as we talked was inspiring; it was obvious she was not to be easily dissuaded. This was definitely a person who knew what she wanted and was not willing to accept "no" as an answer.

As we chatted in my office that day, I was impressed with the manner of professionalism and the level of maturity she possessed at such a young age. Rachael had just graduated from high school a mere month before, yet she knew with great certainty what her future goals were, and running the Iditarod was at the top of that list.

I was thrilled for her when the ITC officials agreed to let her run the race, although she had to alter her initial plan by having her visual interpreter travel the trail with another sled team instead of the snowmachine she had originally proposed.

Throughout the course of this year's race, I checked her progress several times each day on Iditarod's Web site. While I still rooted, as usual, for my favorite Valley teams, including DeeDee Jonrowe (who I know will win one day) and Martin Buser, Rachael had earned a place in my heart as a sentimental favorite to finish. She had no illusions of winning the race; her goal was simply to finish.

When news broke that Rachael had scratched from the race, citing health concerns of her dog team, my heart went out to her. I can only imagine the disappointment she felt in making that decision, but something tells me Alaska, and the Iditarod, haven't heard the last of Rachael Scdoris.

It takes a special athlete, human and canine, to brave the elements of this uniquely Alaskan race. I commend all the teams who faced the many challenges the Iditarod serves up; they are exceptional competitors and members of an elite group that have the courage to follow their dreams.