I'm In!

Alaska Day 2
Friday morning I was up and back to the airport to pick up my rental car. The airport’s only 10 minutes away, so before I was fully awake I was behind the wheel of my new Nissan Murano sliding through intersections and trying not to cause to much damage.

First stop was the Millennium Hotel, the headquarters for the Iditarod. I walked into the lobby and was immediately in a throng of activity. There were people and bags everywhere. Boxes of supplies waiting to be taken out on the trail, a make shift gift shop, huge moose heads and stuffed polar bears everywhere. I found the Big Board they had up from last year, showing all the mushers and their respective times at each of the checkpoints along the 1100 mile trail. There was also a giant map of the entire race coarse. This was definitely Iditarod Central.

I wandered around the lobby trying to look as if I fit in. This place was buzzing with the race. It was so cool. I wandered down some of the hallways, the race had taken over a bunch of the rooms. Doors were swung open with signs announcing “Comms Center,” “Phone Room,” “Dropped Dogs.” There were banks of computers, telephones, coordinators. Hotel rooms converted into production offices, it was just like being on location for a film. I was looking for signs for volunteers. I still had hopes of talking my way in to volunteering for this spectacle if I could, but I couldn’t seem to find the right people.

Upstairs and there was even more activity. The third floor meeting rooms had all been taken over by race committees. There was a breakfast just ending for school teachers who design curriculums around the race. A communications meeting was also finishing up. I saw a notice that Gary Paulson was speaking later in the morning. He’s the author of Winterdance, the book I read last summer in London (see this blog August '05), one of many that has tipped the scales for me to be here in Anchorage. I bought myself a ticket for that, then mingled around taking pictures and once again trying to look like I belonged.

I was trying to get my bearings, I hadn’t seen any sign of volunteers, and my first impression was that they’ve got it covered. Everyone seemed to have a job. This machine was well under way, and the last thing I wanted was to get in it’s way.

Waiting outside the banquet room before the talk I met a woman who was also there to hear Paulson. She asked if I was a teacher, I said no and she looked at me as if to say, “then why on earth are you here?” We filed in to the room, and I was immediately surrounded my hundreds of teachers. This was strange. Was I in the wrong place? Is there another Gary Paulson who’s some inspirational instructor? Finally I saw someone carrying a copy of his book Winterdance, so I knew there was at least one other person as confused as me. Luckily the couple I sat next to were, like me, non-teachers, and I finally figured out that Paulson’s talk was part of a four-day teachers workshop that coincided with the Iditarod. I guess he’s written a ton of books on all different subjects that are read widely by elementary school kids. Things were beginning to make sense.

Needless to say, his talk was awesome. He described his journey since the end of Winterdance, and what lead him back to dog mushing after nine years of sailing around the Pacific. He’s a great speaker, and his love of dogs is infectious. He told stories of how they’ve saved his life more than once out there on the trail, and the primal connection he feels when it’s just him and his team miles from nowhere.

Afterwards he signed copies of his books in the lobby for the eager crowds. There was another talk scheduled two hours later, this time with former Iditarod champion Mitch Seavey. I thought maybe I’d come back for that, but for now it was time for lunch. I left the hotel (the restaurant there was too fancy for me), and headed back into town. While away form the hotel I thought I’d also stop into the Alaska Native Medical Center. I’d read about this place to find authentic Eskimo arts and crafts. I guess people from native villages bring in crafts to sell when visiting relatives. This sounded more interesting than the gift shops downtown, so off I went to the hospital.

So, that’s me. Who needs tourist sites when you’ve got the cemetery and the hospital to go to? It was a little strange walking in to the medical center being the only white guy around, plus, it’s a hospital, so no one’s having a very good time. But I found the small shop packed with sculptures, jewelry, masks and dolls, all made from wood, bone and fur, and I came away with a couple small bowls made from birch bark.

Back at the Millennium Hotel I got my ticket to hear Mitch Seavey speak. He was great as well. He talked about the romantic spark that got him into mushing, and the mythic nature of Alaska. He also spoke about his philosophy of raising and training sled dogs, and how it’s a natural thing for these dogs to run over huge distances. He says the only organism on the planet that nothing is expected of is a pet dog or cat. It’s just not natural to spoil animals in this way.

When his talk ended it was mid afternoon, and I was wondering what to do next. It had already been a very full day, but it was only 2pm. I walked downstairs and there was a large group of people gathered in the lobby. I glommed on to these folks to see what was going on. It turns out these were the volunteer dog handlers, and they were being instructed on what they were going to be doing at the race start in the morning. I hovered in the background for a while, but saw that they each had official badges, and email lists with names meticulously checked off. They were obviously the “in crowd”, and I was most definitely on the outside. I started to leave, but after a few steps stopped myself. If I left the hotel lobby now, in the morning I’d just be a spectator. I’d be in the crowd with all the other cheering fans, and it would be great, but these volunteers would be on the other side of the barrier. They’d be the ones closest to the dogs. They’d be participating. I’d come all this way to get close to the race, and it seemed like a pretty huge opportunity that I’d just bumped into this group.

I walked up to one of the leaders at the back of the group and said, “I’m not on any of your lists, but could you use and extra set of hands tomorrow?” He looked me up and down, and saw that I had descent snow boots on. His assistant noted that I had long legs and could probably run. He asked if I could go to the re-start on Sunday, because that’s where they would be needing extra handlers. I was planning on going there anyway and told him that I had my own car. He took my name and info, and said to stay with this group. From then on I was in!

We were lead outside to the parking lot where a team of very tame dogs was being harnessed up. We took it in turns to hold the guide line while running next to the team as it made its way around the lot, careful not to step on any paws with our massive snow boots. We practiced falling and rolling out of the way – something that would come in very handy later, and were told that at the race start communication was all about hand signals because the barking of the dogs would be deafening.

After an hour or so of this we were issued cards that certified that we’d been officially trained as dog handlers. My name was now on the list, and I was handed my card! We were told to meet at the corner of 4th and D at 7:30 in the morning and be ready to work. And that was it. I was officially in! A volunteer at the 2006 Iditarod Dog Sled Race! I walked back to my car completely high.

I wandered around town in a bit of a daze after all the excitement. I found a giant Barnes and Noble where I spent some time. A B&N is a B&N, after all, and once I came to my senses I got out of there and headed to local favorite Title Wave Books which had much more personality (and a better Alaska selection, which stretched for 6 isles!). I picked up a couple things and settled into the coffee shop to write post cards and recover from this day.

Dinner was a pizza to go that I took back to my hotel room. There’s a cool dinner/cinema place that looked tempting, but they weren’t showing anything I needed to see, besides, I had to pack up and check out of my room first thing in the morning. Saturday evening I would be driving north to Wasilla and another hotel closer to the re-start for Sunday. I had to get some rest, tomorrow was going to be a Big Day.


Today, I volunteered. Tomorrow, the race begins!

Check out more photos here!