The first musher was due to arrive between 9 and 10 a.m. on March 15th, so we dressed in our Arctic best and made our way from the apartment to Front Street. We had our pick of where we wanted to stand to await the arrival of John Baker and his team. As I previously mentioned, we were all crowded together on Front Street in Nome at the end of the fenced Burled Arch, which is the official finish line for the Iditarod Trail Dog Sled Race.
One of the fans was the daughter from Flying Wild Alaska, a current television series.
We were stretching our necks to see what was coming up the street. An hour and a half ago, I believed my view of the Burled Arch was perfect, however, there were family members, sponsors and Iditarod Committee 'officials' who had crowded the area so we could not see any action under the Arch. When the traditional siren sounded, this was the signal that the musher is one mile out of town. Everyone on Front Street began cheering and the anticipation was at a fever pitch.
The only thing I could see was the backs of furry hats, coats, snow pants and boots! The view of the winner under the Arch was completely blocked!
Then, when one of the Native dancers moved to to the left of my view, I could see the flashing lights of the police cars about one quarter of a mile away. I turned on my video camera and could just barely make out the bobbing head of a dog running with all his might on the south side of the street. He was not interested, apparently, in staying on the snow-packed trail that had been so diligently prepared in the middle of the street as he led his team to the finish line. I began bawling like a baby and later realized I was saying, "Come on, baby. Come on, you're almost there!"
When John arrived, he got off his sled and made his rounds on both sides of the fence to thank his fans for being present.
Jackie got a 'high five' from him! Kim was able to get perfect pictures of the team as they arrived so she saved my day! Here they are---------------
This multi-colored perfect athletes, just ran the race of their lives! He was going to win the 39th Iditarod Trail Dog Sled Race by leading the remaining members of his team and his proud musher to the Burled Arch.
As the team got closer, the lead dog finally ascended the snow trail and entered the fenced area passing all the fans who had been waiting for over an hour to welcome the winner!
John Baker from Kotzebue, a small village north of Nome, finally fulfilled a dream. He has been after this win for several years. The team came to a stop right in front of where I was standing but the welcoming committee surrounded John and the veterinarians began the process of checking the dogs while the race marshall checked John's sled to verify he had all the required items. He did. His time for winning the race was 8 days, 49 minutes and 18 seconds which is a race record. The entire process of arriving, going through the mandatory checks, receiving his winner's purse of $50,400.00 and the 2011 Dodge Ram truck, and then giving his speech, took about one half hour.
While John was kept busy with the mandatory arrival details, the dogs were being snacked, the booties were removed and they began to relax and rest. Not one single dog was panting when they stopped. Not one. This evidence assured me that these dogs were well trained and had the endurance of a healthy athlete. They lolled around in the snow; they slowly licked their paws, they nuzzled each other, and they reveled in the hugs and pets from John and his handlers. They looked great!
Then John mounted his sled one more time and the dogs were led by handlers to the dog lot where other volunteers were stationed to guard the animals. The dogs would remain in the lot until such time that it was time for them to go home. At the dog lot, each dog had his own house or crate, plenty of fresh straw, plenty of new food and glorious sunshine in which to bask. They thoroughly enjoyed the vacay!
To think that we last saw these same dogs eight days ago leading their team and John Baker across Willow Lake and right past me as he ran up onto the trail for the 1,049 mile race to Nome, was almost unfathomable. But it was true. Here is what they looked like.
It was time for another food break so we went back to the Husky Restaurant and ate the best burgers ever.
When it was time, we went back to the viewing area to wait for Ramey. This time, I did not stand at the end. I was probably more thrilled seeing Ramey arrive since I could actually see him, but this time the emotions were well contained. This time I was overwhelmed because he ran with the dogs rather than have them pull him under the arch! This always lightens the load. His face beamed and his while snow pants looked as if he had been on the trail for eight days. His arrival time was also faster than the old record!
The team quickly turned to resting mode and patiently waited for their master to be welcomed and then to give his speech to the awaiting fans.
We then headed over to the visitor center to catch our ride to Safety. We were met by Lauren from Bering Air.
She escorted us out the back onto the frozen sea ice, down the hill of ice and snow that I mentioned earlier, and we had to jump across a crevasse of ice to get to the landing pad.
The landing pad was where ever the pilot decided to put it down.
We climbed aboard the helicopter, buckled in, adjusted our headphones and microphones and took off. Kim asked the pilot if he would please turn off my mike!
As we went airborne, we had a magnificent view of Nome,
the Bering Sea on the right,
the Sawtoothe Mountains to the left,
and ahead of us and miles and miles of white snow. It was gorgeous! The pilot, Russell, was an absolute doll and his family owns Bering Air.
Normally, he does not fly tourists in the winter, however, this is Iditarod! We were going to Safety, the last checkpoint of the race, and an actual village, of sorts. Safety is basically a bar that is open only during the summer. But, again, this is Iditarod!
As we took to the air, Russell pointed out the frozen ice area which is safe for walking and snowmobiling, as well as the broken ice, which is not safe. The broken ice stretched for 200 to 300 miles out into the sea! We flew just off shore. Directly below us, he pointed out the seals basking in the sun and the lobster pots which were placed by the residents of Nome.
Then we saw a strip of small summer fishing cabins whihch were built along the coast. Some of the cabins appeared to be occupied. They looked so tiny but they were perfunctory even tough they were without electricity or running water.
Then Russell pointed out in the distance a musher and his dogs. It was Hans Gatt who was stopped and changing the booties on his dogs. He was halfway between Safety and Nome, a total distance of 22 miles. Hans would be the third place finisher of this year's race.
We arrived at Safety and went inside this one-of-a-kind roadhouse. It is a rustic log cabin which was approximately 20' x 20' with a couple of small ante rooms.
The bar was u-shaped and well-stocked. Our pilot was the first to be served - it was a root beer (we checked!). Every single inch of space inside the road-house was covered with pictures and dollar bills.
We each signed and posted our dollar, then gave Tom, the bar keep our order. He is a Native character who never meets a stranger and we felt honored, of sorts, to be in his presence. He has been the bar keep for the past 20 years. No one has a drink at Safety unless it is served by Tom! He and Jackie became fast friends very quickly. He made a date for lunch with Kim when he next travels to Anchorage. She has to buy!
The temporary staff included a veterinarian from Minnesota and two volunteers. They will be staying at the roadhouse for the duration of the race. There were several other patrons who had snowmobiled out from Nome just to have a drink with Tom and hopefully see some mushers come through.
I could not help but notice that the vet kept looking out the east window with the binoculars. I looked and saw nothing. Just how interested could one be in 'nothing'? The male volunteer sat at a laptop while the female volunteer kept walking outside then was coming back in. We had been at the road house for about a half hour when Russell let us know it was time to head back to Nome. Then we got the word: Musher coming!
It was the fourth place musher, Dallas Seavey. Dallas is the 26-year old son of veteran musher Mitch Seavey, who was withdrawn from this year's race due to the near-severing of his left index finger. He was now in Nome after having had surgery in Anchorage. Such dedication!
Now I understood why Dr. Vet kept looking out the window with the binochs - he was watching for the next team to arrive! So we all ran out to welcome Dallas. I couldn't see a thing. Then as I strained for something to loom up over a hill, I saw the small dark movement about a mile away. It was the team running with no buildings in sight. Just what I wanted to see! Of course, Jenny was ready this time and had the video aimed and cocked. Here he comes!
Dallas' stop was all business and lasted for maybe three minutes. He was anxious to get on with the last miles of the race.
Depending on his speed at this point in the race, his arrival in Nome would be 2-1/2 to 3 hours away. He is assured of fourth place because there was no other team close enough to pass him. In fact, he will most likely snack the dogs one more time depending on when the last rest stop was. He was ready to move on and did not stop to chit-chat with the fans (all seven of us) and no one attempted to interrupt his focus. These mushers are well-respected for their ability to maintain strategy all the way to the finish line. It was good to see that the dogs, again, were not panting and they had no desire to stop and rest. They were on a mission and they know that mission had yet to be completed! But they were beautiful animals.
We thanked Russell for giving us the extra time to see the team arrive and leave the checkpoint. Then it was time for us to buckle up, lift off, and head back to Nome.
This little trip was just as informative as the trip out. Russell pointed out an old part of the Iditarod trail that ran around Cape Nome along the coast. Due to the perilous conditions of this part of the trail, it now runs inland around this small mountain. 
It is the last incline for the dogs and then the last of the trail was fairly flat.
We passed Dallas and Russell flew a circle overhead for our Kodak moment. He was cautious not to fly too low in order to avoid distracting the dogs.
Due to our pilot's sharp eye sight, we were treated to a stage show. One of the little fishing cabins that we previously passed appeared to be inhabited. There were three snowmobiles parked outside the cabin, smoke billowed from the chimney, and three bare butts that were mooning us from the porch in broad daylight. They appeared to be Native because none were tattooed!
This is a rock quarry that is not worked during the winter.
When we returned to Nome, Russell set the chopper down on the other side of the ice hill and crevasse and I was truly grateful. I just was not happy with the thought that life could be so good and I would not make it home to finish this blog if I slipped into the world of the seals through that break in that snow and ice. Yes, life is good!
We were able to see Hans Gatt arrive at the Burled Arch with his fine-looking team.
After his ceremonial welcome, he spent considerable time hugging and petting his faithful team - each and every member.
The handlers removed the dogs' booties and tossed them into the crowd.
They were then escorted to the dog lot. After Hans' arrival we walked back through one of the stores and observed that the town was thinning out again.
We then saw four male snowmobilers who had parked their sleds under the burled arch being photographed. They were the official trail breakers of the Iditarod Trail! Naturally, we also took their pictures.
It was time for us to being thinking about packing our suitcases and saying good-buy to Nome for this year. But first, we decided to walk down to the dog lot to see the accommodations for the trail weary dogs. They looked great!
The lots is barricaded to keep the public out. Only the dog lot volunteers were allowed though the hallowed halls, along with handlers and the mushers. There were a few people tending to the dogs then conferring over the clipboards. When one of these people turned around, I recognized Hans Gatt. He looked right at me and I congratulated him. Great eye contact and he was truly thankful for the comment. He was also tired. I looked right at him and told him I would like to buy him steak dinner. His response? "I would love it." I don't know what the committee has in store for me. But he was required to go to the headquarters where volunteers were still manning the 'gift store' and where the reports of the trail continued to come in over the phones and computers.
I was so impressed that the musher personally made sure his dogs were settled in before seeing to his own needs. This, however, is not only an Iditarod Trail Committee rule, but consideration for the Humanitarian Award which is given to one musher at the end of the race. Without this kind of attention, appreciation of the animals and dedication, these mushers would not be arriving in Nome in the great condition that they arrived.
 |
| A Native Alaskan waiting for John Baker. |
One of the fans was the daughter from Flying Wild Alaska, a current television series.
We were stretching our necks to see what was coming up the street. An hour and a half ago, I believed my view of the Burled Arch was perfect, however, there were family members, sponsors and Iditarod Committee 'officials' who had crowded the area so we could not see any action under the Arch. When the traditional siren sounded, this was the signal that the musher is one mile out of town. Everyone on Front Street began cheering and the anticipation was at a fever pitch.
Then, when one of the Native dancers moved to to the left of my view, I could see the flashing lights of the police cars about one quarter of a mile away. I turned on my video camera and could just barely make out the bobbing head of a dog running with all his might on the south side of the street. He was not interested, apparently, in staying on the snow-packed trail that had been so diligently prepared in the middle of the street as he led his team to the finish line. I began bawling like a baby and later realized I was saying, "Come on, baby. Come on, you're almost there!"
 |
| You can see the lights of the police care. The dogs are to the right of the lights, believe it or not! |
This multi-colored perfect athletes, just ran the race of their lives! He was going to win the 39th Iditarod Trail Dog Sled Race by leading the remaining members of his team and his proud musher to the Burled Arch.
As the team got closer, the lead dog finally ascended the snow trail and entered the fenced area passing all the fans who had been waiting for over an hour to welcome the winner!
While John was kept busy with the mandatory arrival details, the dogs were being snacked, the booties were removed and they began to relax and rest. Not one single dog was panting when they stopped. Not one. This evidence assured me that these dogs were well trained and had the endurance of a healthy athlete. They lolled around in the snow; they slowly licked their paws, they nuzzled each other, and they reveled in the hugs and pets from John and his handlers. They looked great!
To think that we last saw these same dogs eight days ago leading their team and John Baker across Willow Lake and right past me as he ran up onto the trail for the 1,049 mile race to Nome, was almost unfathomable. But it was true. Here is what they looked like.
 |
| This is John Baker and his team after starting the race eight days ago in Willow, Alaska. Below is John as he passed Kim and Jackie as he is leaving Willow Lake and approaching the trail. |
 |
| This is John and his team having crossed Willow Lake and passing me at the beginning of the trail with 1,049 miles to go. |
We knew the next musher, Ramey Smith, was not due for at least another hour. I regretfully did not insert toe warmers in my mukluks that morning, nor did I grab any hand warmers for my mitts. I underestimated the sting of the cold while standing stationary for 1-1/2 hours. The person next to me gave me some hand warmers so that I would not loose my place. But after all the excitement was over, I found Kim and Jackie, and got some more hand warmers. Before going into the little grocery store to put in the toe warmers, they filled me in on what actually happened at the finish line.
It was time for another food break so we went back to the Husky Restaurant and ate the best burgers ever.
When it was time, we went back to the viewing area to wait for Ramey. This time, I did not stand at the end. I was probably more thrilled seeing Ramey arrive since I could actually see him, but this time the emotions were well contained. This time I was overwhelmed because he ran with the dogs rather than have them pull him under the arch! This always lightens the load. His face beamed and his while snow pants looked as if he had been on the trail for eight days. His arrival time was also faster than the old record!
After the ceremonial welcome, this second place team was also escorted to the dog lot and Ramey was able to eat a hot meal at the headquarters.
We then headed over to the visitor center to catch our ride to Safety. We were met by Lauren from Bering Air.
the Bering Sea on the right,
the Sawtoothe Mountains to the left,
Normally, he does not fly tourists in the winter, however, this is Iditarod! We were going to Safety, the last checkpoint of the race, and an actual village, of sorts. Safety is basically a bar that is open only during the summer. But, again, this is Iditarod!
As we took to the air, Russell pointed out the frozen ice area which is safe for walking and snowmobiling, as well as the broken ice, which is not safe. The broken ice stretched for 200 to 300 miles out into the sea! We flew just off shore. Directly below us, he pointed out the seals basking in the sun and the lobster pots which were placed by the residents of Nome.
Then we saw a strip of small summer fishing cabins whihch were built along the coast. Some of the cabins appeared to be occupied. They looked so tiny but they were perfunctory even tough they were without electricity or running water.
We arrived at Safety and went inside this one-of-a-kind roadhouse. It is a rustic log cabin which was approximately 20' x 20' with a couple of small ante rooms.
The temporary staff included a veterinarian from Minnesota and two volunteers. They will be staying at the roadhouse for the duration of the race. There were several other patrons who had snowmobiled out from Nome just to have a drink with Tom and hopefully see some mushers come through.
I could not help but notice that the vet kept looking out the east window with the binoculars. I looked and saw nothing. Just how interested could one be in 'nothing'? The male volunteer sat at a laptop while the female volunteer kept walking outside then was coming back in. We had been at the road house for about a half hour when Russell let us know it was time to head back to Nome. Then we got the word: Musher coming!
It was the fourth place musher, Dallas Seavey. Dallas is the 26-year old son of veteran musher Mitch Seavey, who was withdrawn from this year's race due to the near-severing of his left index finger. He was now in Nome after having had surgery in Anchorage. Such dedication!
Now I understood why Dr. Vet kept looking out the window with the binochs - he was watching for the next team to arrive! So we all ran out to welcome Dallas. I couldn't see a thing. Then as I strained for something to loom up over a hill, I saw the small dark movement about a mile away. It was the team running with no buildings in sight. Just what I wanted to see! Of course, Jenny was ready this time and had the video aimed and cocked. Here he comes!
 |
| Dallas Seavey and his team approaching Safety, the twenty-second and last check point of the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race. Twenty-Two miles to go to Nome and the finish line! |
 |
| Dallas' dogs arriving at Safety. |
 |
| This is Dallas' lead dog. He is alert and ready to finish the race. None of the dogs were panting as they arrived at the checkpoint. |
 |
| Dallas Seavy having completed his quick checkpoint at Safety and on to Nome - in fourth place! |
It is the last incline for the dogs and then the last of the trail was fairly flat.
We passed Dallas and Russell flew a circle overhead for our Kodak moment. He was cautious not to fly too low in order to avoid distracting the dogs.
 |
| This is one of my favorite pictures of our entire trip. |
 |
| Notice the satellite dish on the roof of the cabin. |
When we returned to Nome, Russell set the chopper down on the other side of the ice hill and crevasse and I was truly grateful. I just was not happy with the thought that life could be so good and I would not make it home to finish this blog if I slipped into the world of the seals through that break in that snow and ice. Yes, life is good!
We were able to see Hans Gatt arrive at the Burled Arch with his fine-looking team.
They were then escorted to the dog lot. After Hans' arrival we walked back through one of the stores and observed that the town was thinning out again.
We then saw four male snowmobilers who had parked their sleds under the burled arch being photographed. They were the official trail breakers of the Iditarod Trail! Naturally, we also took their pictures.
It was time for us to being thinking about packing our suitcases and saying good-buy to Nome for this year. But first, we decided to walk down to the dog lot to see the accommodations for the trail weary dogs. They looked great!
I was so impressed that the musher personally made sure his dogs were settled in before seeing to his own needs. This, however, is not only an Iditarod Trail Committee rule, but consideration for the Humanitarian Award which is given to one musher at the end of the race. Without this kind of attention, appreciation of the animals and dedication, these mushers would not be arriving in Nome in the great condition that they arrived.
What a great day this was!
