When I first told my husband, Ken, that I wanted to volunteer for the Iditarod, his calm response was: "Let me know how breaking that trail works out, okay?" I think he was serious. Did he know something that I didn't?
After applying online in October to be a volunteer for the race, I started getting antsy. What if I'm not chosen? What if my application was lost and sent to Russia or Siberia for the caribou roundup instead? Worse, yet, what if it was never received?
So after settling down somewhat, it was time to at least buy an airline ticket to see Kim and watch the start of the race. I logged onto my Alaska Airlines account and began the search. It really was a no-brainer - pick the non-stop flight that leaves O'Hare at 9:35 a.m. and arrives in Anchorage at 1:00 p.m. Before making all the final selections, however, I called my sister, Jackie, and asked: "Are you serious about going to Anchorage with me for the race?" Her bubbly yet matter-of-fact response was: "Ye-ah!" (She has a well-honed southern accent.) I told her she would have to arrive the day before we leave and she reminded me that she is very flexible. Retired, you see. So I hit 'book it' and we were committed to the trip.
After wishing everyone I know Happy New Year, I realized it was January. Yes, January. This is the month when my application to be a volunteer for the Iditarod Trail Dog Sled Race should be reviewed and a response would be sent by the coordinator or that great dog sled volunteer guru from - up there! Periodically an email arrived from the Iditarod Insider but I wasn't really interested in buying a raffle ticket to win the 2011 Dodge Ram truck, nor was I really interested in anything other than an acceptance.
Finally, the email arrived. It was from one of the committee directors. The author did not waste any time about welcome aboard, or congratuations, but was a few steps beyond that. Rather, the question was: where did I want to volunteer? (Where? What do you mean, where?) I initially thought the answer would be parking cars, sending mailings, doggie detail or the like. But, no. First we had to decide the physical location for our unknown duties. My choices were either Anchorage for the ceremonial start, Willow for the actual start, or Nome, for the finish. Well, that took about two minutes to decide. I called Jackie, filled her in, and she left the decision up to me. As long as we are given a choice, why not really go for it? So I responded to the email: NOME!!
No trees, frozen tundra, small population, limited quarters, icy seascapes and snow, snow and more snow. Oh, and about 40 degrees below zero at times. But, Nome it is!
So I had to make another visit to the Alaskan Airlines site. Thank goodness for frequent flyer miles.
Now we had to give some serious consideration to having the proper clothing. My family has been cross country skiers and snowmobilers since .... well, a few years ago. Having spent several winter vacations in Brainard, Minnesota with friends, we would snowmobile for hours at a time. After a fun day on the highline or being on the frozen lakes, we would end the day with red cheeks and sometimes, numb fingers and toes. But all in the name of fun. So we know how to dress. But this trip would be different. After reading Lisa Frederic's account of her first Iditarod race, Running with Champions, no one should underestimate the power of mother nature in Alaska. That includes me. So after inventorying my gear, I was thrilled to discover I could still wear some of the cold-weather items from .... a few years ago. That would be the hat and scarves. The gloves fit but are not suited for this endeavor. So a shopping trip was in store. It was at this point that I had to give serious consideration to giving up Kohl's for Cabela's.
Ken took me on my first outing. Camouflaged boots suited for 40 below became the newest member of our family. But we just couldn't seem to bond. I sent out a panic message to Kim: "SOS. Need to go to R.E.I. Stop. Need to find cuter boots. Stop. Be sure to buy them one size larger. Stop." She's a very good daughter!
Sadly, or not, the camo boots are no longer a member of this family.
When Kim was home for the holidays, we found a pair of white snow pants. I bought them and modeled them for my husband, Ken. He took one look at them and said: "They'll never find you, you know." Then he went back to reading his paper. But these pants and I have bonded. A jacket has miraculously appeared so I think I'm set with my winter gear for this new adventure.
Then another email arrived from the coordinator that sent me into overdrive.........
After applying online in October to be a volunteer for the race, I started getting antsy. What if I'm not chosen? What if my application was lost and sent to Russia or Siberia for the caribou roundup instead? Worse, yet, what if it was never received?
So after settling down somewhat, it was time to at least buy an airline ticket to see Kim and watch the start of the race. I logged onto my Alaska Airlines account and began the search. It really was a no-brainer - pick the non-stop flight that leaves O'Hare at 9:35 a.m. and arrives in Anchorage at 1:00 p.m. Before making all the final selections, however, I called my sister, Jackie, and asked: "Are you serious about going to Anchorage with me for the race?" Her bubbly yet matter-of-fact response was: "Ye-ah!" (She has a well-honed southern accent.) I told her she would have to arrive the day before we leave and she reminded me that she is very flexible. Retired, you see. So I hit 'book it' and we were committed to the trip.
After wishing everyone I know Happy New Year, I realized it was January. Yes, January. This is the month when my application to be a volunteer for the Iditarod Trail Dog Sled Race should be reviewed and a response would be sent by the coordinator or that great dog sled volunteer guru from - up there! Periodically an email arrived from the Iditarod Insider but I wasn't really interested in buying a raffle ticket to win the 2011 Dodge Ram truck, nor was I really interested in anything other than an acceptance.
Finally, the email arrived. It was from one of the committee directors. The author did not waste any time about welcome aboard, or congratuations, but was a few steps beyond that. Rather, the question was: where did I want to volunteer? (Where? What do you mean, where?) I initially thought the answer would be parking cars, sending mailings, doggie detail or the like. But, no. First we had to decide the physical location for our unknown duties. My choices were either Anchorage for the ceremonial start, Willow for the actual start, or Nome, for the finish. Well, that took about two minutes to decide. I called Jackie, filled her in, and she left the decision up to me. As long as we are given a choice, why not really go for it? So I responded to the email: NOME!!
No trees, frozen tundra, small population, limited quarters, icy seascapes and snow, snow and more snow. Oh, and about 40 degrees below zero at times. But, Nome it is!
So I had to make another visit to the Alaskan Airlines site. Thank goodness for frequent flyer miles.
Now we had to give some serious consideration to having the proper clothing. My family has been cross country skiers and snowmobilers since .... well, a few years ago. Having spent several winter vacations in Brainard, Minnesota with friends, we would snowmobile for hours at a time. After a fun day on the highline or being on the frozen lakes, we would end the day with red cheeks and sometimes, numb fingers and toes. But all in the name of fun. So we know how to dress. But this trip would be different. After reading Lisa Frederic's account of her first Iditarod race, Running with Champions, no one should underestimate the power of mother nature in Alaska. That includes me. So after inventorying my gear, I was thrilled to discover I could still wear some of the cold-weather items from .... a few years ago. That would be the hat and scarves. The gloves fit but are not suited for this endeavor. So a shopping trip was in store. It was at this point that I had to give serious consideration to giving up Kohl's for Cabela's.
Ken took me on my first outing. Camouflaged boots suited for 40 below became the newest member of our family. But we just couldn't seem to bond. I sent out a panic message to Kim: "SOS. Need to go to R.E.I. Stop. Need to find cuter boots. Stop. Be sure to buy them one size larger. Stop." She's a very good daughter!
 |
| These are the boots Kim bought for me at R.E.I. in Anchorage. They are Sorrells' and much much cuter than those camo things! They better be warm! |
Sadly, or not, the camo boots are no longer a member of this family.
When Kim was home for the holidays, we found a pair of white snow pants. I bought them and modeled them for my husband, Ken. He took one look at them and said: "They'll never find you, you know." Then he went back to reading his paper. But these pants and I have bonded. A jacket has miraculously appeared so I think I'm set with my winter gear for this new adventure.
Then another email arrived from the coordinator that sent me into overdrive.........
No comments:
Post a Comment