ANCHORAGE, ALASKA -- The smell of dog manure hits you as soon as you step on to 4th Avenue. Twelve hours later, the smell will linger in your clothes and your nostrils. The lucky ones will get to experience the scent for the next 10 to 14 or more days on their way to Nome.

The race, the 33rd Iditarod Sled Dog Race, the Last Great Race won't start for another two-hours, but by 8 a.m. the teams have already arrived in the truck or trailer based kennels. The fans and spectators have arrived too. The 1,100-mile race commemorates the 1925 run of diphtheria serum to Nome to prevent an epidemic.

The weather is mild for an Iditarod weekend. The morning temperatures are 29 degrees and will warm up to 40 by mid-afternoon. It's the potential for these warm Anchorage days and the risk of overheated dogs, acclimated to colder interior Alaska temperatures, that caused a 1995 change to make the Anchorage start a ceremonial event rather than a time-critical leg of the race.

Seventy-nine teams of up to 16 dogs per team show up for today's start. An honorary team number one will officially start the race. While Alaska boasts the most entries, Colorado fields two teams: Lachlan Clarke from Buena Vista and Bill Pinkham from Glenwood Springs.

This is 46-year-old Pinkham's third Iditarod. He finished 33rd last year. Most of his training this year has consisted of running his dogs in the hills above Glenwood Springs. The snow has been good this year.

"I feel prepared for the race," Pinkham said. "My biggest challenge has been the drive. We drove it in five and a half days. That's a day longer than last year and we are feeling more rested."

Wearing bib number 80, Pinkham is the last musher to start. He wanted it that way. It's a good omen. He sees meaning or significance in specific numbers say his crew, but Pinkham doesn't tip his hand as to what they may mean or why.

As for the Buena Vista musher, this is 48-year-old Clarke's second Iditarod. In 2003, his team scratched in Eagle Island. He has learned a lot since then.

"In 2003, my dogs just didn't want to go anymore," Clarke said. "Ends up we only had 22 miles to Kaltag when we turned back to scratch in Eagle Island. The dogs didn't like running on the river. Others said their dogs were a new team once they got off the river. I should have gone on to Kaltag, which was closer, and rested there."

2003 was the year the race was started in Fairbanks due to a severe lack of snow across most of Alaska. Clarke complained of the psychology of racing down a river heading straight as far as the eye can see. He felt some variety in the trail would have helped his own attitude and the spirit of his dogs. He expects to do better this year.

"We ran good in the Yukon Quest 300," Clarke said. "This is only our sixth distance race. We've done some 50 to 60 mile races. The first time you run the Iditarod, you have no idea what to expect. This time we're relaxed and having fun. The dogs are ready."

Back in Colorado, Clarke had to truck his dogs to Turquoise Lake near Leadville to train. He and his wife Linda have been gone for about five weeks running the Quest 300 in the Yukon Territory and training in Chugiak, Knik, and Talkeetna, Alaska with 20 to 40 mile runs. The dogs have about 1,800 miles of training on them.

While Clarke, wearing bib number 63, was a combination of relaxation and jubilance, two-time finisher Pinkham seemed quietly confident.

"Everybody's in good health," Pinkham said. "We've been training in Willow doing three hour runs."

Most of the dogs seem to know what is about to happen. Squatting down nose to nose with them, giving them some attention while they wait their turn to start, they look you in the eye. And you both know that they are in store for a 1,100 mile journey in the wilderness.

Sleeping out in the open air with their musher on a bed of straw whether the snow falls or the aurora dances above. While you have to stay behind in the big city for the insignificant reasons of holding down a job or attending school.

In a little over an hour, each team arrives 11 miles away at the Campbell Airstrip on the east side of Anchorage. The dogs aren't winded by the run and some even seemed put out to have only run such a short distance.

But T.C. Wait, part of Pinkham's crew, who got to ride the back sled on the one-hour trip to the east side of town said it was the time of her life.

"I could write a whole book on what I experienced in that hour," Wait said.

Imagine what she could write if she ran the whole Iditarod.

And if only there was time to write on the trail. 
 

Go to Part 2

Rich Stromberg is the editor and publisher of Rocky Mountain Magazine and is the owner of alaskacolorado.com - a fine art landscape photography business. He is currently pursuing a journalism degree at the University of Alaska Anchorage.

Rich will be tracking the progress of both Colorado mushers and will post daily updates on their progress toward the finish line in Nome.

AVI Videos of the Iditarod

Bill Pinkham does shovel duty while his dog team waits on 4th Avenue. - 15.6 MB

Lachlan Clarke's dogs bark as musher number two, Jessie Royer, moves her team up to the starting line. - 30.2 MB

Bill Pinkham puts booties on his dogs while the race announcer mentions the Colorado Mountain Mushers Association. - 8.5 MB

One of Pinkham's lead dogs talks to another dog. - 4.6 MB

Two of Pinkham's dogs are ready to run. - 3.8 MB

Pinkham's team arrives at the checkpoint for the end of the 11-mile ceremonial run and his crew member T.C. has just had the ride of her life. - 60.6 MB

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