Teams, strategies and the trail ahead

The Iditarod's Sunday restart in Willow is one of those heavy-crowd events that gives a mandatory fix for the truly addicted fan. To really get prepared, my group decided to leave the house at 8 a.m. and arrive at the staging area at 10 a.m., a full four hours before the official start at 2 p.m. Realistically, that's the only way to beat the crowd and get a parking spot within walking distance of the start chute and the musher parking area. Otherwise you will be amongst, literally, the tens of thousands parked remotely who have to shuttle to the start area on buses.

Once arrived at the start area, I used further leverage to gain entrance to the heavily secured "musher parking area." Luckily, I had my press pass to wave at security. You could also get access with a VIP pass, a little harder to get, or a "handler" pass obtained from a musher.

Once inside, I made a little tour of the area, trying to visit as many of the 71 mushers as possible to get the flavor of this year's race. Basically, the mushers were pondering the given limitations of the trail. Reports indicate little snow in certain areas climbing up the south shoulder of the Alaska Range, and a section of trail on the south side of the Alaska Range though the Dalzell Gorge and beyond into the notorious Buffalo Tunnels could be bare ground. That means mushers with exuberant, fast-moving teams are at risk of a really good wreck -- slamming into a tree, breaking runners on frozen ground, and bouncing out of control on glare ice.

Therefore, the mushers who had trained teams at longer distances were confident because they theorize their dogs are more methodical and slower. At a trot, they figured they could negotiate the bad trail safely. One of these guys, Sebastian Schnuelle, came in second last year behind Lance Mackey. Interestingly, he told me his team is composed largely of seven to nine year old dogs -- which is pretty senior in the sled dog world. To keep these dogs injury free, he had trained them at a slower pace this winter. On the flip side, that meant they could also travel for hours with little stress. So, that's one strategy. Sebastian and his team could very easily travel through the afternoon and evening for twelve hours at a steady pace.

One of the top favorites this year is the Canadian musher Hans Gatt. Winner of the 2010 Yukon Quest, he told me that his team is so trail-hardened that he could talk his dogs down into an easy trot.

Not far from Gatt, four-time Iditarod Champion Jeff King was stringing out his team of sixteen dogs. He is a top ten favorite and I could see why. His team was attracting attention from many insiders. His 50- to 60-pound huskies had that shimmering sheen in the afternoon sun that indicated perfect conditioning. King is known for innovations. Trailing his main sled was a smaller caboose sled, complete with room for gear and an air kennel available for a rider -- maybe a leader he wanted to rest until evening.

Lance Mackey, the three-time Iditarod champ starting in position 49, was not hard to find. I just looked for the mob of fans who support him. I worked with Lance all winter helping him write his recently released book, "The Lance Mackey Story," so I admit a certain admiration for the cancer survivor and ultimate trainer and musher. He admitted that he had not slept well the last three nights. Still, he was animated and ceaselessly posed for photos and signed autographs for his fans. I mentioned that the field was deep with talent. He looked over his dogs and told me how pleased he was with the conditioning of the team. "The dogs' feet are just perfect," he offered, explaining that the pads and soft tissue between the toes were not bothered by long training miles. Although he boots the dogs on almost every occassion, it also means he can take the boots off in the bare ground areas and not worry about abrasions on the pads. Importantly, he told me, "You have to race with the right reasons."