Two weeks translates to time on Iditarod trail

Jeff Wells

Published Saturday, February 24, 2007

Two weeks. It's how often most Americans receive a pay check. It's how often I wash my bed sheets. It's half the length of a moon cycle. It's how often I should call my family. It's how much vacation time most Americans receive each year.

And it's the amount of time I plan to take to run 1,049 miles by dogsled across the state of Alaska, beginning March 4.

Actually, I plan on taking less than two weeks. If all goes as planned, I will pull into Nome 12 to 13 days after I start. Am I ready? Are the dogs ready?

Some might think what I need at this point is a good friend to look me in the eye and ask: “What are you doing, Jeff?”

But no friend of mine would do such a thing; they know it is of no use. I am as ready for the Iditarod as the world was for sliced bread, and there is no turning me back.

Earlier this week, I sent out 1,500 pounds of dog food, frozen meat, booties, personal food, extra clothes and spare sled parts to the 25 checkpoints along the trail.

It's like packing your suitcase with everything you will need for the next two weeks, except in this case I am packing for 17 of us.

I sent out 1,500 pounds. There are 80-plus other mushers that did the exact same. That equates to more than 50 tons of supplies for the mushers that needs to be flown out to the checkpoints.

If a jumbo-jet could be chartered for the job, life for the Iditarod committee would be pretty slick. But no can do; these supplies, for the most part, are flown out in small four-seater bush planes, one load at a time. The logistics of this race are mind boggling. Luckily, I only have to think about myself and my 16 companions.

As far as my furry athletes, I can only guess what they are thinking as time draws near to the start date.

I can tell you this, though, it's not about the Iditarod. They don't have a clue of what's to come. It's like a 5-year-old going to kindergarten for the first time. They don't have a concept of what's coming until they do it.

It's my job to make sure all 16 have a good time during their first experience. Physically, these dogs are like a fine-tuned machine. Together, we have logged more than 2,100 training miles since September. Forty miles used to tire them out; now it's just warms them up.

For the young dogs I will have in my team, it will be more of a mental than physical challenge.

Unlike the dogs, I know what's to come. And it's odd, maybe ironic, to think that here I am: 11:32 p.m. on Feb. 19. 21 years old, and my lifelong dream is about to hit reality. That leaves me speechless, and it really won't strike me until we reach the starting line.

I, along with the other mushers who signed up for the 2007 Iditarod, will leave Wasilla (the true starting line) for Nome on March 4.

Likely, many of you will not be able to join me on the trail (nor would most of you want to). Instead, if so inclined, you can follow the race from your armchair via Iditarod.com and cabelasiditarod.com.

At this point next month, I will hopefully have stories of triumph to share. Until then, only 1,049 miles left to go.

Jeff Wells is living in Denali Park, Alaska and is training a team of dogs for the 2007 Iditarod. He is writing monthly article for The Daily Journal and can be reached at fsjjw15@uaf.edu. His blog is http://wellsiditarod2007.blogspot.com.

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