I did the Iditarod

If you’re like me before I moved to Alaska, the word “Iditarod” doesn’t mean a whole lot. It brings a faint recollection that you may have heard it before. “That has to do with dogs…. Right?” So, before I’m asked to delve into A Brief History Of… why don’t you just go here if you’d like some background.

Every year, the Iditarod has a ceremonial start in Anchorage, while the real race begins out of town the next day. And every year, I’ve been invited to see the sled dogs, watch the start, and freeze my butt of in the cold for 3 hours. Hmmm… No thank you. Not exactly my idea of a good time.

And that’s what I told them. Every time.

This year my friend Colleen hasselbacked me into coming to the cabin for the day, having a barbeque, and watching the mushers go by. You see, her husband’s family owns a cabin on a lake, and the Iditarod happens to go across that lake. Now THIS sounded like something I could handle. A cabin, an outhouse, food, fewer crowds…. Except if I’d really known that we were just going to be standing outside freezing our butts off for 3 hours, I might have said “No thank you.”

Thank goodness I didn’t. Because I would have missed out on a really fun day. I didn’t get to hang out in a toasty, warm cabin as originally anticipated. But I got to sit around a bonfire that burned on the (frozen) lake, and I got to witness first-hand and up-close an amazing, Alaskan tradition.

Want to know how the race is going? Check out the website.