The temperature stood at 15 degrees shortly after sunrise on Saturday as the daring did their stretches in front of the Egan Center at the start of the Frostbite Footrace and Costume Fun Run.
Organizers estimated the number of entrants as “600-ish,” which may have been more than the spectators lining Fifth Avenue.
“There’s really no point in winning this race,” said announcer Cary Carrigan.
The point for most seemed to be the costumes. Runners dressed as bugs, bunnies, ravens, judges, pigs (in a blanket) and lucha libre wrestlers. Carrigan teased them as they passed by.
“If you guys went over to Fourth Avenue, you could make some serious money,” he said to a quartet of men dressed as female fans of golfer Tiger Woods.
Several runners wore hula skirts. One of them had a beard — architect Mike Mense. “I’ve been running all winter,” he said. “This seemed like a good chance to get out and keep running.”
There were more people on hand for the Grand Parade. “Grand” may be a stretch. The 9th Army Arctic Warrior Band was the sole live music element. With the exception of Liberty Tax Service’s inflatable Statue of Liberty, so big it had to be pulled over to pass under the Fifth Avenue Skybridge, the smattering of floats looked primitive compared to what we’ve seen in years past. Of course, just getting a rig decorated and rolling down the street in Alaska’s winter takes some effort.
What the parade had was a lot of vehicles, lovingly restored military transports, some three-wheel motorcycles, Shriners, the Keystone Kops, horses and an anti-climactic lineup of vehicles from radio stations, presumably with air personalities inside.
Also, a lot of beauty queens, including two Mrs. Alaskas and one Miss Tudor Road Bingo. These smiling lovelies, bravely smiling in the frosty air, were something of a high point in their tiaras and fabulous furs. Miss Fur Rondy, Jessica Kazmierczak, came by in a horse-drawn carriage shaped like a see-through pumpkin.
Cordova’s Miss Ice Worm, Nicole Peterson, also made a splash in that she was followed by a rare Anchorage appearance of the Ice Worm itself, about 100 feet long with who knows how many legs.
Another item that drew a lot of oohs was a giant Tyrannosaurus Rex skeleton that marched ahead of the float for the Miner’s and Trapper’s Ball.
A sad observation for curmudgeonly traditionalists like me: Most men did not remove their fur or knit hats as the color guard passed — almost as if they were afraid to feel a breeze on their scalps.
By now it was time for the start of the World Championship Sled Dog Races. But some 200 people and I were more interested in seeing the muscle dogs at the weight pull down along Ship Creek, near the Snow Sculptures, which were still under construction. You gotta love a 40-pound Australian shepherd that manages to drag a 470-pound sled across a track of “tacky” snow.
Sitting on the metal benches, however, eventually became uncomfortable, even with three layers between me and the metal. One viewer had cleverly roped a pad of foam to his backside.
The temperature remained below 20 and chill began to seep through boots and socks that would have been warm had I been moving.
So I started moving, first by catching the free BP shuttle bus that runs a circuit between Sixth Avenue and Ship Creek every 20 minutes. This is particularly convenient for those who want to park near the snow sculptures, where there was plenty of room on Saturday.
Strolling back through the events I found the fabled fur of the Rondy. Wolverine and wolf hides were being sold at Fourth and E for just over $500. But at the Alaska Trappers Association Fur Auction at Rondy Central — Third and E, by the carnival rides — I watched wolf hides go for $300.
“This is a good looking crowd,” said the auctioneer to the hundred or so parka-clad and trapper-hatted bidders. “You all have your furs on.”
If it’s cold again today, the Fourth Avenue Market Place, is a handy spot to warm up while watching the sled dogs. It’s full of craft tables selling such things as jewelry, jam, clothing and more.
Final note: The Pioneer Pancake Breakfast is upstairs at Sixth and F. Some people missed the signs. It’s $6 for three flapjacks, ham, endless coffee and animated conversation.
Find Mike Dunham online at adn.com/contact/mdunham or call 257-4332.
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