Friday, March 6, 1998
Copyright 1998 Anchorage Daily News
Kotzebue musher always finds time for kids
By Doug O'Harra
Daily News Reporter
"Why bother running a team of huskies when you can fire up a snow machine?"
That may be one of the most fundamental questions for the sport of dog mushing. But when Kotzebue musher John Baker put it to about 40 fifth-graders in Cindy Perry's class at Sand Lake Elementary, he got a pragmatic, Alaska-style answer.
"They won't run out of gas," the class chimed.
"That's a good reason," Baker replied, a smile playing across the wind-burned face of one of the most promising mushers in this year's Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race. "But no one ever guesses my favorite reason. Can you guess?"
You can go anywhere you want? the kids guessed. The dogs won't break down? Less work?
"How many people do you think will ever make friends with a snow machine?" Baker answered, bringing laughter. "When we go all the way across Alaska, you may think we're alone. But we have our friends out there with us."
In the weeks before he makes his third foray down the 1,100-mile trail to Nome, Baker has been talking to scores of schoolchildren about dog mushing -- and about pursuing their dreams on the trails of life.
In Kotzebue, Baker visited every classroom, passing out cards that read "I dream, I try, I win." In Anchorage, he visited Sand Lake, and planned to visit other schools in the Mat-Su valleys before the race began.
"It took a long time for me, until I was 35 years old or so, until I realized if I wanted to have a dream, all I had to do was work hard," he told the kids. "Enjoy your dreams, work hard -- and you'll win."
That's exactly what Baker intends to do on the 26th Iditarod.
"I've got such a good dog team this year," Baker said later. "Oh, I feel so good. ... But I'm going to have a good time doing whatever I do."
Last year, Baker vaulted to the front ranks of mushing with a surprising 11th-place finish in his second Iditarod, even though his dogs spent the middle of the race fighting sickness.
A single father, commercial pilot and owner of a fuel-hauling business, Baker ran with basically every dog he owned and outfitted them with the help of friends and family. His self-launched operation produced the best finish by a musher from Northwest Alaska in years, and one of the top finishes by someone with Alaska Native heritage.
This year, Baker has secured major backing from Cominco, operator of Kotzebue's Red Dog Mine, as well as PetroStar, NANA-VECO and regional Native corporations NANA and CIRI. But Baker says some of his best support can't be measured in dollars.
Just before leaving home for Anchorage, he was asked to drop by Kotzebue Elementary. At least 1,000 friends, neighbors and school kids greeted him in the gym with cheering and applause. About one-third of the town had gathered for a Baker pep rally; if the same thing had happened in Anchorage, more than 80,000 people would show up.
"That's why I end up here, and I'm a confident, cocky guy," Baker said. "Because I have a lot of support in Kotzebue."
Baker showed the fifth-graders at Sand Lake Elementary a video of him, his dogs, and his 10-year-old son, Alex. Then the kids -- obviously familiar with mushing -- grilled him on a variety of topics:
* How to feed and care for your dogs.
* Proper clothing.
* His training schedule and average travel speed.
* How to keep snow from balling up in paws.
* Whether the team makes potty stops.
* How to navigate Arctic blizzards.
Baker told them how he once fell through ice with a heavy metal sled, struggled to swim and finally gave up, sinking -- only to discover the water was 3 feet deep. He told them he keeps warm by eating plenty of traditional food -- seal oil, caribou and muktuk.
Sara Barclay was one student who came equipped with mushing background. "I went to visit another musher," she explained, "and I wanted to compare what kinds of methods (Baker) had."
After listening awhile, she approved. "It was awesome," she said.
After an hour, Baker went down the hall to meet with a room of kindergartners. They brightened when Baker told them about the serum run to Nome, something they recognized from a recent Disney feature.
"Oh yeah!" one boy exclaimed. "Balto! I have the movie!"
But kindergartners turned out to be a skeptical group, posing tough questions -- Why are dog races always in winter? Why do the dogs run 1,000 miles? Why do you need sleds? Why is it important to be in first place?
In the end, Baker told them that he'd placed 22nd in his first race, 11th in his second.
"This year, I'm going to be what?"
"First!" several responded. (One kid called out, "Second!")
One boy was unconvinced. "Maybe," he said. "You don't know that."
With a Bush pilot's calm in the face of turbulence, Baker smiled and agreed. "Maybe. But I'm going to try. And if I try, then I'm going to be happy."