01/23/00
MUSHERS TAKING A BEATING
KUSKOKWIM 300 TURNING INTO LITTLE RACE OF HORRORS
By S.J. Komarnitsky
Daily News Reporter
UPPER KALSKAG--With nearly 100 miles to go in the Kuskokwim 300 Sled
Dog Race, mushers were starting to look like survivors of a bad night
at the local pub.
Bleary eyed, they took mincing steps to keep from losing their balance
and rubbed weary hands through hair that, after two days on the trail,
defied gravity.
Their exhaustion wasn't from the mileage but the weather.
The teams had pushed through 200 miles of soft, punchy trail that
slowed sleds and dogs. Now a storm that shut down flights from Bethel
to the village of Aniak, 150 miles north, hammered them.
Blowing snow and biting winds gusting to 30 mph sent icy pellets hurtling
into mushers' faces. The wind blew drifting snow across the river,
quickly obscuring the trail.
Meanwhile, temperatures in the 30s took a toll on the dogs. Used to
running around 20 below, the canines suffered through a heat wave.
And conditions are expected to worsen today. The National Weather
Service issued a winter weather advisory calling for blowing snow
or rain with winds gusting to 45 mph.
''The Iditarod (Trail Sled Dog Race) should be a qualifier for this
race,'' joked a haggard-
looking Linwood Fiedler as he ladled out a watery stew of meat and
kibble for his dogs.
''It was hotter than heck out there,'' Kasilof musher Paul Gebhardt
said as he pulled booties off his dogs and watched them roll in the
snow to cool off.
Some mushers came prepared. Several pulled into the checkpoint wearing
Helly Hansen rain gear, a look more typical of commercial fishermen
than mushers. Several complained about the ''useless'' pounds of arctic
gear they carried in their sleds.
The dogs of Fairbanks musher Bryan Imus curled into balls, tucking
their noses under their tails to protect them against the harsh wind.
The dogs were tired after dragging the sled through slush and drifting
snow, Imus said. In some places, the team sank into slush hidden beneath
the snow.
''It's like you're trying to run through a sandbox,'' he said. ''It
really wears them out. You got to try to keep them happy. You tell
them how good they are.''
Imus, a former handler for three-time Iditarod champion Jeff King,
was already down to eight dogs and was thinking of dropping two more.
He started with 14.
''We might have to be here awhile,'' he said.
A relative newcomer to distance mushing -- he plans to run his first
Iditarod this year -- Imus was enjoying his time on the trail.
''I don't think the novelty has worn off yet,'' he said.
The same couldn't be said of Fiedler, a veteran of 11 Iditarods and
numerous other races.
''I'd have a hard time convincing anyone this was fun right now,''
he said as he headed for a nap.
But the mushers couldn't relax much.
With a $20,000 first-place prize on the line, the race was turning
into a familiar game of cat and mouse. Four teams, led by former Yukon
Quest champion Charlie Boulding, came into this riverside checkpoint
within 40 minutes of each other.
Just behind Boulding was King, followed by Imus and Fiedler. Though
tired, they kept a watchful eye on one another, quietly scanning one
another's teams.
''I think we'll be here for a while,'' Boulding said as he snacked
on moose stew inside the school that serves as the checkpoint.
Mushers turned the small school into a drying rack. Parkas and dripping
ski pants hung from bookshelves and chair backs while their owners
snacked on potato salad, moose stew and fresh donuts. News of a working
dryer sent many people scrambling.
But the mushers knew that once one musher started packing up gear,
the rest would have to follow.
''I've been here before,'' Boulding said. ''It just hasn't been storming
like this.''
Boulding was the first musher to leave here Saturday night, behind
11 dogs. He hit the trail at 5:47 p.m. Thus far, nobody has given
chase.
Reporter S.J. Komarnitsky can be reached at skomarnitsky@adn.com
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Anchorage Daily News
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