SHAKTOOLIK - Parked in warm sunshine behind the checkpoint here Sunday, Doug Swingley, defending champion of the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race, was a happy musher. "I'll be home tomorrow night or the day after tomorrow," he said. "Is today Sunday? I'll be home Tuesday night." By home, he meant Nome and a Tuesday finish, one to give him a third Iditarod victory. Through Sunday, he was on pace to set an Iditarod record, besting the 9 day, 2 hour mark that has stood for the five years since Swingley's first victory in 1995. After resting here more than five hours, he set out on the 48-mile run across frozen Norton Sound at 7:38 p.m., more than half an hour before his closest competitor, Paul Gebhardt, pulled in. His lead was six hours and growing. Five years ago, Swingley became the first Outsider to win the Iditarod. Last year, he became the first Outsider to do it twice. This year he should become the first Outsider and one of only a handful of mushers to win three times. Long before the finish of this race, mushers were praising the man from Lincoln, Mont. "He passed me on the Yukon River," said Gebhardt of Kasilof. "He was flying. We're going a little over 9 mph. He's going a little over 10." Gebhardt was the second musher to the Bering Sea coast behind Swingley. But the Montanan was gone from the wind-pounded Unalakleet checkpoint when Gebhardt arrived Sunday. The Kenai Peninsula musher stopped to assess the odds of catching Swingley. "Not a chance," he told four-time Iditarod champ Susan Butcher. "Not unless he slows down." "He's got to stop," she said. Gebhardt nodded his head. "He won't toast," he said. "Not after 700 miles. And he did this last year." A challenger to Swingley through the first two-thirds of Iditarod 2000, Gebhardt had shifted his attention from chasing the leader to holding position; if he can take second, he'll earn $45,000, $7,500 more than third place. But a host of teams were on his heels, among them Ramy Brooks of Healy, Charlie Boulding of Manley and three-time champion Jeff King of Denali. Gebhardt was much more worried about being caught than about catching. "The guy I think has probably got the best team out there, the fastest, is Jeff King," Gebhardt said. Or at least King appeared to have the fastest team among those competing for second. There was no denying who had the fastest team overall. "Look at the stats," King said as he readied his dog team Sunday to leave Unalakleet, 851 miles from the 1,100-mile race start in Anchorage. "I need a meteor to fall out of the sky and hit him in the head." "I had a great run" up the Yukon River, King said. "I felt good until I looked at the stats. Doug really poured it on, didn't he? It's amazing." As King was making his way through the wind and spindrift snow that welcomed mushers to the Bering Sea with a taste of just how bitter the coastal weather can be, Swingley was 30 miles ahead, closing in on Shaktoolik, the last checkpoint before the icy crossing of Norton Sound. When Swingley's dog team trotted into a throng of cheering villagers lining the single street between the two rows of houses that compose this village, the wind was just a puff above dead calm and the temperature had climbed close to thawing. "Every time I've been here," Swingley joked, "it's been like this, just like this." On fresh straw in the warm sun on the seaward side of the Shaktoolik checkpoint, his dogs lounged. Back in Unalakleet, his competitors had huddled behind chunks of snow bulldozed into 6-foot berms on the ice of the slough behind the village. The makeshift shelter in Unalakleet provided some protection, but, as Swingley noted, it was not the best place to rest a dog team. Shaktoolik was much better, and the Montanan had it all to himself. He was enjoying it too, smiling behind his Oakley sunglasses and chatting with everyone as he went about his chores. Only his disheveled hair gave any sign that he'd been on the trail for a week with little sleep. He carefully explained to veterinarians which dogs he thought had aches and pains from 900 miles of trail. Then he went about his work as they gave each of the dogs a thorough examination. When Swingley heard a yelp, he looked up from his dog cooker and warned: "Hey, Jean, if you touch that dog's feet, he'll bite you. Don't take it personal. He bites me too." A villager asked about Swingley's one-eyed dog. "He hasn't had that eye for a long time," Swingley said. "He had a puncture wound as a puppy, and it was really bothering him, so we had to take the eye out. He does fine with one. Last year, I had one blind dog and one one-eyed dog finish for me." The blind dog is running in the Iditarod in the team of Ross Adam from Grande Prairie, Alberta, this year. "There's two new ones in this team," he said. The rest of the 12 dogs still with him at Shaktoolik had been there last year when Swingley dominated. "Those two leaders know exactly what's going on now," Swingley said. What's going on is something of a replay. Everyone agrees that 1999 was an impressive showing. This one - against what everyone agrees is the best field in Iditarod history - appears more so. q The Associated Press contributed to this story.
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