Joe Delia has never run the Iditarod. But it's hard to imagine the race without him.

"He understands dogs and mushers. He understands Alaska. He's somebody who brings everything to the table,'' said Bob Sept, former trail veterinarian and race president. Delia has lived for almost 50 years in Skwentna, and his home has served as the Skwentna checkpoint since the Iditarod began in 1973.

Both the race and the country around Skwentna have changed since then, but Delia's open-door hospitality has been a constant, warm as a well-stoked stove and more dependable than the snow.

And the race has depended on it. Race manager Jack Niggemyer says he never has to worry about the how the checkpoint runs at Skwentna. "They can tell me how to do it,'' he says.

Delia and his wife, Norma, do it these days with a core crew of 22 from the community. Last year they fed almost 400 people in their two-story house.

Delia has made room for everybody. In some years Skwentna has become a sudden circus of planes, dogs, mushers, day-trippers, media and race officials. Delia has been patient and kind, ready to help, swift to laugh. A man who has driven dogs and still runs a trapline, as well as running the post office, he's been a good friend and kindred spirit to mushers, counting many of the veterans among his close friends.

Niggemyer recalls a night when a crowd of visitors slept on Delia's floor. He just listened as Delia and Iditarod champions Joe May and Dick Mackey told stories. Niggemyer says he felt that he was "in the company of a master.''

Delia has given the Iditarod a gracious way-station for 25 years, but he's also graced the race simply by who he is. He believes in deals by handshake, in honesty and in fair chase in making a living off the land.

As John Larson, former Channel 2 newsman who covered eight Iditarod races said: "If you think the real Alaska is gone, you've never had the privilege'' of meeting Joe Delia. "There are none finer -- anywhere.''