Anchorage Daily News

For many Alaskans, the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race is, well, commonplace. It's not that we don't appreciate the hard work it takes to train for and race such a grueling event. And it's not that we don't appreciate all the skill and patience it takes to do one thing so well. No doubt, the feats of the dogs and mushers are celebrated every March. It's just that the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race is as much a part of our Alaska lives as northern lights on a clear night or a fresh snowfall on a cold morning.

It takes people like Laurie Brown, a Minnesota mother of six now confined to a wheelchair as a result of a car accident six years ago, to remind us that the Iditarod captures the hearts of fans worldwide.

Brown, soon to be 46, had dreams of running the Last Great Race until her accident. To her, the Iditarod would be the culmination of years of preparation.

Those dreams took a detour after a series of hard times fell upon Brown, but we caught up with her in Cambridge, Minn., where she now lives and where she is readying for the trip of a lifetime. An anonymous donor has financed her trip to Alaska to see the Iditarod start in Anchorage, attend the mushers banquet and go to the restart in Willow.

It won't be the same as riding the runners herself, but it's a gift for which she is very thankful.

Q. When and how did you learn about mushing?

A. For as long as I can remember I have loved working with dogs. I was in my early teens when I first heard about dog sledding.

Q. Tell us a little about your mushing and guiding career.

A. I started my kennel with a rescued malamute-timber wolf I named Keemo. Soon after I rescued her, I saw an ad for a free malamute hybrid. To my surprise, he looked exactly like Keemo. His name was Bear, but should've been Houdini -- he had a knack for being the best escape artist I had ever met.

At this point, I was taking friends out to remote camping areas, fishing holes, and such. Someone ... told me about being a Maine guide and I figured since I was already doing a lot of the things guides do, why not get paid.

My husband, youngest son and I bought a little less than 50 acres, and moved off the grid for two years. We lived in a large Army tent, 16 feet wide by 32 feet long. By then I had bred the two mals I had rescued and had six pups that I put into training.

We used the dogs for transportation in the winter, and to haul water, food, supplies and wood out to our tent, which was about 4.5 miles off the main road. I loved it, but unfortunately my now ex-hubby wasn't so thrilled with it all.

Q. Tell us about your early racing days.

A. I had bought a couple of Alaskan huskies and was going to sprint races handling for teams. One of those huskies I bought ended up being pregnant and had a litter of six, so my racing career started. The more I raced the more I wanted to run distance. Sprint racing is fun but way too short. In the back of my mind, I had the Iditarod bug.

I continued to guide and race and dream of distance racing -- most of all running the Iditarod. I even bought Joe Runyan's book, "Strategies for the Distance Musher" and started longer training runs and used a lot of his ideas for kennel and breeding strategies. I bought a house in town and purchased a couple wheel dogs from a musher at a sprint race and a gee-haw leader from another musher.

The divorce changed everything. I had to give up my kennel, which had grown into 22 dogs. I had a few guide job offers in Maine, but only seasonal work. I decided that I was going to sell everything and move to Minnesota and hire myself out to handle and run my qualifiers for the Iditarod. I wasn't getting any younger. So off I went with my youngest son to follow my dream.

Q. Tell us about your accident, and how it has limited your mushing since?

A. One horrible night I got a call from my next-door neighbor's son asking me to pick him up. His mom was not around much and the kid had been eating at my house almost every night for about three months. It was Oct. 12, 2002, right before the racing season started.

It was the middle of the night, pouring rain, and somehow I found the kid and headed back across the bridge between Wisconsin and Duluth.

I remember coming off the bridge ramp but nothing else. I woke up between two and three weeks later in the intensive care unit with all kinds of tubes and casts everywhere.

I struggled through some real intensive physical therapy for about two years. Also I had a traumatic brain injury, so I had to learn how to speak all over again. During physical therapy they found I had osteonecrosis, which is bone death, in my hip. My hip was disintegrating. Finally, after two years of pain and struggling, my doctor told me I would be confined to a wheelchair.

There went any chance of ever mushing again.

Q. How have you stayed involved in dog mushing?

A. I ... followed every race online for more than a decade. I even printed off all the updates so I could figure out each musher's strategy. I followed the race and rooted for the mushers, helped the "new people" on the (Web) forum. I still have two harnesses I saved from my years of mushing.

Q. Who are your pets now?

A. I have a para/service dog from Hearing and Service Dogs of Minnesota. His name is Spirit. He is an American German shepherd. We have been a team for four years now, and he is a part of the family. My son and Spirit fight over the other side of the couch, and guess who wins? Spirit. Spirit provides so much accessibility for me. I can do things I never thought I would do again.

Q. Any particular Iditarod dogs or mushers that you look up to? Why?

A. Following Susan Butcher's career was the first time I thought it was possible for me to run the Iditarod. Then it was DeeDee Jonrowe. Team Norway blew me away, and Rachael Scdoris has been a huge inspiration. It's not chance, it's Lance (Mackey) -- wow, I never thought I'd stop crying last year.

I really can't pick a favorite. I live vicariously through each and every one of them.

Q. When and how did you find out you were going to be at this year's Iditarod? Was it a surprise?

A. I got a call around the first of January that my name had been submitted to an anonymous group that sends handicapped people on dream trips and that they were considering me.

The first of February I found out that it was a go. I think I have been crying pretty much every day since. There have been more surprises, too. Once my Idita-family on the (Web) forum found out, outer gear and clothes showed up on my doorstep. Mike Suprenant (rookie Iditarod musher from Chugiak) came up with a banquet ticket for me.

Q. What are you hoping to get from your Iditarod visit?

A. The culmination of a life of preparation for running this race myself. Meeting the mushers and watching these wonderful athletes -- even if it's only for a moment -- work. It is truly an amazing feat to get 16 dogs to work in tandem and to cross Alaska together.

I just want to see a little piece of what I missed and shake the hands of the truly brave, talented mushers -- and a few paws too.

Find Melissa DeVaughn online at adn.com/contact/mdevaughn or call 257-4482.

Name: Laurie Brown Age: 46 Occupation: I am now disabled, confined to a wheelchair. I still hold my registered Maine guide license though and hope to one day return to Maine, my home state, and teach. Home: Cambridge, Minn. Family: Six children ranging in age from 30 to 15, and nine grandchildren

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