At issue is a conversation last week, when musher Wade Marrs said Morrie Craig approached him before the race and told him his dog team had tested positive for minuscule levels of a substance.
Joar Leifseth Ulsom, long a rising star in the world of top Iditarod mushers, claimed the lead on the Bering Sea coast.
Girdwood racer Nicolas Petit arrived in Unalakleet at 1:40 p.m. in the lead of the 2018 Iditarod. DeeDee Jonrowe greeted the musher with a hug, and Petit planned to stay at the Bering Sea coast checkpoint as Joar Leifseth Ulsom and Mitch Seavey close in.
It's not all trail mix and beef jerky out here. Behold the musher chow of Iditarod 2018.
Nicolas Petit, as expected, just let all his competitors know that he is here to win and if they want to beat him, they better start making moves now.
Four years ago, she was an Iditarod racer and he was a on a winter bicycle adventure when they met in this tiny log cabin in the ghost town of Ophir. Now they are mushing down the trail together.
The defending champ and three-time winner is among a crowd of contenders marching toward the official halfway checkpoint of Iditarod.
Who is the defending champ's toughest competition? Which dogs has he dropped and why? Tegan Hanlon sits down over cheeseburgers for a lengthy interview with a cheery Mitch Seavey, who says his dogs look "crazy good."
Joar Leifseth Ulsom has thrown caution to the wind by pushing farther than any of his closest competitors. The move could be a deciding factor in the race.
Take a one-minute break with this footage from above the 2018 Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race.
From learning Spanish to playing the harmonica to counting dog booties, Iditarod racers have come up with creative ways to stay awake during the 1,000-mile race.
For a March evening in the Interior Alaska village of Nikolai, Tuesday was warm.
The level of health care for canine athletes has risen to new heights since the 1973 inaugural running.
Whether you view the race from downtown Anchorage or somewhere along the snowy trail after the restart at Willow Lake, there are few things that feel quite as Alaskan.
Commentary: Even when the Iditarod does not make substantive changes, it pays lip service to change. If fans demand a slower race, it will happen.
In the past decade, Nic Petit, an easygoing 38-year-old from France, has shifted from a dog-loving, nomadic ski bum to a dog-loving, top-tier Iditarod competitor.
As mushers and their sled dogs ready for the dash to Nome and spectators prepare to follow their journeys, here are answers to a few questions about how the race works.
"I want to soak it all in – all of the hard work, tears, joy, that has come with pursuing this dream since the kennel began when I was 14," Shaynee Traska says.
Far more dogs perish in big-city shelters than in the 1,000-mile race to Nome, but even so there is much room for improvement in the practices of the Iditarod.
"Someone saying 'Y-O-U-R a dumb liberal' is not nearly as intimidating as a 50-mile-an-hour headwind on the Yukon River," says Oregon musher Rachael Scdoris-Salerno.
