Arctic Award

We stopped in Talkeetna, AK to grab a bite at the Denali Brewing Company’s restaurant. Most of our fellow Alcaners headed straight into Anchorage, but Josh, Trevor, Matt and I were not eager to end our trip quite yet. Plus, Trevor makes his own beer and sampling the local faire is a necessity for his craft. Somehow, Alaska has the best homemade pretzels in the world. Trust me, I’ve been to Munich multiple times. And the fish ‘n chips ain’t bad either.

Josh and I visited the Antler Outpost across the street where he purchased a cross section of a whale rib and I bought some antler bone earrings. The woman behind the counter attempted to sell us an oosik, which is a walrus’ phallus. We politely declined.

We headed out to Anchorage and pulled in with just enough time to change clothes and call a Lyft. The Alcan5000 finale dinner was held at the Anchorage Aviation Museum.

We were given a tour and learned an unknown fact that Japan actually occupied an island up here called Attu in 1942 after Pearl Harbor and the US had to relocate natives down south.

Eventually the awards ceremony began and Josh and I received a “Finisher” award, 2nd in our class (2E – equipped, because we have a rally computer) and the “Arctic Award” for completing all of the “extreme” controls. We were given 3 plaques. The last one is that which I’m most proud of. If it were up to me, I would give another award to Josh for driving the furthest before and after the rally; he still has eight days to go.

This morning we got up and walked downtown to the start of the Ididarod, the start of the dog sled race from Anchorage to Nome. Mushers and a team of 14 dogs cover the distance of 938 miles in 8-15 days. The official event started in 1973 but it has historical roots when miners arrived to dig coal and gold in the 1880s-1920s.

The most famous race was that during a diphtheria outbreak in 1925, when Nome’s antitoxin had expired and the nearest supply was in Anchorage. The only way to deliver it was by sled dog, as planes weren’t used yet and ships were too slow. If you know the story of Balto, he was the lead dog that arrived in Nome, after 20 mushers and over 100 dogs had relayed the serum along the journey. The dog that ran the longest portion was called Togo, and there is apparently a show on Disney+ on him now.

We saw the ceremonial start of the race in downtown Anchorage on 4th and D St. The real one starts tomorrow in Willow, AK, which is about 45 miles out. I read that the mushers and dogs head out about an hour down the road, then load up on trucks and rest for the real start tomorrow. On the way in, at a gas station, I saw a truck with odd sleighs perched on top and realized they were dog sleds. The dogs are kept in separate kennels on trucks and trailers and walking around downtown, we hear excited barks and howls echoing throughout the streets.

The Ididarod start is preceded by an Inuit-led song and dance, along with the Star Spangled Banner and Alaska’s state song, the singer cloaked in furs while snowflakes fell softly. As each team lines up, they count down from 10 and the dogs, dancing in place and eager to go, jet down the strip.

The festival held over the weeks surrounding the Ididarod, is called the Fur Rondy, from Fur Rendezvous, a festival derived from traditional fur-trading customs held. As a former vegan (I was vegan for seven solid years), I have a unique perspective. I might have a furry hood and fur-cuffed boots, but it’s fake and I will never buy real fur. There are “furriers” everywhere in downtown Anchorage. I have to step out of a critical perspective and acknowledge my setting for what it is: a land of survival. Without making the most use of every part of a hunt, natives wouldn’t have survived. I am indubitably privileged.

Josh and I started this journey with high hopes: for great memories and a deeper bond. We have earned those, along with new friendships and a calling…this beautiful earth is deserves more of our attention. Josh reiterated something I told him at the beginning of our trip, “We have the privilege of putting ourselves in calculated risk.”

Let us not forget, that to be able to travel is a privilege and the ability to learn from others is a gift.