As far
back as I can remember, I have been fascinated by the
North Country. From watching Sgt Preston, to reading
Robert Service and Jack London, stories of Alaska and
the Yukon have gripped my very soul. As an adolescent,
I read every book in the library that even mentioned
Alor the Yukon. My whole life has been spent trying
to go “just a little further north”, and
loving every second I spent there.
I also have an insatiable curiosity about how the universworks
at its most fundamental level. The job market for Physicists
seemed to hold a brighter future than for “bush
rat” or “dog bum”, so (after a short
interruption for servin SouthEast Asia) I got a Ph.
D. in Elementary Particle Theory (it was either that
or General Relativity). The job market was not as strong
as I thought, and I wound up doing exploration geophysics
for Shell Oil in Houston Texain 1980. It was a great
job, but living in Houston was all it took to remind
me my passion lies further north. During the industry
downturn, Shefinally offered me a package. Marti and
I prayed for guidance and decided to ta great job and
salary for a great place to live, moving to Anchorage
in 1992.
I’d been following the Iditarod for years, so
volunteering for the race was a natural. Meeting the
other volunteers was like meeting family from far away.
Then I met the dogs and all hope was lost. I had to
be part of this. I took my Chessie and a pair of skis
and started down the Iditarod trail. The same trail
that Leonard Seppala, Scotty Allen, and Ironman Johnson
had run 100 years earlier. The same trail that Rick
Swenson and Susan Butcher had raced on. Their presence
was almost palpable. I quickly graduated to a sled and
started making plans to run the race.
Life did its usual thing for the next 10 years, but
the kids grew up and moved out, finances stabilized,
and when opportunity knocked, I ran my first 300 mile
race (an Iditarod qualifier) in 2002. What a mess. I
not only didn’t know the answers, I didn’t
even know the questions. I didn’t finish that
one (pulled because I was too slow), but I came back
two months later and finished my second 300 mile race
(also a qualifier) in 4 ½ days. You don’t
give up on a dream just because you failed the first
time. A friend offered to help me train and in 2004
I finished 2 two hundred mile qualifiers. In 2005 I
finished a 300 mile qualifier. I was officially qualified
to run the 2006 Iditarod.
A week after I signed up for the 2006 race I unexpectedly
lost my job. After all those years of scheming, planning,
working, and learning you don’t just walk away
from a dream. Marti and I prayed and decided to run
the race on our savings. I was the oldest rookie in
the 2006 race and it was everything I expected and more.
I got beat up pretty good and caught a nasty bug but
I did it, finishing 68th out of 71 finishers and 83
starters. I knew I could do better and couldn’t
wait until next year. We financed that one from our
401 (k).
Eric at the start of the 2008 Iditarod.
Platinum and Dash in lead.
Photo by Jeff Schultz/ IditarodPhotos.NET
Two thousand seven was
a tough year. Twenty-Four of the 82 starters failed
to finish, including 4 time champion Doug Swingley (broken
ribs) and favorite Dee Dee Jonrowe (broken finger).
I made it through the early hazards, but badly wrenched
my shoulder when I slammed it into a block of ice leaving
McGrath. Then between Ophir and Iditarod I frostbit
my toe, hit a frozen tussock wrong and broke my leg
(proximal fibula so I couldstill walk) and one runner
on my sled. Well it takes more than a subtle message
like that to stop me. I patched the runner, thawed the
toe, and continued. Eight miles later I hit another
tussock, twisted the same leg, broke the patched runner
and broke the remaining good runner. At this point the
sled is not usable and I don’t have materials
to patch it again. It is 50 miles to the next checkpoint
over the same conditions I’ve just traveled. If
I continued I could easily get hurt bad enough I couldn’t
care for my dogs, and I couldn’t put them at risk.
I retreated 3 miles to Don’s Cabin (it took 2
hours to get there) and waited for the trail sweeps
to come help get me and the dogs safely off the trail.
I knew I could do better, so we refinanced our house
to get the money for the 2008 race. It was a dream come
true. I joined the over 60 club and finished 68th (again)
out of 78 finishers and 96 starters, with a strong happy
dog team, feeling great about the whole experience.
I’m finally getting the idea. Two weeks later
the dogs and I ran the Taiga 300, finishing with a 110
mile run to take second place and the vet’s choice
award for excellence in dog care. This is what life
is all about. Living your dreams and following you passions.
I just need to find a way to pay for it!
