Cross-country Skiing in Alaska, Part 4: The Extras—Talkeetna, the Iditarod, an Old Friend

    The twelve of us on this Sierra Club outing (see previous three posts) gathered first at a hotel in Anchorage, then spent the next night in Talkeetna. I immediately fell in love with this tiny, heavily-snowed-in, historic town at the foot of Denali. We stayed at the authentically rustic Roadhouse Inn,

                                                                                        photo by Diana Coogle

built in 1917, where backpackers and climbers of Mt. Denali often stay. Denali was out (as they say) the day we were there, shining majestically against a blue sky at the far end of the frozen Talkeetna River, with royal attendants Foraker and Hunter beside it.

                                                                                        photo by Patricia Carlson
L to R: Foraker, Hunter, Denali 

After a walk through the snow (floundering where the snow wasn't packed down),

              photo by Patricia Carlson
Rachel Shiozaki (one of our group) 
That's me trying to walk in the snow behind her.

some of us stopped in the Talkeetna Brewery for one of their renowned blueberry mojitos.

                                                                      photo by Patricia Carlson
Me with the blueberry mojito that matches my clothes.

That evening, we had the good fortune of a gorgeous sunset over Denali. 

                                                                                Photo by Natalie Schoeppler

     After five days of skiing at the Denali View Inn, we returned to Anchorage, driving in from the north. The setting was stunningly beautiful, the city tucked under massive, snow-covered mountains.

                                                                    photo by Patricia Carlson

The next day was the beginning of the Iditarod, with its ceremonial start in downtown Anchorage. 

    Snow fell steadily all day. Perfect! We ought to be seeing those sled dogs and their bundled-up mushers in snow. The crowd at the ceremony was jovial and well wrapped in Alaska-wise cold-weather outfits—fake furs, hats and mittens, blankets muffling babies in strollers.

Melinda, from our group, with man in Alaska wear

The dogs were excited. The owners and trainers and mushers were excited. The announcers were excited. The crowd was excited. This year was the Iditarod's 50th anniversary, so the mood was particularly buoyant.

    The dogs were eager for the race.

                                                                 photo by Louise Suhr
 Note the booties

They are, after all, athletes, and the mushers love them and take good care of them. Bret Sass, who won this year's race, also won the Vet's Choice award for his dog care in 2015 and 2019. His bio on the Iditarod website says he lives "with his dogs" (no mention of wife, children, or other human inhabitants) on a 1970s homestead in Alaska. PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) had a small protest in the crowd at the race, but no one paid them any attention, and, really, it looked like they didn't have a leg to stand on when it came to the Iditarod's canine athletes.

                                                                                                photo by Louise Suhr

    After watching a dozen or so sled-dog teams dash off for Willow, Alaska, and the real, not just ceremonial, start of the race, I had had enough. Besides, I was having lunch with a friend whom I hadn't seen for many years, a native-born Alaskan who had returned to Anchorage many years ago after living in Oregon. Anna is a school administrator and a musician. When I walked to the brewery where we were to have lunch, she handed me two gifts: a couple of CDs of her music and a gorgeous Alaska hat—fake fur, of course, I'm glad to say, but warm and adorable with little ears on the cap, long extensions that I could wind around my neck as a scarf, and pockets at the ends of those extensions for cold hands. When I wore it into the restaurant, two different people said, "What a cute hat."

                                                   Photo by unknown passer-by

    I would love to have had it while I was skiing, but I wore it on the flight home so it could say, "See? I've been in Alaska!" It's spring in Oregon now, but I'm hoping it will be cold enough to wear this wonderful hat next winter—or maybe when I return to the Denali View Chalet. In the meantime, I like to see it, dangling its long scarf-like extensions, in my closet, a great remembrance of a wonderful time in Alaska, not only that lunch with Anna, but the Iditarod, Talkeetna, the Denali View Chalet, the Sierra Club group, and all that beautiful skiing in the incomparable landscape of the Alaska Range and Mt. Denali.