A most fortunate encounter

This day started with a disagreement with the editors of the new Iditarod book over whether something did or didn't happen during the 1974 race. I distinctly remember watching mushers cross the ice on two rivers near Anchorage. Others say that only happened in the first race in 1973 and in '74 there wasn't enough ice so they had to truck the dogs over two bridges to restart on the other side.

I even have a photograph of one team on the ice, but have no idea where it is so proving my point was difficult.  I had to leave the issue unresolved but I thought at least going my way and head for Anchorage.

I stopped at one of those super stores to get cash and something to eat.  While I was waiting for someone to sell me a few chicken tenders, I looked over into the seating area next to the delicatessen section. Sitting there was one of the mushers who actually crossed that ice during that 1974 race.  Disagreement resolved. Right now.

I had not seen him in at least 25 years. Dick Mackey had gone on to win the Iditarod in 1978 by the slimmest margin in history, literally by a lead dog's nose.

The next year as a race official he flew along the trail just as I was doing, gathering material for "The Last Great Race." At every stop we sat around fires or tables laden with beaver stew or on steel folding chairs in village community centers and Dick Mackey shared his knowledge with me, analyzed the progress of various mushers, assessed the quality of the trail, and the quality of different dog teams as the race moved toward Nome. I can honestly say he made my book so much better than I could have done without him. His expertise and willingness to share it meant so much to the finished product and I have been eternally grateful for his help.

And there he was sitting with his wife in the deli section of Fred Meyer on the very day I needed to confirm there was ice on the Matanuska River in 1974.

To tell the truth we talked so much I almost forgot to ask him about that. We covered how we are dealing with aging, firewood,  and views of the modern race compared with the old days. It had been a tough trail this year, but in the years Mackey ran the race they were all tough and the race did not get nearly the tactical support it gets now.  Even the trail itself was not guaranteed to be there.

"One guy this year complained it wasn't fun," he said. "you know in all my races, even running on a clear night with everything going well and stars shining or the moon or northern lights, I never thought of it as fun." he said, "satisfying, yes, but work, not fun."

The comment hit home. I have a friend who thinks everything is fun. But, everything isn't fun. I have built three houses during Alaska winters and while I found that satisfying, and I was happy about it, it was never, ever fun. I was glad to hear someone else enjoyed experience the same way I do. And as far as the tough trail this year, I knew what he was getting at, but I had to say I have not run the race so I have no standing to say what is tough and what isn't and who has it harder and who doesn't, but then I looked at him and said: "what you guys went through just doesn't compare with today."

And he said about the fun complaint, "you know three girls finished last this year and they came across the finish line with 12 or 14 dogs and all smiles. And they did it in 11 days." They found a way to have fun. In his day, Mackey ran races that took more than 20 days.

We have other shared experience too.  He is 81 now and I mentioned that I was planning for 81 by mapping out how much firewood I need to put in to get myself to that point so I can still make it to the East Pole, with a lot of the work already accomplished.

He laughed, smiled at his wife and they agreed they have about five years worth of firewood stacked right now. Made me feel like my plan is good, given that I have almost 10 years to get to 81 with five years of firewood under the house.

So, with the firewood issue settled, the state of the race thoroughly discussed and most of all the disagreement about ice on a river in 1974 resolved we said our good byes and went our separate ways again.  I felt richer for the experience.

Photo finish: Dick Mackey wins the 1978 Iditarod by 1 second.