Half Way and Half Full

As of midnight Alaska time on Saturday night, Tim's about 10 miles from the ghost town of Iditarod, the half-way point. Wow. There's an unconfirmed rumor that there are only 3 other people in the race, besides Tim, with year-round, full time "other" jobs; and considering that Tim works at least 50 hours per week as a veterinarian (not including Dr. Tim's Pet Food Company) and we've never had a handler, it's nothing short of a miracle that he's been able to train up a team to do this. In a way, the most taxing part of the battle has already been fought and won in Sundell , training out of our own back yard; but in all honestly, the truly draining aspect of this race is happening right now on the trail, and it's the musher trying not to become a casualty of his or her own mental land mines. It happens to most everyone and you either work through it or scratch. Period. And at the end of the day, it doesn't matter where they finish as getting to this point alone is victory enough.

On a completely different note, we ate such an insanely delicious, filling Mexican lunch in Wasilla Thursday that Tom was referring to our fare later that evening as "extended release burritos"; we've also had Thai and Greek (both delicious) and could effortlessly eat our way around the world between Wasilla and Anchorage. The variety in the grocery stores is boggling, too; old-timey commodities in stitched-up sacks, organic lemongrass, waxy boxes of black-strap molasses next to Boar's Head Serrano Ham - a real Drucker's Whole Foods - and a Russian grocery store (Wasilla has been "vahsZEEEELeh" ever since) where I bought the most curious cookies: minty, moldy, breathtaking, expensive...really expensive... and chocolate bars with a creepy, overgrown baby on the wrapper. It's a good life.

PS - just checked again and they're in Iditarod.