Tim is back in Sundell

Hey All;

This is Tim writing, completely humbled by what the dogs and I just went through. Words can't express the feelings that I went through over the course of the race, intense ups and downs, both severe when they occurred. I knew that would happen and it was one of the main reasons I undertook this adventure back in September. I needed what some might call a vision quest to clean out the drawers in my brain and it did work. I shook those drawers out upside down and the only ones there to witness this were some of my best friends, my dogs. Sounds corny, is corny, but I want to share this with you. The support that has come through from all those following has been immense and very powerful to me and will not be forgotten. In some ways I wish I had done this many years ago but, honestly, this was the correct year for us to tackle this monster of a race. And it worked. Holy cow and maybe I can finally grow some hair on my chest.

So, sitting here with a glass of single malt scotch and trying to reflect on different aspects of the race is actually quite difficult, there just is so much to rein in. Different parts of the trail and different times during the race all offered up completely opposite thoughts for me to process. Intense quiet, intense, long stretches of no human contact and the seemingly lost thread of time all contributed to me feeling completely in control for the first time in many years. What a great feeling that I allowed myself to experience, encourage and embrace. What a trip.

Speaking of trips, the hallucinations that happened I can't start to relate; it was like being back in college and about as expensive. The team broke into 2 separate strings of dogs running side by side. The dogs fannies all turned into the Muppets with Ms. Piggy being Eleanor, who was coming into heat. I was on the trail too long. Strip malls, radio shows in my head, the smell of creamed corn and my Mother's voice for the first time since she passed away last year. Sleep deprivation and exhaustion lead to some fascinating stuff. I felt like a monk out there. I found myself talking to the Guy in the sky. Again.

Cold. Yes, it was very cold. Went from 20 degrees to 35 below in 30 miles from Takotna to Ophir and never relented until the coast. The winds kicked up after leaving Iditarod and was right in your face for nearly 350 miles after that. Anywhere from 15 to 50 miles an hour and the dogs blossomed in that. We slept outside many times in this weather on the river, in the woods, at a few cabins. We had a party. Shit, it was the hardest thing I have ever done but found myself thinking it was the most fun I have ever had. Fifteen and one-half days behind a dog team. Yahoo!!

We conquered the trail in little bits and our mantra was "One tripod at a time." A tripod is a marker on the trail constructed of 3 poles lashed together and is a permanent fixture on the barren landscape. Anymore than that and I found myself getting sour about how far we had to go. Small bits, chewable bits, allowable bits of trail and the dogs understood that. We got stronger as we went, both mentally and physically; we were a team in the same endeavour and we depended on each other to get through it. I was told I would never be the same person after finishing the Iditarod and I hope that is true. Complete, content and headed in the right direction.

So, a few more highlights and low lights. Having Egil Ellis and George Attla as handlers at the restart was like having Babe Ruth and Cy Young telling me I can play baseball. Lou Packer saved my race in Nikolai when I was ready to scratch because I hit the wall and his Knute Rockne speech in (honestly) a locker room in the local school pulled me out of my downer state. I am so, so saddened that he had dogs die. He got stuck in a bad storm that some of us scooted through in the daylight and he tackled in the dark. Life can be so fragile and fleeting - he was lucky to make out it out himself -but I am sure he wished it was himself and not the dogs. I know I would have as well.

So much to share but I can't go on forever. Many folks to thank, especially Mary for her support and this hilarious blog. Next time we need Tom to add more as he is a fantastic writer as well. Too bad he wants to be a doctor verses a script writer for a comedy show. And thanks to my wonderful staff at the hospital for putting up with me and taking care of the shop. And thank you George. You are an elder to more than you know.


What is next? I am not sure but I am finding myself wanting to tackle the race again and see the northern route next year. The dogs have seen the trail and we all learned much this year. It is the hardest race we have ever attempted and I told myself a million times I was retiring from racing after this year's Iditarod. What the heck am I considering it again for? Stay tuned, I suppose.

And a very, very heartfelt thank you to all those that supported us and gave all sorts of encouragement and love. We did feel it out there, especially in the tough situations. It kept me going.

All the best and happy trails,

Tim