IditaProject Forum

Breeze wrote:And today we got a long apologia from Mitch Seavey about why he reported Michelle and Mille for their rule-breaking, and why his opinion about that is carved in stone.

Gerhardt Thiart is one of my heroes of the 2022 Iditarod, (taking nothing away from Brent Sass for his brilliant win nor from Dallas Seavey for his spirited challenge).
Twenty-two years ago, Gerhardt lived in South Africa and, watching Iditarod footage with a couple of spoiled Siberian Huskies at his feet, he declared “I can do that,” and his Iditarod dream was born. Immigration, green card, years of apprenticeship at a kennel in Michigan, then reaching out to Alaska and our kennel, he landed here. Financial challenges, sponsorships, qualifiers and two years of kennel work ensued. Throughout, Gerhardt worked hard and exhibited exceptional care and empathy for his dogs and joined by his wife Al Jo, he persevered and made it to Iditarod 2022. After 22 years. Two decades, to get to the starting line.
Gerhardt’s superb run with the “puppy team” came to a halt in the Topkok Foothills in a storm dubbed by officials “as bad as it gets.” He was in trouble. His dogs were at risk. And he committed the most selfless act a musher can. Twenty-two years invested, people watching, sponsors with high expectations, his own dreams in the balance. He pushed his rescue button -- for the sake of his dogs. He received assistance and his race was over. (Watch his interview on the Insider if you haven’t. You’ll be a better person for it.)
He did the right thing, and we celebrate his decision. Somewhere in all of this he broke his leg, a detail he dismisses as “no big deal.”
Many others have similar stories from 2022. Several near the same time and place as Gerhardt, like Bridgett Watkins. Decisions were made in favor of dog care over competitive position or even finishing. That’s what Iditarod mushers do.
Michelle Phillips and Mille Porsild took their dogs inside a shelter cabin in a storm between Koyuk and Elim for a similar reason. They felt it was life or death. They placed the welfare of their dogs first. This, however, was a clear violation of Rule 37 prohibiting taking dogs into shelters, and the practical application of that rule has always been “if a dog goes indoors, that dog is out of the race.”
The Iditarod is a challenge. An extreme challenge. The challenge is for one musher and their dogs to conquer the inevitable series of difficulties Alaska throws their way each March. Trail conditions, lack of snow, too much snow, open water or wind. Yes, we have food drops, trail markers and check points with volunteers and veterinarians. But beyond that we’re on our own. No outside assistance. Follow the rules. Be prepared to take care of ourselves. Finishing isn’t a Right, it’s a privilege. By design, this race is archaic and historic. And incredibly difficult. No planned help, no dogs in shelters, no motorized assistance, take it as it comes.
You haven’t completed the ice bucket challenge if you used warm bath water. You haven’t thru-hiked the Appalachian trail if you took the bus for 100 miles in Virginia, even if you had an injury. Yes, you may have done the smart thing. Thru-hike? No.
Rule 37 actually encourages the best dog care. Mushers: don’t expect to take your dogs indoors on the Iditarod. Be prepared for anything. Rest enough. Keep good body weight on your dogs. Carry enough food. Put coats on them in the wind. Breed dogs that are adapted to the environment. Time your runs to the conditions. And don’t expect a cabin when you want one. There are very few out there.
So, we all applaud the mushers that made decisions in favor of their dogs, even if against the rules of the competition. They have the right priorities. But they have not then, completed the challenge. Not this year.
The spirit of the race rules is “the race should be won on merit, not a technicality.” Forgetting a race bib or a vet book or a piece of mandatory gear is a mere technicality. Penalties are usually warnings or small fines. It doesn’t affect the finishing order. Infractions that affect the competition are dealt with more seriously. For example, a musher once left the starting line with three lead dogs side-by-side, naively violating the two-dogs-abreast rule, a seemingly minor infraction, but he received a two-hour time penalty.
I have been in a lot of “blows” on the Iditarod. In my first, 1982, I couldn’t make it to Shaktoolik and retreated several miles back to the protection of the timber to wait it out. When I did make another attempt, almost a day later, I was again stopped by fierce wind and, refusing to backtrack again, I pulled all the dogs downwind next to the sled and pulled out a tarp in a futile attempt to create a better wind break. The tarp took flight immediately. I hope someone in Siberia made good use of it. I tried to get into my sleeping bag and as I pulled it out, the wind tried to snatch it and I nearly lost that as well. I got the sleeping bag into the sled and got myself inside. The dogs were soon covered with snow and thus, well protected from the wind.
Joe Redington Sr. woke me up a few hours later, asking if I was okay. The weather had improved, and we made it to Shaktoolik and on to Nome from there.
In 2009 Aaron Burmeister and I left Shaktoolik in a blow that stopped nearly the entire race. It was -35 F and blowing 40-50 mph. Coldest windchill I’ve ever seen. We made it to the shelter cabin 12 miles out and hunkered down. We enlarged the depression on the downwind side of the cabin using axes and snowshoes as shovels and positioned our sleds as added windbreaks. We had plenty of straw, and plenty of dog food. We piled the dogs all in together and they were not just safe, but comfortable. We were there for over 22 hours.
Another musher came along and attempted to let their loose dogs into the cabin, whereupon Aaron and I had a lively time protecting our dog food supplies while ejecting the intruders.
“You know that’s against the rules.”
There were a couple of other unprepared mushers, without adequate food or straw, who showed up there, then returned the 12 miles to Shaktoolik to wait out the storm. A good move on their part.
This year, somewhere before Old Woman Cabin, I came upon Mille working on a broken runner. Turns out she had two broken runners. Pete Kaiser had given her some hose clamps and tools and I gave her my Leatherman tool and she was able to patch it together and made it to Unalakleet. Tough, capable musher. At the checkpoint she approached me asking if she could use my spare sled (which I had sent there for emergencies). Apparently, it was the only available sled in town.
“Of course. It’s yours.” She gave me a hug.
After the race, I filed a report with race officials about Michelle and Mille taking their dogs indoors at the shelter cabin before Elim. It’s simply against the rules. I don’t personally care about a finishing position in the teens and I don’t care about a couple of bucks difference in prize money. I do care about the integrity of the rules, the spirit of the Iditarod race, the sportsmanship and self-reliance, the dog care and wilderness skills that have been demonstrated for 50 years. Good on them for caring for their dogs. But their competitive status just changed -- which would seem inconsequential in the wake of a true “life-or-death” event.
And I sincerely wish the race organization had handled this differently. Timely. Proactively. Decisively. And not left it to all of us to hash it out.
I’ve mushed the Iditarod with Joe Redington Sr., Herbie Nayokpuk, Jerry Austin, Susan Butcher, Rick Swenson, Sonny Lindner, Larry Cowboy Smith, Lance Mackey and so many other greats. Martin Buser, Doug Swingley, Jeff King, Dee Dee Jonrowe and Bill Cotter were at the top of their game as I was learning to be competitive. My dad, Dan Seavey, ran the very first one 50 years ago, and I was his handler at the starting line. These mushers were tough, resourceful and didn’t expect any concessions. I came of age with these mushers, this attitude, this spirit. So, call me old fashioned. The Iditarod is old fashioned. If the Iditarod’s very survival is at risk, it isn’t from outside forces, it’s from inside and in part from failure to be true to what we are and what makes the Iditarod so great.
The Iditarod is intentionally archaic, hearkening back to millennia of arctic travel with dogs. Herbie, Joe Garnie and John Baker wouldn’t even think this weather is that severe. Yes, modernity has changed the race somewhat. I ran many races before trackers – there was no button to push for rescue and nobody knew exactly where we were. There were no GPSs allowed – we didn’t even know exactly where we were. And no two-way communication – we were truly on our own. These innovations are now ubiquitous and unavoidable bringing both benefits and downsides to the race.
But still, the Iditarod is essentially one musher and team traversing the trail under their own power, without outside assistance -- and following the rules.
That’s the challenge we sign up for. Mush to Nome according to the agreed-upon set of harder-than-necessary rules. If safety or wisdom requires breaking the rules, then kudos to the person making that difficult decision in favor of their dogs. But that musher has now deviated from what the challenge is. Like Mille and Michelle, and others. Like Gerhardt.
There’s always next year, hopefully.

flowerpower wrote:Mitch's FB page:

Gerhardt Thiart is one of my heroes of the 2022 Iditarod, (taking nothing away from Brent Sass for his brilliant win nor from Dallas Seavey for his spirited challenge).

flowerpower wrote:And from Craig, who always likes to stir the pot

flowerpower wrote:And from Craig, who always likes to stir the pot: https://craigmedred.news/2022/03/24/playing-favorites/?fbclid=IwAR06P-jk_pKWGHBNUTElDnCi_Bd3uuM5znkd52bslVxvDh-WoQUBmNalAz8