Olesen family’s lives intertwined with Quest

By Matias Saari
Published February 24, 2007

The Yukon Quest is one giant family, and at its heart are the Olesens.

The patriarch is the late Leo, who died of glandular cancer in May 2003 and whose spirit clearly permeates the 1,000-mile sled dog race that began in 1984.

Leo epitomizes the Quest. Although he was musher, he never raced the Quest, but has performed virtually every other role. He was race judge the first year, then race marshal from 1985-87, served on the rules committee until his death at age 58, was the race starter, and worked as race manager from 1996-2001.

Then there’s Donna, who was married to Leo for 33 years and serves on the Quest Alaska board of directors as well as on the race’s International Council.

Don’t forget Donna’s mother, Laverne Richard, who keeps a scrapbook of the race and alerted the bell-ringer at the Immaculate Conception Church when champion Lance Mackey was first spotted on the Chena River approaching the finish line Tuesday.

And there’s Erin Sheldon, Donna’s daughter from a previous relationship.

“I love it when people mistake me for Leo Olesen’s daughter,” Sheldon said Thursday night while waiting for a musher to arrive. Keeping her warm was a “fire sled” — a bonfire in a half-barrel mounted to Donna’s old high school downhill skis.

There’s also Leo and Donna’s son, Ian, 29, who works mostly behind the scenes and created more than 200 dog tags for this year’s Quest 300.

Last, but not least, are the Olesens’ 26-year-old twins, Alex and Darcy.

After years of volunteering, Alex took over Leo’s most recent job as race manager and is generally in charge of all logistics. Darcy, meanwhile, is one of Alex’s errand-running assistants (she also calls herself a “minion” and member of the “A-team”) who jumped on this year’s crew at the last minute.

The twins’ memories of the Quest go back to 1985.

“We spent so much time on a riverbank waiting for dog teams throughout our childhoods, but it was awesome. It was so much fun,” Darcy said Thursday while standing a snowball’s throw from the Chena River’s bank.

Alex recalls how in 1985, after countless hours waiting for Joe Runyan to arrive, Donna got tired of the kids’ whining about being cold and loaded them up to return home.

“As we got in to the station wagon, we were driving away and we heard on KUAC, ‘and here comes Joe Runyan,’” the red-bearded Alex said with a laugh. “We were driving away towards Salcha, probably like five minutes away.”

Following in his father’s footsteps is more rewarding than difficult, Alex said.

“I didn’t know how to delegate and multitask before I got this job, and now I do,” Alex said.

Leo’s style?

“He made it all look easy. He was one of those people that didn’t get excited. He didn’t fire off in any direction until he’d heard everything,” said Alex, who works as a seasonal brush cutter for GVEA. “Then when he said anything, it would be final.

“I’m learnin’ that. I’ve never had this much responsibility before but I see how effective it is to not be loud and firing off instructions quickly.”

Being race starter in the 2004 race so soon after Leo’s death was painful, Alex said.

“That was the hardest one, I think,” Alex said. “This (year) is happiness involved with memories of dad. At that point it was still raw. … But now it’s another way to honor him to do something that he did, and do it well.”

Darcy, who followed virtually the entire Quest this year from Whitehorse to Fairbanks, found herself reminded of Leo regularly.

“Exact locations I’ve seen him in the past, standing outside the Circle City checkpoint, unloading a barrel of av (aviation) gas,” said Darcy, who found herself wishing Leo was there to help.

Darcy fondly recalls Quest parties where she helped complete mundane tasks such as turning thousands of booties inside out or cutting countless strips of reflectors for trail markers.

But a conversation in Central under the northern lights with a volunteer from Yellowknife, Northwest Territories, stands out.

“He just gushed about (Leo) representing the spirit of the race and the spirit of the North,” said Darcy. “Everyone wants to hear things like that about someone they love.”

One of Donna’s best recollections is when Leo invited her to join him on the entire trail for the first time in 1998. Donna hesitated, fearing she’d be in Leo’s way.

“I was flattered (when he asked) because he meant it when he said ‘You can help me.’ I took all my cues from him. He was very quiet, and I’m not,” Donna said, recalling sleeping in the truck that year. “It was just so great to see all the places I had heard about. And then I got to go every year after that.”

Eleven years earlier, Donna surprised Leo by flying with the kids into Eagle during the race. At first she just hid in a corner and watched her husband work.

As race marshal “you’ve got to be able to say no” but Leo did so with tact and grace, said Donna.

Does Donna think about Leo much during the Quest?

“Oh God, yes, pretty much all the time,” Donna said last week at the Dawson City checkpoint. “I really enjoy talking about the Quest, I guess, because it makes me think about Leo. They’re excellent memories.”

Contact staff writer Matias Saari at 459-7591 or msaari@newsminer.com.

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