Out of the gate
Just minutes before the start of the 2006 Yukon Quest International Sled Dog Race late Saturday morning, it was business as usual for the mushers.
In the dog yard positioned a few hundred feet away from the Chena River start chute under the Cushman Street Bridge, there was a flurry of activity as 22 mushers prepared their teams for the trail.
But in the middle of all the pre-race chaos and mayhem of the dog yard—packed full of race officials, fans, media, handlers and barking dogs—it was the mushers who appeared most at ease.
“I’m usually pretty calm before a race,” said Sebastian Schnuelle, Whitehorse, Yukon, a veteran who drove the last dog team onto the Chena wearing bib No. 22. “It takes time to get into a groove.
“All the preparations, all the little worries, you’ve just got to go with what you have. Once you pull the hook and get going, you’ve made the last of your choices.”
This is Schnuelle’s fourth Quest. He scratched in 1999, his rookie run. He improved to ninth last year after finishing 10th in 2004. His team has 10 dogs that have completed at least one 1,000-mile race.
“They’re all really mellow,” Schnuelle said. “It’s hard to tell yet how they’ll do.”
Since the Quest began, the 1,000-mile sled dog race between Fairbanks and Whitehorse has been about making history—and remembering it.
The trail, which runs over some of the roughest and most remote terrain in North America, traverses old mail and gold rush routes throughout Alaska and the Yukon.
Those routes provided a lifeline to the outside world, a lifeline which sustained the miners and trappers who lived and worked in some of the coldest, bleakest conditions imaginable.
Back then, mushing was the only way to get supplies, food and mail. It was the only way to travel. It was the only way to survive.
Now, mushing on those trails is all about the Quest. Now, it’s all about the race.
Veteran Carcross, Yukon, musher William Kleedehn was a popular man before the race, shaking hands with numerous fans and well-wishers as he prepared his team for launch.
Kleedehn was last year’s runner-up, chasing defending champion Lance Mackey all the way to the finish line before a last-day charge came up just eight minutes short.
“My own chances, in theory, on paper, are just as good as they were last year,” said Kleedehn, in his 10th Quest and still seeking the elusive first win.
“All but two of my dogs are the same as last year.”
Asked who he thinks might be the favorite to win this year, Kleedehn mentioned Mackey and three-time Quest champion Hans Gatt, who led the field into the first checkpoint at Angel Creek on Saturday night.
Schnuelle also said Mackey and Gatt are potential winners, but he has a favorite of his own: Gerry Willomitzer.
“I’d like to see Gerry win,” Schnuelle said, “because he’s my friend and because his time is coming. Really, they all have a chance. The good thing is, we all know each other and we are all friends.”
Willomitzer, a veteran musher from Shallow Bay, Yukon, led during a portion of last year’s race and was the first out of Eagle, about 400 miles from the finish. His sled was damaged on the way to Circle, though, and he eventually finished sixth. He finished 12th in his rookie run in 2004.
“They look pretty good right now,” Willomitzer said as he put booties on his dogs’ feet. “But it’s a long way.”
Willomitzer smiled when asked if he thinks he’s the favorite to win.
“The thought has crossed my mind, to be sure,” Willomitzer said. “I think I have a chance. I’ve got to play the cards right, though. And then of course, get a good bit of luck.”