Will shares some stories of the journey from his first run to Finger Lake, and then records audio in the checkpoint itself. Runaway dogs, exciting trail snacks, and inexplicable gatorade-flavored meals.

Listen on Apple Podcasts • View Plain Transcript

Check out the emails that Buddies received as Will was headed into Finger Lake!

[show_more more="View Transcript" less="Hide Transcript"]

Onward and Other Directions

Episode 3: Finger Lake

Hi, it's Will again. Last time we were here, I had just taken off on the very first leg of my very first Iditarod, one of the longest sled dog races in the world. Me and my team of 14 dogs, AKA my best friends recorded some audio about halfway into that very first run. I rambled about a lot of things. My poor spouse, Shawn, who is very logical, is at wit's end trying to keep track of all these conversations, and I got passed by several teams.

For that first run, I stuck to my game plan pretty tightly. Shortly after the recording I made, my team and I pass through Yentna station, the first sort of checkpoint of the race. It's a "sort-of" checkpoint because there are no drop bags there. Drop bags are the bags that are flown ahead of teams down the trail. There is no way a sled could carry the amount of food that sled dogs eat during a race like this.

We packed and mailed about 1200 pounds for this race, and we were very much on the light side of what folks normally pack. Most of that weight is kibble and meat. The dogs eat around 10,000 calories a day while they race. Other supplies that are sent in drop bags or things like blankets to make the dogs cozy at the checkpoints while they rest, human meals and snacks, batteries, gloves, vet supplies, and much more.

While Yentna Station did not have bags, it did provide straw and heet -- HEET -- better known as antifreeze. We burn that in specially made cookers to melt snow and boil water for the dog's food. It's an essential component of long-distance mushing. The Iditarod provides heat along the whole trail, including Yentna. As my race plan dictated, I grabbed both straw and heet in Yentna.

I was a little surprised to see how close to the start Yentna it was. It registered on my GPS is only 40 miles or so from the start line. According to what the race had told us, it ought to have been about 50 miles. I wondered if Skwentna, the first official actual checkpoint, would really be 72 miles as it was predicted to be.

Regardless, my race plan called for me to camp around or just after 50 miles. I debated continuing all the way to Skwentna.

I talked in the first recording about how warm the first day was. But by the time I hit Yentna, the sun was starting to set, and the temperature was dropping. The dogs were much happier to have some cooler weather and were starting to move well. Its 72-mile run wouldn't be entirely out of their wheelhouse. But the whole reason for my plan to camp before Skwentna was to avoid the notorious hullabaloo that happens with the whole field of mushers camped at the first checkpoint.