The world’s most famous dog sled race is short on snow
Summary
When unseasonably warm temperatures left the Iditarod course unusable, organizers were forced to reconfigure a 1,128-mile course through the Alaskan wilderness. The result is a race like nothing before in the event’s 53-year history.
Over the course of more than half a century, the Iditarod dog sled race has grown into one of America’s iconic sporting events. Teams of mushers battle through blizzards, subzero temperatures and punishing winds to navigate a wild trail across Alaska during the dead of winter.
But when organizers were putting together this year’s edition, they ran into a critical problem that any kid who has ever ridden on a sled would understand. There wasn’t nearly enough snow.
The result is a race like nothing before in the Iditarod’s 53-year history. The new route, traced farther north, will last a record distance of 1,128 miles from Fairbanks to Nome. Only 33 mushers, tied for the fewest ever, are daring to tackle a trail that includes unusually long stretches along frozen rivers.
Even the ceremonial start over the weekend had to be pared down from its typical 11-mile path through Anchorage, where locals are known for throwing raucous “trailgates" as the sleds rush by.
Still, considering everything that had to be changed at the last moment, the mere fact that the race is even being held is something of a miracle. Replotting a course through tundra, wilderness and sea ice makes relocating an Iditarod far more complicated than moving practically any other sporting event—and organizers had only days to pull it off.
“We had to re-engineer the entire race," says CEO Rob Urbach. “But the Iditarod and challenges are synonymous."
Organizers first realized they were skating on thin ice last month when it became clear that one stretch of the course, some 200 miles from Anchorage, hadn’t seen any snowfall since late January. For the roughly 500 dogs pulling 33 mushers, the lack of permafrost poses a serious risk of injury that even the 100,000 pairs of booties used throughout the race couldn’t prevent. Instead of breezing across snow, they’d essentially be racing through mud and rocks. Back in 2014, teams had to drop out because their sleds weren’t made to handle the bare ground.
There was only one thing to do: Head north.
The unseasonably warm temperatures meant that in a matter of days, Iditarod officials had to redo preparation that typically takes months as a team of Trail Breakers redrew the race map and trekked around Alaska inspecting the course for themselves while replacing some 15,000 markers. The immense undertaking not only needs to connect the overall start to the finish line in Nome, it also requires standing up the numerous checkpoints that support mushers—with everything from hot water to hot pancakes—for an arduous journey that takes over a week to complete. (The best checkpoint is annually rewarded with the “Golden Clipboard.")
But changing 19 checkpoints was only a small part of the logistical nightmare. Because the main way to move supplies around is by air, the Iditarod operates an air force with 30 planes taking over 800 flights that needed to be rerouted, with hangars warm enough to house them in between. Livestreams had to be set up in areas where there’s no power, much less internet. There are even stretches along the route that don’t allow human waste, so they have to coordinate how to transport and dispose of it properly.
The attention to detail also includes canvassing the areas to ensure the competitive integrity of the event. For instance, they might discover little-known cabins that some mushers already know because they train on these trails—the type of edge that could make a crucial difference if all the racers weren’t aware of them.
“There’s all kinds of cascading decisions that had to happen after months of planning another route," Urbach says.
The Iditarod isn’t the only weather-dependent winter sporting event that has been radically reshaped by changing climate—the issue exists at all levels. At the 2022 Winter Olympics in Beijing, only 10% of the snow was natural, according to the International Olympic Committee. The head of skiing’s world governing body has warned of an “existential threat to skiing and snowboarding." And even the Elfstedentocht, a century-old speedskating race across 120 miles of frozen Dutch canals, hasn’t been held since 1997 due to insufficient ice.
The difference is that the modern Iditarod has turned finding a Plan B into its specialty.
“It’s amazing how much people can rise to the occasion," Urbach says. “In Alaska, it’s the biggest event…The Iditarod inspires so many people."
Write to Andrew Beaton at andrew.beaton@wsj.com and Joshua Robinson at Joshua.Robinson@wsj.com
