/ Archived Race Coverage / And so it begins…..

And so it begins…..

Countdown to Iditarod 2005

by June Price

03/02/2005

Pssst, the Iditarod is coming.

The first signs of its approach were subtle. If you're not looking for them, you probably don't even notice, at least at first. You wander thru Iditarod Headquarters and wonder at the hectic pace everyone seems to have adopted. Bags appear and disappear from the meeting room. Mysterious boxes with checkpoint names appear and disappear. Reams of blank paper disappear into the copy machine, to reappear with ever changing schedules and information. Intense, huddled conversations are the norm, not the exception. You notice a new urgency in everyone's step. Phones ring incessantly, abruptly ending conversations that have only just begun. Emails become a matter of importance, not just idle communication. "Hurry!" is the unspoken command.

Outside, a trailer appears in the visitor parking lot. Dog trucks begin to appear, with harried mushers and handlers hurrying dogs in and out. A year's dreams may ride on the results of the medical tests done within. One of the more fascinating observations is that visitors, often unaware of the identity of those harried souls sharing the parking lot with them, often wait until they pass to capture a photo of the static sign welcoming one and all to Iditarod Headquarters. Doug Swingley rates no more than a glance in competition with the statue of Joe Redington Sr. standing in the yard at Iditarod Headquarters. A teenage girl visitor, who tells me her favorite book is Gary Paulsen’s "Woodsong," is overheard commenting on how cute a young handler is, never realizing the musher with him is Paulsen. Even perennial fan favorite DeeDee Jonrowe passes unnoticed by most.

Welcome to Iditarod 2005. It’s a world where there’s so much going in within such a compressed period of time that it’s difficult to take it all in. It’s a world I hope to help bring a bit of to you in the next few weeks. I’ll be giving you a look at "Backstage Iditarod," trying to give you a greater insight into what is going on behind the scenes that makes this race happen as well as what’s going on in clear view. Coming up soon, a look at the final vet check before the race, a teacher workshop groups’ trip to Lynda Plettner’s kennel and, well, whatever is going on at Anchorage’s Millennium Hotel. There’s rarely a slow moment, so sit back, enjoy, and share the Iditarod with me.

So, let’s get started!

Dog Care: EKG’s and Bloodwork

Dog care, of course, is the mushers’ priority every day and hour of the year. The closer the Iditarod gets, however, the more meticulous it becomes. There has been a steady stream of dog trucks into and out of Iditarod Headquarters and a nondescript trailer sitting in its parking lot for the past few weeks. What is doing on inside the trailer is a series of tests that dogs hoping to win a spot on an Iditarod team must pass.

One of the first things you’ll notice is that each musher seems to approach the same chore, getting their dogs in and out as efficiently as possible, each approaches it a bit differently. Some unload and tie out all the dogs upfront. Others only remove the dogs from one side of the dog truck at a time. Others do it one or two dogs at a time. Some have help; others work alone. No matter how it’s done, however, the key is to do it in as stress-free a manner for the dogs as possible. All this activity is done under the supervision of vet tech Jan Bullock.

Once inside, the first step is often to check the dog for a microchip. All Iditarod dogs must be micro-chipped. Dogs who haven’t yet been micro-chipped are injected with a chip, each of which has a unique number and is recorded via a bar code label that’s placed on the musher’s dog sheet. These sheets will later be used to ID the dogs in the race. These chips, about the size of a grain of rice, are also responsible for reuniting dogs and their humans around the world.

That’s just the beginning for the dogs, however. After having been checked for a micro-chip, blood is drawn from a vein in the dog’s neck. This usually involves at least two vet techs, all volunteers. One holds the dogs steady and raises their heads slightly to make access to the veins easier. The other draws and labels the veils of blood. It’s then spun in what is called a centrifuge and shipped to an independent laboratory. Results are then sent to Chief Iditarod veterinarian Stu Nelson, who disseminates the results to the mushers.

This particular test is known as a "general health scan." One of the most interesting things I discovered about this testing is how important the percentage of oxygen in the blood is. I asked Canadian musher Karen Ramstead, who runs Siberian Huskies, to explain it to me.

"One value that Iditarod mushers watch really closely is the HCT level," explained Ramstead. "This is a measure of the red blood cell concentration in circulating blood. " The purpose of red blood cells is to carry oxygen to the other cells in the body. The higher the level, the better.

Why is this so important?

"Dogs with higher HCT levels will recover faster and be able to work harder. I have watched mushers pick dog teams, or at least eliminate dogs from their final sixteen, just because of a ‘low normal’ HCT value. The acceptable range on this test is 38 - 54. Well-conditioned sled dogs should generally be well over 40."

Iditarod veterinarians, of course, study this sort of thing constantly. The average pre race value on all dogs finishing the Iditarod last year was in the forties. I hope to catch up to the Iditarod’s Chief Vet Stu Nelson and find out how that compares to the average pet dog.

Once the blood tests are done, the dog moves on to a table usually manned by Bullock. They’re about to have an EKG, electrocardiogram, administered. A portable cardiograph computer that prints out the results of the test is used. The dogs are laid on their sides on a table, often with the musher or a handler known to the dog at their head. This is to reassure the dog.

Dogs that have been through the test before are often rather blasé while "rookies" are wide eyed and nervous as they are lifted to the table. The key for the technicians is to move slowly and calmly as the dog is lifted and then laid on its side. One it is on its side and still, small metal clips are connected to pulse points. The edges of the clips are filed off for comfort and an alcohol based spray is frequently applied to the fur to allow for more precise readouts. Bullock usually mans the cardiograph and is quick to run another scan if any irregularities are seen. Since all it may take to cause this is a simple movement by the dog at the wrong time, even a fiercely wagging tail, this is important. Accuracy is a must and Bullock estimates that at least two dog lives are saved each year as a result of these tests, tests that have revealed a hitherto unseen problem. The results are mailed to an independent laboratory and, as with the blood tests, disseminated by Nelson when he receives it.