Truckload Authority - Winter 2014/15

Dallas after winning the Yukon Quest, 2011
Leaving the Unalakleet checkpoint
during the 2012 Iditarod
Dallas and Beatle
“Selfreezie!”
Jim Keller, Dallas, Rosanne Keller
Dallas and his wife Jen
Dallas with lead dogs, Beatle and Diesel
there, but it meant a lot of things had to go right. And
we’re very fortunate that we achieved that goal.
“This year, we’ve had the best team we’ve ever had
and next year will be even better than this. And as more
and more young dogs that have gone through our programs
join the racing team, our team becomes stronger
and stronger every year. Having that sponsorship first of
all is what allowed me to get into mushing as a career,
and without the Kellers, I probably still wouldn’t be at
this point; I’d still be trying to figure out a business plan
that would allow me to start racing when I was 30 or 35,
which is more common. There’s no replacement for having
a sponsor like the Kellers and
it’s just a phenomenal place where
you have to do things and have to
change things that’s not best for the
team for want of money but we’ve
been able to bridge that gap every
time with the Kellers.”
Seavey’s relationship with the
Kellers led to the autobiography,
“Born to Mush.” The book is
available through amazon.com or
by going to Iditarod.jjkeller.com.
With the stage now set, let’s return to the
fateful March day in the year of our Lord 2014,
and conclude the tale that will live in Iditarod
lore forever. This wise, confident, passionate,
patient and freezing young Iditarod racer
decides it’s time to leave White Mountain and trek the
final 76 miles and claim his third-place trophy.
After all, he knows King has reached White Mountain
first and a vast majority of the time the musher who
gets to White Mountain first wins the race.
At the time, King was about one hour ahead of
Zirkle, who was two hours ahead of Seavey.
“I felt we had accomplished our goal of traveling this
trail as fast as my team was capable of,” Seavey recalls.
“And they were all happy and strong. We were going to
push to the finish line whether we caught either of the
other two teams. We race on principle, so it doesn’t matter
if Aliy is two hours ahead of us we’re still going to run our
race and get to the finish line as quickly as possible.”
So off they went, the young musher and his team.But
they quickly found themselves in danger. Within about 30
miles of leaving White Mountain, going over the hills before
they reached the coast near Nome, the wind started
picking up very strongly, blowing them off the trail. Seavey
adjusted the instruments on his sled and focused on getting
the team to the finish line. He knew this terrain well,
and knew the mountains there formed a tunnel through
which the wind whipped almost ceaselessly.
“Our goal now, realizing this run was going to be
harder than we anticipated, was to ration our energy
to make sure we could reach the finish line in one shot
without stopping, taking a break or stopping to refuel,”
Seavey said.
By the time they got about 40 miles into the final
push, the wind became an “absolute hurricane.”
“We’re trying to get to the finish line, but more importantly,
we’re just trying to survive,” Seavey recalled
recently as though it had happened only yesterday. “On
the left side, we have about a quarter mile of glare from
sea ice and then open black water into the Bering Sea.
On the right side we have a little icy view, a little driftwood
and the wind coming from a couple of mountains, gusting
up to 60 miles an hour coming from the north, which
is on our right trying to blow us out into that open water.”
His dogs have no traction; there is the glare and
the driftwood. The conditions are only worsening by the
second.
“Every time the wind gusted, the dogs would pretty