Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
— 17 —
Dogs and Beans
O Lord give my dogs / the strength to continue on / and me the knowledge to sur-
vive.
—Richard Burmeister, “The Musher's Prayer”
QAEY WILLIAMS HAS BEEN
standing in line in front of the Fourth Avenue Theater in An-
chorage since eight am. It is the first Saturday in March. She is armed with a folding chair,
a thermos of cocoa, and a copy of
The Epic of Gilgamesh
. “And some romance novels,”
she adds. Qaey is prepared, and a good thing, too, since the Empty Bowl doesn't open up
for business until 11:30 a.m., two and a half hours away.
I can hardly hear her over the yipping, yapping, and yelping of dogs.
In Alaska, the first Saturday in March is reserved for the ceremonial start of the Iditarod
Trail Sled Dog Race, when two blocks of downtown Anchorage become the center of the
mushing world. Having been a mushing fan since the days of George Attla and Dr. Roland
Lombard, I never miss it. I park on F near 9
th
and walk down to wedge my way into the
crowd on the sidewalks of 4
th
Avenue, which between the curbs is closed to everyone ex-
cept Iditarod mushers and their amazing dogs, mutts to the American Kennel Club, heroes
to the rest of the world. It is even more crowded this year because of all the athletes in town
for the Special Olympics. I hear Spanish, Portuguese, French, Russian spoken all around
me by excited young men and women dressed in brightly colored team uniforms.
