Passing on the Iditarod Trail

In case you are wondering, I have been compiling information for this blog from many sources.  One of my favorites is Danny Seavey on the Seavey's IdidaRide Sled Dog Tours page.  Coming from a huge mushing family he has a really good way of giving information that gives both the basics and some personal information for a fun, informative post.  I'm recreating a lot of them here for you.  Here is a post from this morning that I thought you would like.

Could you comment on how teams pass each other on the trail? Is there a "right of way" protocol? Do they wait until trail widens?The rules say that when one team comes up behind another, the passing musher can demand the right-of way-by yelling "Trail." Depending on how wide the trail is, the front musher will either stop completely, or better yet, just slow way down. Passes are generally much cleaner if the front team is still moving. If they stop, the stopped dogs sometimes try to nip at the team going by.

The exception is "No Man's Land," generally the last couple miles of the race where there is no right-of-way. It's Ben Hur style racing from there, part of why races often finish on lakes, rivers or streets where it's nice and wide.

The mushers are very cooperative. It's in both team's best interest to make sure the pass is clean, safe, and the faster team gets in front. Often the slower team will draft, meaning both teams will speed up after the pass.

The only time I can remember having trouble passing was going to Finger Lake a few Iditarod's ago. I came up behind a team stopped on a huge swamp. The trail was narrow, but I could have easily passed. Right as I got there, the musher came running back to the sled and took off. Kind of a odd move, especially since we were in 60somethingth place. I followed him for a while, but he stopped again in half a mile where I couldn't pass. I was getting a little frustrated, and asked for the trail. He came up with one reason after another I couldn't pass, and this went on for half an hour. Finally, I just went up there on one of the stops, and realized the poor guy was having a panic attack. It was his first Iditarod, and he'd leased a team. His leaders kept turning around and starting fights with the swing dogs.

To make matters worse, he was having a really hard time with the huge open space, I guess he was a city kid. He thought I was the last team, and wasn't about to let me out of sight. He thought he was going to die out in that swamp. Of course the dogs recognized the panic, and we're simply doing what dogs do: establishing a new pack order since the human clearly wasn't in charge.

We finally got him into the checkpoint where he scratched, and hasn't been back.

Danny