The 'Last Great Race'

Local brothers work as 'all-access' guides to the Iditarod

By DAVID ERICKSON / Whitefish Pilot

The Iditarod is unlike any other event in the world. It is a primitive, animal-powered 1,150-mile race over some of the most extreme and awe-inspiring terrain known to man — jagged, snow-capped mountain ranges, frozen swamps and rivers, thick boreal forests, desolate tundra and windswept coastline.

Throw in subzero temperatures, screaming winds, long hours of darkness, treacherous climbs and wild beasts. Scattered Eskimo villages are the only connection to civilization. This is Alaska, where man and animal are pitted against nature in a contest of epic proportions.

Two local brothers, Ryan and Brendan Friel, have been lucky enough to have an up-close and personal ticket to this legendary race for the last five years. They work for Sky Trekking Alaska, a company that takes clients from around the world on a full-length trip to witness Iditarod competitors in their element.

"It's outrageous," Ryan said. "Even as I'm telling you this, I can't believe I actually just did that. Every time I do it, I am just taken away by the scope and grandeur of everything."

Ryan said he and his brother hooked up with the dream job through another great gig — flyfishing guiding. Both men work the rivers in the summer, and the company needed someone to guide their 12-day Iditarod Expedition Trek.

"The company was started by a bunch of longtime Alaskan bush-pilots, and they have a lot of race connections," Ryan said. "So we get to follow the entire course of the race and stop at 10 or 11 of the 25 checkpoints. We fly low over the trail and actually watch the race. It's a once-in-a-lifetime trip for the clients, and for us as well, actually. We take them over the highest mountains in North America, unparalleled terrain, and we get a behind-the-scenes look at the race."

Brendan said the company caters to customers from places like Switzerland, Columbia and California.

"We even had a gold miner from Australia this year," Brendan said.

"We pick them up in Anchorage, so they can see the ceremonial start to the race," Ryan said. "They get to handle the dogs and talk with the dog-mushers."

From there, the trip gets markedly more exciting, Ryan said.

"We use De Havilland Beavers (single-engine airplanes) with wheel-skis to fly over the Alaska Range, in central Alaska," Ryan said. "We continue flying north to the Yukon River, and then out to the Bering Sea coast to watch the finish of the race in Nome. We see places that most native Alaskans never see."

Friel said he and his brother handle logistics at every checkpoint, where the clients can watch the mushers come in and feed their dogs, roll out straw beds and plan their strategy for the next stretch. The clients pay upwards of $10,000 for the trip, so the brothers have to make sure they are well looked after.

"We tell them that we will be staying in the best accommodations available," Ryan said with a chuckle. "In Anchorage, that means a nice hotel. In Nome, though, that means a converted double-wide trailer."

Ryan said there was a lot of drama this year, such as when an Arctic blizzard stranded one of his groups in an Eskimo village.

"They had to find some locals and ask if they could have a place to sleep and something to eat," he said.

There was intrigue among the actual racers this year as well.

"What happened was, (eventual winner) Lance Mackey, who is just a hard-core blue-collar Alaskan, was in the lead, but (four-time champion) Jeff King was right behind him," Ryan recounted. "So Mackey came into one of the checkpoints and pretended to sleep. Jeff King came in, saw that he was sleeping, and he decided he could afford to lie down for a little while as well. Mackey waited until King was snoring, then sneaks out of town and goes on to win the race. When Jeff woke up, he was screaming, 'What the hell,' but it was totally legal. They used to do stuff like that in the '80s, but Mackey brought it back because he thought, 'There's no way I can beat this guy.'"

Ryan explained that the dogs and their mushers get as little as one hour of sleep each night while they're on the course, and most of the racing is done at night so the dogs don't overheat.

Back in Whitefish, Ryan works as a ski patroller at Whitefish Mountain Resort and sits on the city council, and Brendan manages the Bierstube in the winter. Both said the Iditarod experience is something they'll never forget.

"It was outrageous, standing on the coast of the Bering Sea, looking out at Russia," Ryan said. "At the finish in Nome, the winner, Mackey, came in at 3 a.m., so the whole town got up to watch him coming across the sea ice. They have a siren that goes off every time someone comes in. We also saw some spectacular northern lights over the Bering Sea. This was the best trip we've done, absolutely."

"It was wild," Brendan said. "It's an unbelievable experience."