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Twelve dogs, a sled, and your wits versus 1,023 miles of danger, snow, ice, and wilderness. The Yukon Quest is possibly the toughest race on earth. Held earlier, farther inland, and at a more northerly latitude than its famous cousin, the Iditarod, mushers on the Yukon Quest routinely experience temperatures dropping to 40 below zero, with 50 below not uncommon. Winning isn't everything; just finishing is an achievement in itself. John Balzar tells the story of the Quest, the dogs, and the mushers in
Yukon Alone.
Balzar, a roving correspondent for The Los Angeles Times, volunteered to act as the press liaison for the 1998 Yukon Quest. As such, he traveled the length of the trail, sharing cabin floors with resting mushers, shivering as temperatures dropped to 50 below, and becoming somewhat delirious from sleep deprivation. Balzar does an excellent job of capturing the frozen feel of the race:
The visibility worsens and now Bruce cannot see his leaders in the swirling merger of snowpack and wind. He searches anxiously for a glimpse of a wooden stake that will tell him that his dogs have not wandered off the trail, perhaps to the edge of a cliff. Bruce is not conscious of time or of distance, but only of the wind in his face. The dogs appear to be moving forward, but there is no way to measure progress.
He also paints warm portraits of the mushers--men and women like Mike King, a 37-year-old biker with a Harley-Davidson patch on his sled bag and a tattoo of the Quest trail covering one third of his back; William Kleedehn, who finished seventh in the 1998 race despite his prosthetic leg; Aliy Zirkle, a rookie musher who recovered from losing a dog to finish the race.
Balzar describes the Quest as "a mixture of celebration and ordeal"; Yukon Alone will inspire a mixture of envy, admiration, and relief. Envy of the free-spirited mushers, admiration of their strength and dedication, and relief that they're the ones fighting their way up American Summit in a blizzard with a 70-below wind chill. A gripping read. Mush on! --Sunny Delaney
From Kirkus Reviews
A fascinating look at the Yukon Quest International Sled Dog Race, a lonely and often dangerous trek in freezing temperatures over 1,023 miles of daunting wildlands from Whitehorse, Canada, to Fairbanks, Alaska. Traditionalists created the Yukon Quest some 15 years ago as a counterpoint to the commercialized Iditarod, and as a way of celebrating mushing in its raw form. A roving correspondent for the Los Angeles Times, Balzar devoted more than half a year getting to know the male and female drivers of the 1998 race and following them along the racing trail. Here he presents a firsthand account of the race, addresses social issues such as the ongoing debate between animal-rights advocates and the partisans of the sport (he sides with the mushers), and offers historical facts about the Yukon Territoryin particular, the Gold Rush of the late 1800s. But Balzar is at his best when he focuses on the mushers, showing the details involved in devising a game plan (from selecting proper equipment to caring for and handling the dogs), and providing clues to the mindset needed to enter and endure such a race. Besides an adventurous spirit and a love for the wild country, mushers must also share a symbiotic relationship with their dog team. And while the drivers can't truly prepare for such life-threatening problems as losing a dog, succumbing to hallucinations, or becoming disoriented from the cold and exhaustion, they must be prepared to respond to any threat. A harrowing experience by the eventual winner near the end of the race illustrates just how perilous it can be for even the best- prepared. As a bonus, Balzar creates wondrous landscapes of the wild north country, depicting even more dramatically the cold, solitary ordeal of the courageous drivers and dogs who commit themselves to this demanding race. (Maps, not seen) --
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