Behind the Paws

Behind the Paws

Helping the heroes of Alaska's toughest 300-mile sled dog race

By Angela Boesche

Every January the snow-packed parking lots of Glennallen, Alaska, fill with trucks carrying hundreds of barking, jumping sled dogs and their mushers. Every dog is bursting with energy, ready to run the Copper Basin 300, Alaska’s toughest sled race. There to greet the dogs and mushers and to thoroughly check every paw the day before the race is head veterinarian Dr. Nina Hansen and her team of veterinary volunteers.

“It’s chaotic, and I love it!” Hansen says.

A 2003 animal sciences graduate, Hansen went on to obtain a doctorate of veterinary medicine from the University of Illinois in 2007. Over the past nine years, as the head veterinarian for the Copper Basin 300, she has seen the race double in size, with 43 teams competing in 2018.

It still brings tears to my eyes to watch a healthy dog team cross the finish line after 300 miles with dogs banging their harnesses, wanting to keep going.

A quick run of the math for 43 teams (12 dogs per team) tells us that Hansen must do a complete exam on 2,064 paws before the race starts. Combine those 516 dogs with the buzz of a community coming together to prepare food, greet old friends, and get ready for race day, and “chaotic” might be an understatement. Luckily, Hansen’s patients seem eager to cooperate.

“These are the happiest, most socialized dogs in the world,” she says. “They are used to being handled daily, and most will kiss you on the face while you examine them.”

The health inspections don’t end at the starting line. As with any race, a number of issues can come up along the 300-mile trail. Lameness, whether from fatigue or injury, is one of the most common. Mushers are on the lookout for dangerous spots on the snowy trail, including “moose holes,” deep hoofprints where dogs could stumble and injure themselves.

To ensure the safety of both mushers and dogs, sled teams stop at a series of checkpoints during the race. Waiting at each checkpoint is a team of volunteer veterinarians ready to inspect paws, listen to any musher concerns, and make sure the dogs are staying hydrated and healthy.

One of this year’s volunteers was Dr. Kelli Kramer, who graduated from the College of ACES with a degree in animal sciences in 2001 and from the U of I College of Veterinary Medicine in 2007. Kramer was impressed with the consistent quality of care she observed from both mushers and veterinarians at the checkpoints.

Dr. Kelli Kramer (l) and Dr. Nina Hansen show off their Illini pride at the Copper Basin 300.

“On arrival at each checkpoint the mushers always tend to their dogs first,” Kramer says. “They touch every dog, refer to every dog by name, talk to them as they’re doing things, praise and kiss them. It’s like the mushers and dogs are buddies on the trail, and they’re just going about their day.”

The first-place team usually completes the 300-mile race in roughly 48 hours, while the last team, or the “red lantern,” might take over 72 hours to finish. While the mushers and their dogs must take a minimum number of rest hours, the veterinarians need to be on call the entire time.

Hansen says, “I warn rookie vets not to expect to sleep at all the first night.”

While lack of sleep, temperatures below freezing, and falling snow may sound like a grueling combination, Hansen and Kramer agree that the sense of community the race brings out makes the experience worth the discomfort. That sense of community was even more tangible than usual this year.

The Mendeltna Creek Lodge, traditionally a checkpoint for the race, burned down a month before the race. Hansen says the situation was devastating; the lodge owners lost not only their home, but two pets.

The owners and a crew of volunteers still managed to set up a welcoming checkpoint. Kramer describes the scene as an interesting juxtaposition; despite the cold ashes and rubble left from the fire, the atmosphere was still uplifting to the spirits of weary mushers and volunteers.

“People brought in food and warming tents,” Kramer recalls. “The fireplace was still standing, even after the lodge burned down. So the hosts built a fire and had a cozy area for people to come sit and warm up.”

As the race began winding down, folks started gathering at a church near the finish line. From the first team in to the red lantern 36 hours later, volunteers and spectators cheered each one’s return and provided food to everyone who had been out on the trail.

While the revelry is certainly a high point of the race, the true excitement comes with every animal that sprints back into Glennallen.

“It still brings tears to my eyes,” Hansen says, “to watch a healthy dog team cross the finish line after 300 miles with dogs banging their harnesses, wanting to keep going.”

The Alaskan beauty, the infectious sense of community, and the interactions with dogs and mushers made for an unforgettable combination for Kramer. She hopes to experience them again one year.

Fall 2018 | ACES@Illinois | 15