Seaveys' long Iditarod line goes on

Published on March 4th, 2010

By LEW FREEDMAN

One thing Mitch Seavey didn't expect in the final miles of the 2009 Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race was to be looking over his shoulder for his son Dallas.

He knew the kid was a comer, but not this fast.

Mitch, the 2004 champion in the world's most prestigious sled-dog race, out-lasted his son to finish fourth, but Dallas, one of six members by heritage or marriage of the Seward Seavey clan to race in the Iditarod, put on a late burst of speed to place a career-best sixth.

"The dogs reacted like I thought they would," said Dallas of his final push into Nome that resulted in passing several mushers and nearly pressuring his dad. "That was the best-case scenario. That was kind of what I hoped for. I was a little surprised it worked out the way it did."

Mitch and Dallas are back for more in the 2010 race scheduled for a ceremonial start on Fourth Avenue in Anchorage on Saturday morning. This will be Mitch's 17th race and he has placed in the top 10 seven times in a row. This will be Dallas' fourth race following his huge breakthrough last year. He was 51st and 41st in his first two attempts to conquer the 1,100-mile trail.

The name Seavey and the Iditarod are virtually synonymous. Dan Seavey, a Seward school teacher, competed in the first Iditarod in 1973. The Seaveys were also pioneers in offering sled-dog rides to tourists in the summer, a business started in 1993 and still going strong. Mitch took over the racing in the 1990s and his sons have all given the Iditarod a whirl. But Dallas, now 22, has emerged as a next-generation contender.

Mitch, 50, is not quite ready to fade into the background, however. He is still a serious racer hoping to claim another title. The Iditarod, he admits, is in his blood.

"I really do anticipate the Iditarod and look forward to it each year," Mitch said. "Winning really does change the perspective. I didn't know if I was ever going to be a winning operation. I've gotten over the idea of predicting will I win or if I can win. I know I have the ability to win."

A few weeks before the Iditarod start, Mitch took his team on a 500-mile camping trip. It was his final major tune-up, what he calls his "mini-Iditarod." He roamed around the Mat-Su Valley and finished up at Dallas', who is now living in Willow.

The training run culminated a season's worth of preparation when weather and snow conditions cooperated to bring the dogs to a competitive pitch.

"I have had half-again as much training than I usually have," Mitch said. "I am feeling really excited about the race."

Growing up in Seward

Growing up in Seward, not ordinarily an Alaska sled-dog mecca, Dallas was immersed in Iditarod culture because of his family background. Besides grandpa and dad as role models, brothers Tyrell and Danny also competed and Dallas' wife, Jan, ran a team to Nome last year, too.

It is no accident that Dallas is the youngest musher ever to run the Iditarod, which has an 18-year-old minimum age rule. When he was 5 years old, he announced to the family that he was going to enter the Iditarod the moment he could. Somewhat bemused, Dallas' parents consulted a long-term calendar and was surprised to see that the year Dallas was due to turn 18, the Iditarod, which always begins the first Saturday in March, was scheduled start one day later.

"I knew for years," Dallas said of the likelihood of him being on the Iditarod starting line in 2005.

Sure enough, the teenager hit the starting line that year and he has swiftly gone out on his own and built his own kennel. Given the dog mushing connections in the Seavey household, Dallas said it inevitably swayed his lifestyle choices.

"It was kind of a given that I would do it (the Iditarod). We grew up in this, in the middle of this," he said.

Meaning he wasn't likely to choose curling as his favorite winter sport.

Last year, Dallas showed boldness on the trail with his willingness to mush his team through harsh weather. He husbanded the team's energy and passed others either moving slowly or who had stalled out.

"I'm always going to try for a big push at the end," he said.

One day that might mean going head-to-head with dad from Safety over the last 22 miles to the Front Street finisher's arch.

"If we're both out there trying to win, that would be interesting," Mitch said. "It's not likely that we'd finish 1-2. But wouldn't that be something?"

Such a scenario would write a new chapter in Iditarod history.