Related story: You don't have to be there in March to capture the Iditarod experience

From a remote cabin in McMillan, Mich., Rodney Whaley sat close to a small receiver in order to talk on his cell phone. His electricity runs by generator, and his cell phone works thanks to a satellite dish.

By March 1, this will be considered luxury living.

On Saturday, Whaley, 56, begins Alaska’s athletic claim to fame — the 1,159-mile Iditarod. But for the past five months the Army National Guardsman from Tennessee lived and trained in an isolated part of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula with his team of 16 sled dogs.

This is Whaley’s first attempt at what is called “The Last Great Race,” and he is one of 102 people to qualify for the race and the first Tennessean to do so. With the difficulty that lies ahead, his goal is to simply cross the finish line. With his dogs he will cross mountains, rivers and gorges, and he'll camp in the wilderness for 10 to 17 days.

“My biggest apprehension is it could be 40 below zero and going into the wind and you are just trying to survive,” Whaley said.

Whaley, a master sergeant and 24-year veteran of the National Guard, was most recently an inspector general. But ever since he brought up the idea of sponsoring an Iditarod team to the service, training, racing and publicity became Whaley’s official tour of duty.

This sponsorship was a great way for the Guard to get involved in Alaska, said Mike Jones, chief of Army Guard recruiting and retention. Besides their NASCAR sponsorship of Dale Earnhardt Jr., the Guard prefers to have a local engagement with communities, he said. After turning Whaley down three times over five years, the Guard decided to go forth with the sponsorship.

“He’s not going to take the opportunity lightly," Jones said. “He knows this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

Previously, Whaley’s other assignments with the Guard included recruiting, personnel and playing in the U.S. Army Band. His on-the-job duties have never included surviving in the arctic wild.

“I was the hornblower in the band,” Whaley laughed, “but I’ve been to infantry school.”

During the race from Anchorage to Nome, Whaley will travel 18 to 112 miles per leg before coming to a checkpoint. There are 25 checkpoints throughout the race, but racers will pick and choose at which ones they will stay to rest and eat.

When he decides to camp, Whaley is stopped for about eight hours. It takes about an hour to settle in and an hour to get started again; the rest of the time is for sleep. He takes protective booties off each of the dogs’ paws and spreads straw for them to make beds. He melts snow on his portable cooker to get water. For the dogs he makes a kibble and meat mix. Whaley eats Meals, Ready to Eat (MREs) when the checkpoint doesn’t supply food.

Whaley said he and the dogs had to practice camping just as much as they practiced running.

“They [the dogs] learn how to camp,” he said. “They learn to get on that straw and sleep and when I put the booties on, it’s time to go.”

According to the official Iditarod Web site, each dog is checked by a veterinarian at each checkpoint. Racers must start the race with 16 dogs and must finish the race with no fewer than six dogs. Sick, injured or slow dogs can be left at checkpoints and are sent back to Anchorage.

Though his dog team belongs to Alcan Kennels in Michigan, months of training together has formed a tight bond between the dogs and musher.

“The more I run them, the more I work with them, you start to see different personalities,” Whaley said. “You can call their names and see them work a little harder.”

Al Hardman, owner of Alcan Kennels and a veteran of four Iditarods, is quick to offer advice to the rookie. But Hardman knows no matter what he tells Whaley, nothing can fully prepare him for his first Iditarod.

“Get as much rest as you can,” Hardman told Whaley, “and don’t make any decisions until you rest on it for awhile.” The race is physically exhausting, Hardman said, but mentally taxing as well. Hardman said Whaley is lined up with a strong team of dogs, and his big heart will help him through.

Whaley competed in junior dogsled races growing up in Alaska, but in his adult life — until now — has relied on winter vacations to let him practice the sport. He had to qualify for the Iditarod by completing two races equaling 500 miles total.

A veteran of marathons, Whaley knows pace is crucial to endurance races. His dogs run about eight miles per hour – a quick trot for them, but not a sprint, he said. At that pace, Whaley’s team could finish the Iditarod in about 145 hours, or six and a half days, if they traveled nonstop. But weather, rest and tricky terrain slow the team down to about two weeks or more.

“The scenery, together with the dogs,” is what Whaley said he is most looking forward to about the race. “But mostly the finish line.”

If there's no snow, just add wheels

How does a musher train for the Iditarod without snow?

On wheels.

A Tennessean racing the Iditarod, Alaska’s 1,159 mile dogsled race, sounds a bit like Jamaica producing a bobsled team. But that team made it to the Olympics, and Rodney Whaley, a master sergeant in the Tennessee Army National Guard, will be at the Iditarod’s Anchorage starting line on March 1. He is the first Tennessean to qualify for the race.

Before Whaley got full sponsorship from the Guard, which enabled him to train in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula with a team of trained dogs, he mushed through parkland in Tennessee with a dogsled on wheels.

Through the parks and around his home in Franklin, Tenn., Whaley is an interesting sight in this southern state. His four dogs, which are not on the Iditarod team, pull him across trails and pavement.

"I get a lot of people stopping and rolling down their windows," Whaley said. Children at bus stops love petting the dogs, he said, and they’ve won trophies in local holiday parades.

—Emily Brown

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