The Latest in iditarod

When Readers Say Mush, We Mush …

When Readers Say Mush, We Mush …

I am about to tell you a remarkable story that not only restores my faith in newspapers, newspaper readers and humanity in general, but also makes my dog extremely happy.

Here I was in my house Thursday morning. I had just returned from the Iditarod Sled Dog Race in Alaska, a wonderful assignment that, unfortunately, was being cut short so I could get to Florida and write about — ahem — spring training baseball.

“Well, dog,” I said to my golden retriever, as I unpacked the long underwear from my suitcase, “too bad I didn’t get to see the end of that race.”

When Readers Say Mush, We Mush …

Rumors Only Reach Finish Line in Iditarod

IDITAROD DIARY, CHAPTER 11:

In which we learn absolutely nothing, except that someone night be dead out there. NOME, Alaska — And the winner is . . .

Nobody?

“Have you heard anything?” someone asked in the confused race headquarters on Front Street, where this grueling Iditarod dogsled race was supposed to have ended already — and I was supposed to be heading back to Planet Earth. “What’s the latest?”

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