MEDIA + PRESS
The White Wall // The New Yorker // April 22, 2013
At 11:21 p.m. on the third day of this year’s Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race, Dallas Seavey, the reigning champion, rode into the village of Takotna, Alaska, standing behind the handlebars of a sled pulled by fourteen huskies, in rows of two. “Warm out,” he said. A thermometer attached to his sled had indicated thirty-eight degrees, in the shade, during his approach that afternoon—forty or fifty degrees warmer than the dogs would have preferred. A volunteer from among the village’s fifty residents escorted Seavey and his team up a hill and around to the back of the church, a wood-frame barn that could have passed for an Elks’ lodge, and later delivered a couple of large bags, one containing bales of straw and the other dog food. Unsheathing his knife, he opened the bags, scattered the straw for his team to bed down on, and then began unfastening the Velcro straps around the dogs’ booties, which he tossed into a pile. It let off steam.
Seavey is twenty-six, a puppy by competitive mushing’s wizened standards, and reluctant to grow the kind of mustache that collects snow and sprouts icicles on long runs, making for a dramatic arrival at race checkpoints. He has a square jaw and light-brown hair that extends a couple of inches below the back of his hat. Walking first to the front of the towline, Seavey unclipped his lead dogs, Diesel and Beatle, and escorted them back to some straw nearer the middle of the pack. “When they’re up front, they’re on duty,” he explained. “When we stop, I take them out, so that they know they’re not responsible anymore.”
Returning to his sled, Seavey sifted through the gear stored in front—camping stove, sleeping bag, axe—until he had located a bottle of powder containing what he referred to as his “secret weapon,” a homeopathic remedy called arnica, which he uses for treating canine joint and muscle aches. He began addressing his dogs individually, first flexing their paws, then extending their elbows and stretching their shoulders, and, finally, massaging their jaws open, so that he could deploy his weapon by the capful. “How you doing, Casper? You getting tired? . . . K., Schooner, open up. . . . Hey, Lincoln, you’re being all coöperative today, aren’t you?” . . .VISIT WEBSITE >
Dallas Seavey inc. // Alaskan Dispatch // July 17, 2012
One step into his dog lot carved beneath a grove of birch trees, and 2012 Iditarod champion Dallas Seavey's voice is overtaken by the excited yips, barks and wails of his furry fleet. Ears perk. Eyes squint. Tails wag. In worn Carhartt jeans and a pair of running shoes, the star athlete and dog driver moves past his adoring fans, taking time for a head pat here, an ear scratch there -- moments of affection between teammates.
At 25 years old, Seavey's accomplishment this March as the youngest musher to ever win the Iditarod -- a nearly 1,000 mile mountain-to-sea sled dog race across the rugged expanse of the Last Frontier -- isn't lost on him. But there is a business-like, matter-of-fact side to the former wrestling champion, who brings as much precision as he does passion to his racing strategy.
Four months after pulling under the burled arch in Nome in the lead, Seavey is as busy as ever. The same mind that built a championship kennel with second-hand dogs, affectionately known as "the scrubs," over the course of only four years is now in multi-tasking hyperdrive. In addition to keeping his dogs fit and tending to puppies, the husband and father is making celebrity appearances, creating promotional videos, running marathons, writing a book and trying to widen the fan base for the sport of mushing.
Dallas Seavey is youngest musher to win Iditarod // USA Today // March 14, 2012
NOME, Alaska (AP) — Mushers always pose with their lead dogs under the burled arch in Nome, Alaska, after winning the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race.
When Dallas Seavey won Tuesday, he posed with Diesel and Guinness, but he could have used a little more podium space.
"I had five lead dogs on this team, and I had to have every single one of them to do their parts of the race," Seavey said shortly after becoming the youngest musher to win the race in its 40-year history.
Seavey turned 25 on March 4, the day the race officially started north of Anchorage. He was the first musher to reach Nome, his nine dogs trotting under the famous burled-arch finish line in the Bering Sea coastal community at 7:29 p.m. Tuesday.
Some dogs are better in bad weather, others when speed is needed.
Guinness was only lead for a short bit of the race, but earned the podium spot because of her sure-footedness on glacier ice near the Rohn checkpoint.VISIT WEBSITE >