An Alaskan Wedding

Susan Butcher has her own day in Alaska. The first Saturday in March marks the start of the Iditarod Sled Dog Race that Susan made famous, and the State of Alaska has officially made it her day. She was a very special person and, for those of us who knew her well, there is a void since her untimely passing that can't be filled...except with memories.

Late summer holds one of those memories for me. On September 2, Susan married David Monson at their dog lot (that is what they're called) 140 miles or so northwest of Fairbanks. The wedding was a grand Alaskan affair and it marked Jane's first-ever trip to America's Last Frontier.

Jane says that her parents worried when I took her from the Other Washington to Seattle that she would ultimately end up in a snowbank in Alaska.  Despite my many trips there and my love of the wild country, she has managed to stay comfortably at home in our Magnolia neighborhood, with this unique exception.

I could not resist taking her to Susan's wedding which I was sure would be a once-in-a-lifetime occasion...and it was.. After some considerable coaxing, Jane packed her party dresses, stacked heels, fine coats and scarves and said "Ok, I'm ready."

When we landed in Fairbanks, the rental car counter was the next stop.  "Where're you headed?" was the first question from the counter person. "Susan Butcher's wedding." was my proud reply. "Not in our car, you won't!" as he snatched the contract right out of my hand. "You're on the haul road for the pipeline for over a hundred miles. that's nothing but rocks and mud."

So it was on to try the next rental company. "Where're you headed?" "Just in town for a few days," I replied. "First time up here?" "Nope.  I know where I'm going," Success! Off we went...very carefully...headed for Milepost 149.

Not far behind us was one of Susan's sponsors...an east coast gal who was bringing Susan's wedding gown...she blew all four tires on her rental somewhere North of town and showed up late that evening in the back of a pick-up full of good ol' boys.

Trail Breaker Kennels was on part of an old goldmine claim that Susan and David leased from a prospector. The place was decked out for the wedding and the guests had already begun to arrive the evening before.  Most were sleeping in their pick-ups or in tents. Jane would have none of that. Part of my negotiation for the trip was a hotel room. Susan thankfully made a reservation for us at the Manley Roadhouse, about 25 miles away.

We met a lot of the folks, mostly Susan and David's friends from all over the state, helped feed the dogs, ate some very fresh jerky and then went off to check in at the hotel.

The Manley Roadhouse is in Manley Hot Springs and, yes, there are hot springs, beside a scenic creek. A few houses, a post office and an airstrip make up the rest of the town. When we checked in, we got the "Northern Exposure" Cicely-Alaska-eye from the locals, until they connected us to Susan, then the smiles came out. "Don't worry about a key. We're always here. Just take your stuff upstairs." Jane was feeling pretty good as we climbed the stairs...until she saw that "upstairs" was an open dorm full of cots. Oh, well, so be it. We're inside under a roof.

We walked around town and Jane mailed a postcard at the post office, where she struck up a conversation with the post mistress, who was also the bush pilot who flies people around the area.  She was going to the wedding too. Jane said she hoped the dress she brought for the wedding would be appropriate.  Her new friend said it would, " if you don't mind the black flies carrying you away.Honey, cover up everything but your eyes or they'll eat you alive." Perhaps a little overstated but it's Alaska you know. Jane decided to change her outfit.

Back to Trail Breaker for a spaghetti feed that night. Susan asked Jane how she liked the roadhouse and Jane said fine. Susan said that was good to hear because it's taken them a while to come back from the ax murder. (Seems a guy from Michigan checked in earlier in the year, got up in the middle of the night and hacked up a few of the sleeping guests before someone stopped him with a shotgun.) I could have done without that story for Jane's well being but somehow she soldiered on. Some good singing and drinking took the sting out and finally we were off to bed...after carefully planning our escape route.

Wedding day was a bit overcast but still a nice fall day. Susan looked lovely in the dress that her sponsor Allied Fibers had designed and made for her. Don't tell the New Yorkers but Susan fed her dogs in the dress that morning before the ceremony.

A hundred or so of us were privileged to be there for the nuptials.  Susan and David had a friend who was their "Marryin' Sam". Her maid of honor was her main Iditarod rival Rick Swenson and her dogs were the ring bearers. They wrote their vows and, as you might imagine, the words had great meaning.

The toasts and party after were a blast. Susan's father and grandmother were on hand and her honored mentor Joe Reddington, who started the Iditarod Race, gave them a heartfelt wish for lifelong happiness. The days are still long in September with sunset near 10 pm.  The payoff for the day was the show that the Northern Lights put on as we partied into the night. Magnificent.

Brunch in Manley with Susan and David the next day and then a soak in the hot springs got us ready for the trip home. It was quite an adventure for Jane and it lived up to most of the billing. The exception, and Jane won't let me forget it, was the wildlife.  I had given her a big build-up about the moose, elk, bears, wolves and eagles we would see. A chipmunk, a squirrel and a crow were all we could forage. Even I was disappointed.

Still we were lucky to share a piece of Alaska of which only a few people can be part. When Susan's native Alaksan friends from across the state rolled in before the wedding with a Salmon they had caught that morning, we know we were in a place where the right things become important to life. It took three us to lift it out of the truck. We smoked the huge King Salmon and ate it that night. with a fine brew chaser and a sky filled with Aurora Borealis. Alaska is a special place. Incredible!

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First Saturday in March is Susan Butcher Day

I am very proud that, under a bill just approved by the Alaska Legislature, the first day of the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race will honor my good friend, Susan Butcher, a four-time champion of the 1049-mile endurance race. Susan was the second woman to win the Iditarod but was and forever will be first in the hearts of Alaskans and all who knew her. She died in August 2006 of leukemia.

Alaska House Bill 37 establishes the first Saturday of every March as Susan Butcher Day. The State Senate on Monday approved the measure on a 14-2 vote. The Alaska House approved the measure unanimously in 2007, the first of the two-year session, but the bill languished in a Senate committee until recently. Gov. Sarah Palin says she will sign the bill and March 1 will officially be Susan Butcher Day in the State of Alaska.
Susan and I came together over 20 years ago, early in her career, and we saw a lot of the world together, along with some very cold days on the tundra between Anchorage and Nome. She was a remarkable woman. When she passed away, I wrote my reflections about her, which follow here. Neither man nor beast could best Susan Butcher. My life is better having known her.

Susan Butcher…one of a kind

This business of public relations occasionally presents us the opportunity to make a connection with individuals who are one of a kind. Susan Butcher was one of a kind…tough, talented, independent, focused and driven. These were just some of the adjectives that described an athlete who made an indelible mark on the world of sport in a truly unique endeavor…Alaska’s great race, the Iditarod.

When I met Susan for lunch here in Seattle just over 20 years ago, she had tongue-tied Johnny Carson on the Tonight Show the night before on national television and made him laugh hysterically. We were introduced by a mutual friend and had come together to talk about Susan’s future as a competitor in the grueling 1100-mile cross-country sled dog race from Anchorage to Nome. She told me that day that she was going to win the race many times and that she needed to make a more effective connection with the “Lower 48” as we are known to many Alaskans, in order to accomplish all that she wanted.

We forged a bond that day that led us down many trails over the past two decades. Susan won the race, just as she said she would, and she won it four times convincingly. Many times, we took her coast to coast where she fascinated major media, enamored sponsors from Purina to Allied Fibers and mesmerized numerous captains of industry with her inspiring presentations. We made a national public television documentary of her story that is still the definitive tale of that incredible race with Susan at the center of it. We went to Japan with a group of world-class adventurers including the likes of Sir Edmund Hillary, who lined up with everyone else to hear Susan’s tales of the Iditarod. She was married at her home north of Fairbanks on a beautiful sunny afternoon at this time of year in a special ceremony with her closest friends…her dogs…as ring bearers…and her native Alaskan soulmates who brought blessed salmon that they had caught the day before on the other side of the state for the evening meal.

As time progressed, she and her loving husband David decided to start a family. Even that didn’t alter their routine or the racing. They just made some alterations in roles and responsibilities and kept on mushing. However, there is no doubt that Susan’s children changed her life…for the first time there were rivals for her affection besides her dogs and those girls were the love of her life. She was a hero to her family and to everyone who met her and when she began her battle against cancer a few years ago, we all knew that the disease would never have a more worthy adversary.

On Saturday, Susan succumbed to the advances of an army of bad cells in her body that was simply too much for even her to handle but she fought with every ounce of strength she had and was a role model of determination and positive thinking every step of the way. Susan was one of those people who are truly bigger than life and when you find compassion, understanding and love there too, it’s almost hard to believe. But with Susan Butcher you got all that and more, because in a man’s world, she was every bit her own person and would stand down to no one.

She leaves a space in our hearts that cannot be filled. In the world of adventure, the term hero is often thrown around casually today but that is not the same as being one of a kind. I’m glad this business of public relations has a way of seeking out the people who are real…the people who are more than talk…more than “been there, done that”. And when you find that person who is truly one of a kind, the power of their being impacts us in an extraordinary way. Susan Butcher was one of a kind. She can never be replaced. She will live forever in those of us who knew her but, today, we send our love to her family and suffer terribly the void left from the passing of our friend. Good bye, Susan…keep on racing.

Posted by Dan McConnell on February 14, 2008 10:32 AM Permalink