Kailyn's Iditarod 2022
Hi, I'm Kailyn. For those of you who know me, I don't need to explain my life-long affliction with the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race. For those who don't know of my life-long dreams, the above photo is a picture I drew when I was 7, when I first decided I wanted to do this race. Feel free to read as much or as little of this post as you'd like. I don't like asking for money, but enough people have asked how to donate to my dream that I decided I'd set up a GoFundMe, so here it is. You can also Venmo me directly at @KailynDavis
No amount is too small - $1 is the equivalent of one dog bootie to protect the dogs' feet. I equally appreciate any calls/text/emails from people just wanting to share this journey with me in spirit with no monetary involvement, whether you know me or not. This is not going to be an easy journey and it will mean the world to know I have people cheering for me.
Disclaimer: Because nothing in life is certain and sometimes things happen that are beyond my control, if the unexpected happens and I am not able to run Iditarod 2022 I will donate all the fundraising money to the Fairbanks Animal Shelter Fund. It's an organization in Fairbanks that provides medical care for the shelter animals. It is also the fund responsible for saving my dog Zeke's life. His story is linked farther down.
A little about the Iditarod:
Sometimes called the "Superbowl of Alaska," it's a long-distance sled dog race with a team of 14 dogs starting in Anchorage and finishing in the remote village of Nome. The entire race is off the road system through the wilderness, which means there is no help, no support, and it's just the musher taking care of their dogs. For 1000 miles. It takes about two weeks to complete.
A little about me:
I started following the Iditarod in elementary school. We did this little Idita-read program where we read books, and some number of pages represented some number of miles. We ran our own reading race while tracking the mushers in real-time. I was fortunate to grow up in Anchorage where my parents took me to see the ceremonial start each year. I remember watching the mushers go by, wishing I could be like them. One year when I was very young a musher tossed a dog bootie to me. It was old, had a hole, and smelled like dog, but I was so excited. I have since gone through hundreds of thousands of dog booties over the years, but I still have that very first one in my nightstand back home.
At the end of my senior year in high school, I emailed a handful of mushers asking if they had work for me. This put me in connection with Christine Roalofs, now a dear friend, who is fully to thank (or blame) for where I am today. I spent many years working with Christine, and she taught me much of what I now know. I helped train her dogs, did some races, and watched her embark on her own dream of Iditarod in 2013. I got to be there when she crossed the finish line in Nome, and since then I've been fortunate to be in Nome and watch many of my friends accomplish their dreams. I continued running dogs when I could while putting myself through college. I remember many weekends getting out of class at 6, driving to Wasilla where I was working for Al Eischens, arriving around 2am, and waking up at 5am for a training run or race. Through it all, I eventually finished two degrees in Music Education and Geology, and in January of 2019 took a short amount of time off work to finish my final qualifying race for Iditarod.
Since my journey began, I've adopted four sled dogs of my own. Two of them have done several of my qualifiers with me, including my boy Zeke whose claim-to-fame is that in an alternate universe he'd be dead. You can read his incredible story here (and try not to cry):
https://craigmedred.news/2016/05/03/the-iditarods-miracle-dog/
Now, with the help of family, many friends, many dogs, long hours of work and long hours on the trail, I am ready to embark on my own Iditarod dream. 2022 is going to be my year and I am extremely excited to be running dogs from Wade Marrs at Stump Jumpin Kennel. (https://www.stumpjumpinkennel.com) It's also the 50th anniversary of the race, so bonus points for being a cool year to give it a shot. Like I said, this won't be easy, but I'm excited for the adventures to come.
If you do choose to donate, here are some of the things your money will go towards:
Entry fee (about $4000)
Booties to protect the dogs' feet - each dog goes through hundreds of these a season
Lots and lots and lots of dog food - one sled dog can eat about 15,000 calories a day
Lithium headlamp batteries - Alaska in the winter is dark about 20 hours a day
Handwarmers - self explanatory
Chore gloves
Plane tickets from Nome for me and the dogs
Shipping empty kennels to Nome to fly the dogs home
And so much more...too many little things to list. I'm also happy to provide a full spreadsheet breakdown of all the costs of the race if it interests you.
Another thing... I have worked in tourism for many summers now and it's my favorite thing in the world. I love teaching people about mushing and I love answering questions. If you've read this far, maybe you have some questions of your own. What do we feed the dogs? How do we cook food on the trail? How do the dogs know where to go? How do we stay warm? What if we see a moose? Send me a message or comment with your questions! I'd love to tell you more.
Happy trails!