The snow is back for the 2026 Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race.
A little over a half-foot of snow blanketed Anchorage for the Iditarod’s ceremonial kickoff Saturday, creating a very different scene from the previous year, which saw an abbreviated run through the city, on mere ribbons of snow, and a move to Fairbanks for the real start because of a lack of snow.
The 1,000-mile race has plenty of snow for 2026 and is back on its normal northern route for its 54th running. The competition begins for real with a restart in Willow at 2 p.m. Sunday.
Snow continued to fall Saturday as 37 Iditarod teams mushed through Alaska’s largest city in front of thousands of cheering race fans downtown and more spread out along 11 miles of trails.
“So many people are out there,” said Gabe Dunham, a Willow musher making her fourth attempt at the Iditarod. “They're cheering you on. It's a big, huge party today. And today is a celebration for the entire state to celebrate dogs, our history, all of it. And so I hope everybody here is feeling that vibe.”
The Iditarod will look a bit different this year for Dunham. She was introduced to dog mushing by her father, who died in January. He’d been supporting her since her first race about two decades ago.
Dunham is carrying her father’s ashes with her on the trail to Nome, something they talked about before he died, Dunham said.
“It was kind of a funny conversation that we had, because he had a hard time controlling his body temperature at that point, and so he was constantly cold, and he's like, ‘I don't want to be cold anymore.’ And I told him, ‘It's really cold on the way to Nome,’” Dunham said, laughing.
Dunham said most of her 16-dog team can run out front in the lead position, but her Alaskan Husky, Usher, stands out from the pack.
“It doesn't matter what's in front of you, it can be waist deep snow or it could be open water. He's just like, ‘OK, let's do this.’ I just love that attitude about him,” she said.
Every team has a stand out dog, said Matt Hall, who’s from Two Rivers and placed second in the Iditarod the last two years. For him, that’s an eight-year-old named Dyea.
“He's been there for me since he was a puppy. He became a star lead dog right off the get go. Dyea, man, he's been a legend for me,” Hall said.
Hall said he doesn’t try to put the pressure of winning on himself. A successful race, he said, is getting a happy and healthy team to the famed Burled Arch, the Iditarod’s finish line in Nome.
Defending Iditarod champion Jesse Holmes is chasing another win, which few mushers have done consecutively since the race started in 1973.
The trail out of Fairbanks in 2025 didn’t involve the challenging, mountainous sections through the Alaska Range, but with some mileage tacked on it was the longest race in history at roughly 1,130 miles.
It’s a mental relief to be back on the normal 1,000-mile trail, Holmes said, adding that he appreciates the strategic challenges along the northern route.
“I'm looking forward to the moments where it's not easy and it doesn't go my way, and having the opportunity to stay positive,” he said. “I don't expect a magic carpet ride. If I get it, that'd be great, but I relish the adversity.”
This’ll be Holmes’ ninth Iditarod. He said his relationship with his dogs is what brings him back to the race each year. He’s known for lying alongside his team in a bed of straw.
The 2025 champ calls that a “cuddle puddle.” But over the years, Holmes said, he’s learned that he’s a ferocious competitor.
“I've learned that we're all capable of more than we think we are. I have a lot of compassion and a lot of connection to the land in the communities, and that's the most important part of this race for me,” Holmes said.
It’s Jody Potts-Joseph’s first Iditarod. The Hän Gwich'in musher from Eagle Village was inspired to mush by her brother, who had a sled dog team when she was younger.
“He'd always take me on training rounds, and we’d go to school with a dog team,” she said. “It's just been a big part of my life. My best core memories are growing up with dogs.”
Potts-Joseph was making her first appearance for the enthusiastic crowd in downtown Anchorage, but she’s no stranger to the spotlight: She starred on the show “Life Below Zero: First Alaskans,” an all-Alaska Native reality series. Her daughter, Quannah Chasinghorse, is a model and climate activist.
As a self-described Interior girl, Potts-Joseph is aiming to see the Bering Sea Coast by dog team for the first time.
“I just want to take good care of my dogs and just make sure that we keep moving down the trail and just gonna take it day by day,” Potts-Joseph said.
Alongside the competitive mushers in the 2026 Iditarod – including former champs Holmes, Ryan Redington and Pete Kaiser – are three mushers in a new Expedition Class. Among them are another former champion, Thomas Waerner, his fellow Norwegian Kjell Røkke and Canadian entrepreneur Steve Curtis.
Mushing in the Expedition Class allows the teams to receive outside assistance, which is against the rules for other mushers. It’s controversial.
Røkke is a billionaire whose businesses, including a krill-based dog food company, have sponsored Iditarod teams since 2018. He has also mushed sections of the trail with Waerner.
At the ceremonial start, Røkke admitted he’s nervous this time around.
“Being with a champion like Thomas gives me comfort,” he said. “This is the fourth year we are in Alaska mushing, so I feel I'm as prepared as I can be based upon my skill level.”
Røkke contributed more than $300,000 to the race to lower entry fees, boost the race purse and to support villages along the trail, according to the Iditarod. Race officials say a “significant donation” from Røkke will also help deliver preventative pediatric care to children in rural Alaska this year through a series of dental clinics and deliveries of oral hygiene supplies.
“It feels good to be a part of something that you believe in,” he said. “I'm also pleased to be a part of the dog mushing family, so to speak.”
Iditarod officials said all dogs will be held to the same care standards.
Mushers and veterinary crews at checkpoints are responsible for dog care. But the mushers themselves expect to suffer and will almost certainly lose a lot of sleep during the race.
Mille Porsild, a four-time top 10 finisher originally from Denmark and mushing out of Willow, knows that well.
“It's almost like I'm in a video game, because you're so sleep deprived at that point that your brain is also really doing tricks on you, and you're hallucinating and all this stuff, right?” Porsild said. “But you're kind of almost removed, it’s a little bit like you're seeing everything in ‘bird perspective.’ And you watch those dogs and it’s so unbelievable, what they do. They run from marker to marker. Your job is to keep the headlamp shining forwards.”
