Dog sledding is an iconic piece of Alaska’s history. From its roots in Alaska Native culture to the Klondike Gold Rush to the Iditarod, it’s withstood the test of time.
Now, it’s taken on a new form to help it survive: excursions for Juneau’s ever-booming cruise ship tourism industry.
Taking off in a helicopter from Douglas Island, the green rainforest that engulfs downtown quickly turned to white as the cruise ships in the Gastineau Channel fell out of view.
Soon, the passengers were flying over the Juneau Icefield. Home to over a thousand glaciers, it stretches across 15,000 square miles of mountain terrain between the capital and British Columbia. Looking down from above, all you can see is the blue of glaciers weaving through the dark mountains and white patches of snow.
But, there was something else out there, too. As the helicopter moved closer, it looked like a bunch of ants in the snow. Closer still, and the ants started to look kind of fluffy.
But then, the barking came into earshot — it’s the Norris Glacier dog sledding camp.
Each year from late April through mid-August, nearly 200 dogs from all over the U.S. live on the glacier. It’s located 3,100 feet above sea level. The camp has existed for more than 20 years, and everything there is flown up and down by helicopter — including the dogs.
Josi Thyr is the camp’s manager and a professional musher. She owns 27 of the dogs at the camp. For most of the year, she’s based in Fairbanks.
“I feel like for Alaska, it’s kind of what the cowboy is for the American West,” she said. “The difference is we still are doing this.”
Last year, she finished her first-ever Iditarod, the iconic 1,000-mile trek from Anchorage to Nome. Now, her team is training for her second.
“These dogs are athletes, and so we want to keep them moving,” she said. “The shape that they’re in after coming off the glacier, I think makes a big difference in how they perform in the wintertime.”
Right now, she’s building her team and figuring out which pups have what it takes to go the distance.
Thyr’s husband, JJ Shelley, selected 10 dogs — with names like Fifa and Seabiscuit – and hooked their harnesses up to a multi-person sled. As they got lined up, some dogs were borderline screaming in anticipation, while others jumped up and down.
Riding down the trail on the back of the sled, Shelley said training in cold places like the icefield is crucial to keeping the dogs in shape during the hot summer months.
He said it also serves as a way for mushers to maintain a steady income during the summer via the tours they give to people who visit the camp. In recent years, mushing has become increasingly expensive.
“People ask us the big question of ‘These guys are running over 100 miles a day, what are they eating?’ The answer is, my wallet. They eat maybe about $30,000 worth of food every year,” he said, laughing.
Even in April of this year, race organizers for the Iditarod said financial woes like growing inflation, loss of sponsors and declining revenue threaten the race’s future. That’s why Shelley says more and more mushers are turning to tourism.
“The mushing community in general is very reliant on tourism for I mean, that’s how we make our money,” he said. “We rely on it for dog food money and all that stuff and race entry fees and everything — this is how we make our living.”
Dog mushing tours on the icefield run between $600 to $700 per person online. But for people like Cindy Spender, it’s worth every penny. She traveled to Alaska from Colorado to celebrate her 60th birthday.
“It was actually on my list to go to Alaska, that was on my ‘live list.’ And so I asked my girlfriends if they would be up for it, and they’re like, ‘Heck, yeah,’” she said. “We kind of chose things that we all wanted to do, and dog sledding was one of them.”
On a typical day during the heart of tourism season, about 150 people are flown up to take a tour. Jack White is the tour manager for NorthStar Helicopters, the company that flies people up to the camp.
“We rely on cruise ships for 90% of our business, so they’re a huge part of it,” he said.
White said many of the people who do the trip call it an experience they’ll never forget. It’s also a way to get people out of downtown Juneau during the congested summer months.
But for the dogs, it’s just another day in the office. Their office just happens to be up in the mountains, on a giant hunk of ice.
