Tales about the Iditarod Trails!

One of the reasons I went to Alaska was to learn more about the Iditarod--as my students and I share a love of studying it--and I certainly had ample opportunity through listening to all of the Iditarod experts who shared their experiences with us throughout our time there!

 First and foremost was Vern Halter, owner of the "Dream a Dream" Dog Camp, where we had the unique experience of staying for three days and nights.  Vern entered and finished eighteen Iditarods with NO scratches and a career best of third place in 1999.  He is a walking encyclopedia of all things Iditarod, and he kept us spellbound with all of his stories!

 In the photo above, Vern tells us info about his equipment, most importantly his sled, and talks about the "good old days" when the 1,000 mile Iditarod trail was not even marked as it is today...today there are 12,000 trail markers set out before the race to guide the mushers; in the early years, there were none.   It was also significant that he noted that, in order to complete this race,  it takes more than a body that is in shape; he said it takes "tough mental composure" and definite reliance on the "mental ability of the sled dogs."  He impressed us with his care and concern for the dogs, saying, "Every dog is special in his own way."   It was not unexpected that he called the Iditarod, "the best challenge of my life."

 During one of his presentations, Vern showed us all of the layers of clothing the mushers put on to insulate themselves against the cold, when temperatures can often dip well below zero.  I was particularly impressed with the three layers of gloves he wears, including double thick fur mittens.   He also makes sure he has "hot hands Heet" packets in his pockets and tells us to remember "Wool, wool, wool" for warmth.  Above, I tried on the fur mittens, almost too good to be true!

Another intriguing speaker was Katie Mangelsdorf, author of Champion of Alaskan Huskies, a biography of Joe Redington Sr.,  who is known as "Father of the Iditarod" because he founded the race we have today.  Katie was introduced as "the true expert on Joe Redington," and we quickly understood why.   She is a true historian, being born and raised in Alaska and having lived there during the beginning of the race.

 She said she saved everything written about Joe Redington Sr. and started incorporating that  information into her classroom presentations when she taught fifth and sixth grades.   When she realized no one else had written a book about Joe, she approached him about the project, and he agreed to permit her to do it to preserve the historic Iditarod Mail Trail and to preserve the Alaskian husky and sled dog mushing.  Katie Mangelsdorf explained that Joe Redington  is the only person to take a sled dog team to the summit of Mt. McKinley and that from his first Iditarod race in 1974, he had an abiding belief  that "you always have to be prepared."  Above, Katie talks about the replica doll of Joe Redington made by Judy Bowers and shares a few of the stories that comprise her book.

 
Another speaker who truly lived history was Joe May, winner of the 1980 Iditarod.  Talk about tales!
Joe said that the single best addition to distance racing today is the fact that when mushers stop to rest their dogs, they put down hay to make the dogs' resting places.   When Joe was mushing and needed to give his dogs a break, he had to cut spruce boughs, which took up to 45 minutes to locate and cut and another 45 minutes to haul back to the dogs.  He said the present-day practice of shipping straw to have it ready and waiting for this use at checkpoints has changed the race.

 He also said he got into trouble in his Iditarod race when the wind picked up and tipped over both the dogs and the sled, so he had to crawl on his hands and feet in front of the dogs to lead them.  "Nobody wants to stop because of the weather," Joe explained.   He also talked about his encounters with moose and being chased by a grisly bear, chuckling as he shared, "If you spend enough time in the woods, you are going to run into other folks who live out there."  Several times he compared his experiences to those of writer Jack London, saying, "It was just like a scene out of Jack London."  We can all read more of his experiences in an upcoming book he is writing with a co-author called, Iditarod, the First Ten Years, which is scheduled to be released in December.

Another much-loved speaker was Cindy Abbott, who is "Dream a Dream's" musher for 2015.  She has started the Iditarod twice but unfortunately had to scratch both years. Although she has not been the official Red Lantern (in last place), she laughed out loud that she had been Red Lantern coming out of a few checkpoints, and that "it was cool because I got a beaver collar and pecan pie."  This will be her year, we are sure!

 Cindy has already climbed Mr. Everest and compares training for that to training for the Iditarod by saying the Iditarod is more challenging because with the Iditarod she is behind a sled or an ATV, and the dogs can take her anywhere!  She shared her life philosophy by saying, "Everyone gets thrown hurdles in life.  I am just trying to jump my hurdle" and reminding us of the quote,  "Life isn't about waiting for storms to pass.  It's about dancing in the rain."

All of the speakers we were fortunate to hear definitely had their share of "rain dances," and the stories they shared were some of the best ever told.

Glaciers, Moose, and Bears, Oh My!

A day to explore took us about an hour south of Anchorage. The drive was breath-taking.  It was  bright and sunny as we made our way around the most scenic drive ever, which took us right next to one of my favorite Alaskan treasures, the mountains.  In other trips in the past, I would have had my nose buried in a book or would have been painstakingly scribbling postcards, but I just could not take my eyes off the mountains.  And our destination was something similarly unique that we had yet to experience on this trip, a glacier!

Don had discovered a cruise that promised to take us very near the massive Portage Glacier itself, and we were not to be disappointed.  When we were in Alaska several years ago, there had been so much rain that the glaciers looked more like mountains with chunks of ice floating nearby.  However, this time, we were to experience "the real deal."

As the cruiser launched and started to move away from the shore,  the warm sun could not keep up with the brisk wind and the temperatures that kept dropping and dropping.  It was obvious that we were destined to points much colder than we had yet experienced in Alaska.  I zipped up my jacket and my windbreaker and even put up the hood, which I had rarely done during the whole trip.  Out came the gloves we were told to bring, and I was really glad I had them!  We rounded the bend, and we could see the massive white and blue glacier!  Quite an impressive showing from Mother Nature.

Everyone quickly made their way to the side of cruise-liner with the best view...the voice of the guide was quickly drowned out by a huge crashing, crashing, crashing sound.  The glacier was calving before our very eyes, and huge pieces tumbled down and splashed dramatically as they hit the water!  What a display!

Our guide from the U.S. Forest Service told us the visible part of the glacier was at least 300 feet high, but what we could not see was the submerged part, going another 300 feet beneath the surface.  We learned the "blue" sections of the glacier are the coldest, and our captain took a sampling of the water around the boat, and we dipped our hands into it and were told it was 36 degrees F.  Burrrr!  We did typical tourist things, such as had our photo taken with the ship's rescue life-preserver and just generally had a very memorable afternoon.

 The next adventure was equally intriguing.  We traveled just a few miles to the Alaskan Wildlife Conservation Center.  This was literally a safari of Alaskan wildlife, which a traveler could view from his  car while traveling around the large acreage, or he  could get out to get a more close-up view.  As we watched a brown bear mother and cub interact just a few feet from us, Don commented, "I am pretty sure that top wire (on the fence) is electric."  We hoped!  It was really wonderful to observe them so "up close and personal. " We had found our Alaskan bears!

Not to be outdone, in another area in close proximity were the black bears.  They were being fed and were harder to photograph because of their dark color and the shadows, but Don managed to get this really wonderful shot of one as he scampered around in the sunlight for a few moments.

Everyone we encountered seemed to be intrigued by the Alaskan moose, and there were frequent signs along the highway system reminding us to be on the lookout for them.  Imagine our amazement when this one seemed to be staring right at us!  We will remember that gaze and his wonderful massive antlers, flanked in the background by the scenic mountains.  What a view!

We quietly returned to our car and were satisfied that we had seen amazing things today, which one cannot duplicate in the midwest...glaciers, bears, and moose!  What a day!

Mushers Take First Step toward 2015 Race to Nome!

 Saturday was one of my top three favorite times* at Summer Camp!  It was the long-awaited "Mushers' Picnic."  This is the day when many mushers descend on Iditarod Headquarters to sign up for next year's race.  We did not want to miss any mushers, so we arrived early.  We immediately headed for the "puppy pen" to get our "puppy fix" for the day.  Above, 2015 Teacher on the Trail Erin Montgomery and I enjoy playing with what we agree are the cutest puppies of the week1

 Soon, the mushers started to arrive.  The first to sign up was Rohn Buser, son of Iditarod Champion, Martin Buser.  When his father arrived a few minutes later, one could not help but love seeing them together.    Martin has always been one of my favorite mushers because one of my first years following the race with my students, he was the winner, and he personally went out to the finish line to congratulate finishers every time a new one crossed under the famed "Burled Arch," signifying that the racer had finished.  Martin was not required to do this, but he did, and in doing so, he taught a tremendously valuable lesson about sportsmanship to my students!   (It is also interesting to note that Martin and Mrs. Buser named all of their children from checkpoints in the Iditarod!)

 Another great moment was when Karin Hendrickson arrived. Her home and kennel were the first we visited on our first day in the area, and it was such a wonderful visit that I am sure I will never forget it.  Karin has agreed to let my classes "adopt" her and follow her preparation for the race throughout the year.  This has to be a wonderful learning experience for my students!

 It was similarly awe-inspiring to get to meet Aily Zirkle, who finished second in the last three races!  She is just as personable as her winning smile hints, and it was so much fun to be able to meet her and talk a few minutes.  It is interesting to note that she attended elementary school for a year at the school where our daughter will be a teacher in the fall!  Small world!

Another important part of this day is when one "Teacher on the Trail" finishes her year and passes on the official Teacher on the Trail sleeping bag and all of the other responsibilites of this important position.  Jen Reiter(left) has done an exceptional job, but we now look forward to working with Erin Montgomery, who is equal to the task, we know.

It was so great to be able to meet some of the legends we had only known through the Internet before--Jen and Erin included!

*In case you were wondering, there is a three-way tie for my favorite things in Alaska so far:  Vern Halter's "Dream a Dream" dog camp; our visit to Karin Hendrickson's kennel; and Saturday when we could actually meet many of the mushers who will be in the great 2015 Iditarod!

Visit to HQ

A celebration of all things Iditarod would not be complete without stopping by the Iditarod Trail Headquarters in Wasilla, Alaska.   The entrance sign is reminiscent of the Iditarod finish line--or "Burled Arch" as it is called--in Nome.  This, above all other things, brought home the realization that we are really in Alaska!  Seldom does our Lead Photographer, Don, show up IN photos, but he looks rather happy and right at home by the official HQ sign.

It was fun to walk the grounds, see the puppies, and go on another mini-cart ride pulled by Iditarod dogsled dogs and mushed by former Iditarod standout Ramy Reddington.  Here we also took note of the statue of Balto which honors all sled dogs for "endurance, fidelity, and determination."

But what was inside is probably more interesting to my students, the Red Lantern trophy!

My students have always been intrigued to learn that the Iditarod is one of the few sports which actually presents a trophy for LAST place.  This award bears witness to the perseverance and determination necessary to just finish this race of more than a thousand miles across our country's largest state.    There is great honor for a musher and his or her dogs to actually have finished this "Last Great Race,"--even in last place!   It was just awesome to see this trophy which says so much about this race, as well as the unusual caution signs that dot the landscape in this area...

Only in Alaska: More Dogs and a Favorite Artist

 Even though today brought zero sun and more rain, it will probably be one of my favorites from the whole trip.    We ventured to Eagle River, AK to find more dogs and a pleasant surprise at the picturesque home and studio of "Alaska's Artist," Jon Van Zyle.  I could hardly believe it when I glanced at the children's books to find one of my all-time favorites, Sled Dogs Run, available for purchase.  Only at that moment did it register with me  that the famous artist we were visiting and one of my favorite illustrators were one and the same--Mr. Van Zyle himself!  I have shared his book with my classes for years, and then I was standing in the presence of the living, breathing illustrator.  When I expressed regret that I had not brought his book so that he could sign it, he quickly presented me with a lovely notecard with his original dogsled design on it which he signed for my classes so I could take the autograph home to put in the front of his book.   What an unexpected and wonderful gift!

Then, we went outside to one of the most beautiful dog yards ever.  We walked through a lovely flower garden to reach it and found it dotted with sun umbrellas, which Mr. Van Zyle explained, were there to provide the dogs shelter from the sunlight.  It was a lovely sight!  We got pretty wet, so once we had visited the dogs,  Mrs. Van Zyle said they wanted to give us a reward for venturing out into the rain "Just to say hello" to the dogs.  She brought us back into their  home and spread out prints from about 50 choices of Jon's amazing artwork on a table.  We were then invited to each choose one as a gift, and Mr. Van Zyle methodically autographed each.   This was just the most lovely ending to a perfect visit!

PS  This is for follower Trekka:

The sled dog today, a Siberian huskie, did have blue eyes!  Stay tuned for more info as we try to

answer his question about whether or not all huskies have blue eyes! 

The Ultimate Ride

One of my favorite places in Alaska--and maybe in all the world-- will always be Vern Halter's "Dream a Dream" dog camp.    It just seemed we were removed from the rest of goings-on of daily life on the planet and transplanted into this "other place" for Dog Mushing 101.   There was not a TV in the place, and Internet was just intermittent, so after awhile everyone just gave up trying to get online and settled into everyday life with the dogs and listening to former Iditarod veteran Vern Halter spin his tales about this incredible race.

Days started with "Puppy Walks" through the woods.  Eight little black and white balls of fur  scampered along in front of us while their mother tried to corral them on a trail hike through the woods.    They usually made it back to camp just fine, except for the time they got a little too far ahead a little too quickly and were temporarily "lost."  Everyone was certainly relieved when the little guys were sighted and ushered back to their spacious "puppy pen."

A highlight of our days there was the "cart ride."  Meant to be a simulation of a dog-driven sled ride, we helped harness 14 sled dogs and get them secured to the "gang line" so that they could pull us on an ATV.  This is a typical summer training event for sled-dogs, and they just love it!  Certainly, this is what is meant by the expression, "Born to Pull," as these dogs, some of whom ran last year's Iditarod, lunged forward and actually seemed to make light work of carrying us through the trails in the woods.  As can be seen below, nothing stopped them--not even a stream several feet deep.  They just went straight through it, and I learned the hard way why everyone kept saying to "put your feet up" when going through the stream!  Sopping wet feet was a small price to pay for a great memory and really seeing these working dogs in action.  Nothing like it!

Dogs, dogs, dogs!

After taking several turns down rain-soaked gravel roads that looked like they were going nowhere, we arrived at a handsome-looking modern log cabin.  When a pretty brunette with a turned-around baseball cap extended her hand in welcome, I knew we were in the right spot.   "Come on in!"  she greeted us, but she was inviting us not into her home, but into her dog yard.

We then entered a world we had never seen before, which was home to over 30 dogs.  It just happened to be raining, but that didn't stop our musher, Karin Hendrickson, from personally introducing us to each of her three dozen sled dogs, plus one pit bull thrown in just for fun.  The thing that impressed me the most was that 31 dogs barking at the same time can produce quite a cacophonous din of almost painful-to-listen-to sound.  However, with one voice command, every single dog instantaneously stopped barking.  When we expressed amazement at this transformation, Karin explained that she had to have quiet and cooperation--that the dogs had to listen to her-- if they were going to follow her 1,000 miles across Alaska.

As we made our way around the impeccably manicured dog yard, we met each dog.  One by one, each went to the top of his doghouse so we could give him a pat.  In the photo, the blue doghouses can be seen, as can the smiling Karin, and those well-taught, happy, much-loved dogs being groomed for "The Last Great Race on Earth."

After viewing some of Karin's Iditarod sledding equipment and memorabilia and hearing some of her fascinating stories about the race, including the fact that what she looks forward to the most at the end of the trail is her mom bringing her a cheeseburger when she crosses the finish line in Nome,  we reluctantly said goodbye.

Next stop:  Vern Halter's "Dream a Dream" dog farm where we would live and breathe Iditarod dogs for the next three days.  One of the best parts was the puppy walks through the woods, where eight darling black and white puppies and their mom immediately stole our hearts.

Finally Seeing Anchorage!

In exploring Anchorage, one of the biggest thrills for me was seeing 4th Street in downtown Anchorage, because that is where the Ceremonial Start of the Iditarod takes place the first Saturday in March.   I recognized some of the buildings from the photos I have seen of the races over the years, and it was just the greatest to stand on the very street where the race happens.  I could almost see snow and sleds, almost hear the dogs barking and straining as they are released to start the race.

Nearby, in a park,we saw a concert of native American dancers and singers.  They did a variety of performances from a creation story about how Alaska was plagued with mosquitos to songs about snowbirds.  Since these are typically performed in small places, the dancers' feet do not move.  All in all, eleven different cultures are in represented in Alaska, and it was great do be introduced to them in this colorful and memorable way.

Finally, we drove up into the mountains which are a little south of Anchorage.  It is hard to put into words how awesome they are--beautiful, grand, and picturesque.  As we got closer, we realized a few were glaciers!   I was totally unprepared to be face to face with their magnificence.  I wondered what it would be like to mush a team of dogs by such natural wonders.  I think then I began to start to comprehend a little of why The Iditarod mushers do what they do.

Tomorrow:  we meet the dogs!

Update Saturday

After an awesome day exploring Anchorage yesterday, we are heading toward three days at "Dream a Dream" dog camp this morning.  Internet coverage may be intermittent, so I will have plenty of stories and photos to share once we are "live" again.  Happy trails until then!

We arrived!

I can hardly believe our much-anticipated journey to Alaska has begun.   Door-to-door, it took three different planes and over twelve hours to reach Anchorage.  In my heart-of-hearts, I was secretly glad it was a long trip.  If it were shorter, it would not seem so monumental.  The longer journey helps me appreciate the unparalleled opportunity I have been given.  I know it will be worth every minute it took to get here--and then some!

As we began our first flight to Dallas, the sun was enormously bright and glistening as we seemed to float over the cloudscapes.  Outside my plane window, the landscape that occasionally peaked through the clouds changed and rearranged.  At one point, as I glanced out my window heading from Dallas to Seattle, I saw snow-covered mountains...the Rockies, perhaps?  Dorothy, we are not at home anymore!

Reading veteran musher DeeDee Jonrowe's book, Iditarod Dreams, seemed a fitting thing to do as our airplane cabin on the Seattle-bound flight seemed to have sub-freezing temps.  When I read the chapter where Ms. Jonrowe wrote of the perils of encountering moose, I was reminded of my husband's brother Mike's counsel just before we left:  "Remember, moose always have the right-away."  This echoed what Ms. Jonrowe explained, "Most people think of moose as friendly, gangly animals who don't give anyone any trouble.  Those people don't live in Alaska!"  (Iditarod Dreams, p. 86)  I promise we will be on the look-out!

As we boarded the final plane from Seattle to Anchorage, I tried to sleep but was beyond excitement, so I kept reading and actually finished the book just before we landed in Anchorage.  As the clouds cleared, the mountains of Alaska beneath us were nothing short of majestic.   Once there, we were surprised how cool it seemed as we waited for our shuttle to the hotel...60 degrees or so and a brisk breeze made us both reach for our jackets.  Yes, we were in Alaska!

By the time we arrived at our hotel, which is known as "Iditarod Race Headquarters," we realized we needed dinner and found a uniquely picturesque spot just outside our hotel where we could have delicious salmon patties and watch seaplanes taking off and landing on a lake.  We were having dinner in the bright sunlight at what would have been nearly midnight at home.  It was almost too beautiful to describe.  In the photo above, I am standing by the seaplane that takes folks on bear expeditions...perhaps that is for another day?  (Planes such as these are also used to transport dogs as needed during the Iditarod and after the race.)

Sitting there, soaking up all this incredible beauty, and so glad to finally be in Alaska, DeeDee Jonrowe's words--from the book that had been my companion all day--came to mind.  She wrote after conquering her first Iditarod, "You feel pretty special after doing something like that.  You feel whatever happens, it's OK because you've done it."   In some ways, I believe this is how I will feel about this once-in-a-lifetime trip to Alaska.  What a wonderful welcome to the "land of the midnight sun."

Why the Iditarod?

Since this blog was born a week ago,* questions have flooded in:  why Alaska?  why this race?  what's this grant all about?  what does "Iditarod" mean anyway?  As a life-long dog-lover, I fell in love with this race from the first moment I first learned about it.  The idea behind it is something I can only dream about:  traveling 1,000 miles across the vast expanse of Alaskan wilderness on a sled behind a team of dogs has a lot of intrigue for an English teacher from the relatively moderate climate of Indiana.

The grant provides me with the opportunity to examine this most unusual happening in an "up close and personal" way by actually going to Alaska to investigate it.  Discovering for myself the details, stories, and heroes of an event that is fresh and new every year, because the mushers, dogs, experience level, and weather conditions all come together in a unique combination every time the first Saturday in March rolls around, and the teams rush through the streets of Anchorage to start this ultimate dogsled race we call the Iditarod.

First run in 1973, the Alaskan Iditarod Dogsled Race commemorates a 1925 life-saving run by dogsled from Anchorage to Nome.  The word, "Iditarod" reportedly has several meanings.  Iditarod is a small ghost-town about the middle of the race route.  According to Iditarod Fact Book by Sue Mattson, it  means "clear water" whose source is the Iditarod River.  "Distant Place" is an alternate definition.  It is thought that these definitions come from Ingalik Indian terms and Holikachuk phrases referring to the river.  (16)

The history is intriguing, which is why I hope to become a walking Iditarod encyclopedia, sharing more insights  as I uncover them through my study, but first and foremost, I hope to learn the unsung stories behind the race, as told by the mushers themselves.  I hope you will go along with me as I have the time of my life trying to capture the essence of what has understandably come to be called, "The Last Great Race on Earth."   In just a few short days, I will travel to Alaska.  I can hardly believe it is finally time for my own Iditarod journey to begin!

 *I would be remiss if I did not thank  Emily and Sarah., two exceptional teachers with whom I work, for their technological expertise in helping me launch this blog, as well as Cathy, Heidi, and my husband Don, for their unending support.   
                  

My Inspiration

Now, I can hardly remember a time when I did not know and love the Iditarod.  I cannot imagine not  looking forward to it the first Saturday of March, the much-anticipated day the race starts each year.  I do not want to even think about not having this "real life connection"of what my students are reading to something "really cool" which is actually going on in our own country, but admittedly representing a life-style very different from our own.  I cannot imagine not following the race with my students, as it is one of their very favorite things all year--mine, too.

 However, if I reach way back about 15 years, I remember a dear, dear teacher in the classroom next door to mine, Mrs. C.,  who started  talking about the Iditarod about mid-February.  She is a math teacher, and I am math-challenged, so at first I actually thought she was talking about a math term!  Then, she would excitedly say, "The Iditarod is coming!  The Iditarod is coming!"  Finally, my curiosity got the better of me, and I admitted my ignorance and asked her to tell me what on earth she was talking about!   When she told me, with great enthusiasm, that it was (and is) a 1,000 mile journey across Alaska via dogsled, and sprinkled in some wonderful anecdotes about the adventures mushers--people who drive the dog teams--have, I was hooked.  The same day, I did a little research about the race and its history and soon remembered we had copies of Jack London's The Call of the Wild in our language arts storage room.  I literally ran to my department chair with the idea of having my students read this classic, which centers around using dogsleds for transportation during the great Gold Rush,  while following that year's Iditarod in real time via the Internet.  She approved it, and one of the most effective teaching tools I have used to date was born.

It was interesting that my younger daughter was in upper elementary at the time in, and her class was also following the race, so I was able to adapt some of the activities her class was doing for my older students, and my cousin, who was a Media Specialist in an elementary school in Oregon, was also using it as a tool to get students excited about reading.

All of these pieces came together to result in making my English class suddenly interesting to students who formerly would probably not have thought of English as even near their favorite.  There was a whirl of excitement and activity every morning as all of my students would hurry into my room to  check the race updates (published on the Internet by the Iditarod Trail folks in Alaska) and move the "sled" of the musher each student  was "following" across our giant map of the route across Alaska we had posted in our room.   This is one of those things which make teaching magical...to see students really connecting with a subject being taught.

I wish you could meet Mrs. C. someday. As shown in the photo above,  I caught up with her  recently so I could tell her about my upcoming trip to Alaska, and she could give me a book she had brought back from her last trip there.  I could not believe it when she opened to the author's inscription to both herself and to me, which he had done at her request.  Two teachers who share a bond, a love of something which worked in our classrooms and taught us endless life lessons in the process.  Thanks, Mrs. C.; you opened a whole new world to countless students--and to their grateful teacher and your student, me!

The Big Envelope

The Big Envelope

Grant proposals were due November 1, with the results not to be announced until mid-February.
I tried not to think of it much during those three long months.  When it would come to mind, I would try not to hope and wish.  I would get out my red pen and grade more essays, plan some lessons, work on other school projects...anything to avoid thinking about the grant 24/7.

As the time for the announcement grew closer and closer, one of my teacher friends--who had also submitted a grant proposal--commented that she could not believe all of the things she had committed to do if she were a successful candidate.  I silently agreed, especially when she exclaimed, "This is going to change my life!"

One cold, snowy Saturday in February, one of my dear friends who had also applied let me know she had received a letter about it.  I was convinced that I would be notified that day, too.  We checked the mail time after time, but the box was always empty, mail having been delayed because of several days of bad weather.

My husband and I had planned to celebrate Valentine's Day, as we had not been able to do the previous evening because of the inclement weather.  I wanted to go, but still no mail.  Maybe it would not be delivered that day.  It was close to 6 p.m., and we reluctantly left for our night out, still not knowing.

When we returned several hours later, it was cold, dark, and snowing.  As we pulled into our driveway, I hoped we would not get stuck in the newly-fallen snow as my husband gingerly made his way to check the mailbox one last time before we turned in.

The words of my mentor for this project, Emily Howell, who had won this grant a few years earlier, rang in my head:  "You want to receive a Big Envelope," emphasizing the "Big."   I knew what a small envelope meant because I had unsuccessfully applied for the grant several years ago.  I was painfully aware of what was in the small envelope:  "We regret to inform you..."  I prayed that if I were to receive the small envelope again, I would be gracious and not heart-broken.

My husband reached into the snow-covered mailbox and retrieved a huge handful of mail.  I could not see its exact contents, but he called out, "It's a big envelope."  Then, he took one look at me and said, "Don't cry yet!  You haven't even opened it!"

But I had seen The Big Envelope, and I knew.

We hurried inside, and I carefully opened it.  I literally screamed what I read:  "Congratulations!  It gives me great pleasure to inform you that your proposal was selected for funding..."

It took quite a while for it to really sink in:  we were going to ALASKA!  I would create a blog!  I would write my heart out and attend a conference of professional writers!  I would write a book!  I would become an author!

Despite the fact that the hour was growing late, we called our daughters and sent many crazy texts to friends.  I texted my mentor and stated that I had received my grant letter.  She misunderstood and wrote back with her consolations, to which I happily replied, "No!  I got it!"  Many happy exchanges would follow that night and in the days to come.

So, if I look a little teary in the photo of me opening The Big Envelope, it is because I was.  I get a little teary even now as I remember the cold winter night when I received The Big Envelope, because I knew it would change my life in ways I could not even imagine.