If you drive a ways north out of Fairbanks and hang a right onto the road paralleling the Chena River you are entering into the land of some of the finest sled dog teams in the world.

During the hour drive to the end of the road you don’t see much of anything doggy except the occasional, “Caution, Dog Sled Crossing” sign on the roadside. But the kennels are there, tucked inconspicuously back in the woods.

These are serious, professional mushers that don’t have the time or inclination to entertain public gawkers.

The road dead ends in the Chena Hot Springs Resort parking lot. When you wander into its lounge for a refreshing nip, there’s no doubt you’re in the heart of sled dog country. A handcrafted, wooden dog sled hangs from the ceiling and signed photos and numbered bibs of famous mushers paper the walls. Then it dawns on you that there is no presence of the highly publicized Iditarod Sled Dog Race.

Everything here is all about the Yukon Quest, another 1,000-mile long dog sled race that is all but unknown to the outside world. This course runs from Fairbanks in central Alaska to Whitehorse in the Yukon, or vice versa, depending on the year.

The Iditarod starts just north of Anchorage in south central Alaska and runs roughly 1,000 miles westerly to Nome on the Bering Sea. The first Iditarod was held in 1973 and has gained in publicity ever since. There’s not much to do during the dark, northern Alaska winters but run dogs and drink. In 1983 four mushers were engaged in the latter at the Bull’s Eye Saloon in Fairbanks and vowed to develop their own Iditarod-like race.

The Iditarod commemorates the heroic run by mushers to deliver diphtheria serum to the plagued town of Nome in 1929. This new race must also have something to commemorate and they decided it would be the Gold Rush era of the late 1800s and early 1900s. During the summer months the Yukon River was the highway into the gold fields of the Yukon and Alaskan interior.

However, come winter the Yukon freezes over solid.  Back in the Gold Rush days anything that moved in the frozen season moved by dog sled. The Yukon Quest would follow the century old sled dog routes taken by prospectors, trappers and supply and mail carriers from Whitehorse, Yukon to the gold fields on the Alaska/Yukon border and on into the interior of Alaska. The first Yukon Quest was held in 1984 and has run each year since but for some reason garnering much less outside attention than the Iditarod.

When you sit down in balmy Willow, the starting point of the Iditirod, and lift a glass with the local fans they boast of the Iditarod as the toughest race on earth. Moving on up Fairbanks way, a round of golden elixir with the locals brings scoffs that the Iditarod is mere child’s play compared to the grueling conditions and terrain of their Yukon Quest. I wouldn’t pretend to speculate which is tougher. I will point out the Iditarod has over 20 checkpoint stations where the mushers see other humans and experience some semblance of creature comforts.

The Yukon Quest has half that many checkpoints for the same distance so it is certainly lonelier if nothing else.

This year’s Yukon Quest started on Feb. 6 and as I write the leader will soon be limping into Whitehorse, a record short time. The Whitehorse radio station is running on my computer and they are reporting the leader is just three miles out.

The Iditarod starts on March 6, just 19 days from now. From the beginning it was speculated that with so little recovery time in between it would be impossible for the same musher and dog team to win both races.

In 2008 Lance Mackey, one of the Fairbanks mushers, proved them wrong and won both. Fluke, the pundits loudly taunted, so in 2009 Mackey repeated the impossible.  He won’t do a 3-peat this year, though, for he just came into Whitehorse in second place, a short hour behind the leader.

Carpe diem.

Larry Lyons writes a weekly outdoor column for Leader Publications. He can be reached at larrylyons@verizon.net