Gary Paulson never chose to run the Iditarod; the decision was made for him, gradually, over many days and nights in the northern Minnesota woods. He spent those days and nights running his sled dogs, and the more he understood them the more he felt connected to the natural world around him. The separateness of him from his dogs, his dogs from the wolves, and the wolves from the rest of the world began to disappear. He writes, "...The beauty of the woods, the incredible joy of it is too alluring to be ignored, and I could not stand to be away from it - indeed, still can't - and so I ran dogs simply to run dogs; to be in and part of the forest, the woods."
Paulson's book Winterdance: The Fine Madness of Running the Iditarod is his chronicle of racing in the eleven hundred and eighty mile sled dog race in Alaska. The Iditarod was especially dangerous for someone with Paulson's limited experience. His first summer he knew so little about training for the race that he tied his dogs to a rusty old bicycle, jumped on and set off down the road. He managed to keep the bike on two wheels until a rabbit crossed the road and the dogs chased it through the woods for miles. In Alaska he and his dogs were blown off a mountain, saved by his snow hook catching on the rock face. He endured moose attacks and dogfights, sleep deprivation, hallucinations, frostbite and many, many skunks.
What makes Winterdance unforgettable is learning why Paulson did run the race. I have never seen frozen waterfalls in Alaska's interior or watched the sun rise in a golden blaze across the Bering Sea. Paulson's book gives us a greater sense of nature's importance.
When I read this book I had one of those "laughing so hard you can't breathe" experiences. I recommend it a lot because it's hard to find a humorous book that most people will find funny - everyone so far has loved this one.