Iditarod musher Mike Suprenant gives one of his lead dogs, Larry, some love at his home in Chugiak. Suprenant is one of two Chugiak mushers representing the Chugiak-Eagle River area in this year's Iditarod. Star Photo by Melissa DeVaughn

When Michael Suprenant strings his team along Fourth Avenue for Saturday's Iditarod ceremonial start, the Chugiak musher will officially begin his two-week spring break through Alaska's most unforgiving and unpredictable wilderness.

Suprenant, 45, has dedicated his life to competing with the toughest dogs and biggest names in the business, and races dogs along such a remote and hostile northern route that it could easily unhinge a person trying to conquer it.

Given the blue-collared character of his Supre Kennel, located on a small, wooded parcel off North Birchwood Loop Road, and his genuine, down-home lifestyle, Suprenant considers the 1,000-mile Iditarod a much-needed break from ordinary life.

"It's all attitude," he said. "My dogs have a great attitude. I just have to make sure my attitude is like, 'Yes!' no matter what the weather throws at me."

Consider the Supre Kennel vintage Iditarod; a mom and pop, small-market franchise; or perhaps just an ordinary team trying to accomplish an extraordinary feat.

Suprenant has no major sponsors. He receives no major press. He found his handler on Craigslist, and she works practically free just to give her house dog, Nanook, some canine friends. More important, she helps Suprenant's lifestyle, working by day and running dogs by night, run smoothly.

Tim is one of Mike Suprenant's more photogenic sled dogs.

As a civilian employee for the Army Corps of Engineers, Suprenant generally works a 7 a.m. to 5 p.m. shift. He'll come home, feed the dogs and clean the dog yard before getting himself a bite to eat. Then it's time to load the dogs for a training run at Beach Lake Trails. Afterward, he'll put them to bed before going to bed himself.

"When you work more than 40 hours a week and race dogs, you forget about sleep," Suprenant said. "Five hours, if I'm lucky."

For the third consecutive winter, he has sacrificed hitting the snooze to putting together an Iditarod-worthy team, despite it being one of the smallest among this year's 71 mushers entered in the 1,000-mile race from Anchorage to Nome.

Suprenant maintains a 25-dog kennel. Considering 16 dogs is the maximum for an Iditarod team to start with, he isn't left with much wiggle room on race day.

"Only 20 dogs are actually raceable," he said. "Like any athlete, only the strongest dogs race. But sometimes you end up with dogs you didn't think would be able to go. They always seem to be the dogs who end up being the toughest."

This year Suprenant hopes to start with the 14 dogs that helped him cross under the burled arch last year in 49th place, his rookie race. Two years ago, Suprenant scratched in Elim during his first attempt at the Last Great Race.

"They're looking like a tough crew," he said about this year's team. "I certainly don't think they'll be in contention with the guys with 100 dogs.

Volunteers Diane Swedersky (in back) and Joyce Guest help prepare drop bags Feb. 15 for Iditarod Mike Suprenant of Chugiak.

"But I think with the dogs I have, we'll do well this year. We're just hoping for the best weather, conditions – and good luck."

Suprenant could have used a string of luck last year when he signed out of Rohn, a checkpoint high in the Alaska Range. Shortly after Rohn, mushers must first go through the so-called Buffalo Tunnels, a place where Suprenant took a good beating.

A gust of wind blasted his sled and tipped it near what mushers call "The Glacier," a series of frozen muskeg ponds that cascade down a steep hillside.

"I saw myself on an Iditarod.com video with my sled skating sideways," Suprenant said. Unfortunately, his balance could no longer take the force. He banged his body so hard into the ice he thought something broke.

"Oh, I was hurting," he said. "I thought I broke my hip. It was brutal."

Compared to Norwegian musher Bjornar Andersen, who was dragged over stumps and rock-hard, frozen tussocks hours before Suprenant's spill, the Chugiak musher was lucky. The thing that saved Suprenant's race was obeying one of the first rules of mushing: Never let go of the handlebow in such a situation.

Suprenant hung on.

"After three days and 250 Motrins, I was doing OK," he laughed.

From Takotna, where Suprenant took his mandatory 24-hour layover, he formed a simple game plan: Nurse the dogs and take it easy. He rested in Grayling along the Yukon River for nearly 23 hours while he waited out a ground blizzard – one of the nastiest in race history, during which temperatures dipped to a bone-numbing minus 50 degrees.

Although the waiting nearly drove him nuts, it paid dividends in the end.

"I went across the finish line with a team that looked spectacular," Suprenant said. "We had the fastest run from White Mountain to Nome. They were going strong and we had absolutely no issues. I think if we do that this year, I'm looking at a 10- or 11-day race."

Lisa Michael and Brad Leavitt chop meat snacks for Mike Suprenant's Iditarod sled dog team Feb. 15. Frends and volunteers came out to help Suprenant prepare his drop bags for the coming race, which starts Saturday.

Suprenant finished his rookie race in 15 days, 3 hours and 10 minutes with 13 dogs in harness. He placed 49th out of 52 (15 mushers scratched), but the standings were never his concern.

"You gotta have a time table and hope you stick to it," he said.

Suprenant will join Jim Lanier, 69, as the only mushers representing Chugiak-Eagle River. Last year featured five mushers from the area. This year will mark Lanier's 14th Iditarod, including at least on in each decade since the race's inception.

Compiling such a long race resume doesn't interest Suprenant.

"I'm thinking this will be my last one," he said. "I'd like to keep a 10-12 dog team and not have to do the grinding and training for the Iditarod."

With that in mind, Suprenant said only these thoughts will be on his mind between Anchorage and Nome:

"We're gonna go for it," he said. "We're gonna do it."

This article published in The Alaska Star on Thursday, March 4, 2010.