Tread
12:10 a.m.
March 9, 2006

by Tyrell Seavey

Ultimate Iditarod's coverage of the 2006 Iditarod sponsored by:

John Wayne has nothing on Tread. Tread is tougher, meaner and uglier… not to mention an Iditarod Champion. Tread is a fluffy, 70 lb. lead dog who was recently featured in an Iditarod Insider interview. He has competed in the last 9 Iditarods consecutively and finished in the top 5 three times including his championship run in 2004 that earned him the Golden Harness Award (for the best leader, voted on by the competitors) at age 8. He has been featured in numerous magazine articles and has been the mascot at IdidaRide Sled Dog Tours for the last four years. This dog has more Iditarods under his belt than the average human competitor in this year’s race. Now at 10 years old he has landed himself the less-than-glorious position of babysitter. He is somewhat begrudgingly leading 15 squirts fresh out of the puppy lot to Nome with my older brother Dan.

This dog has been around our kennel forever and growing up with this dog is a story in itself. Tread never learned the finer points of human relations and he never felt the need to live up to any particular standard when it came to manners or etiquette. Somewhere along the way he got some wires mixed up in that shaggy black head of his and his favorite sign of affection is a deep throaty growl. And this dog growls like he means it. I can’t guess how many unsuspecting tourist he has scared the denver omelet out of when he approaches them tail a’wag and growling like a sasquatch. I helped my grandfather, Dan, train for his Silver Anniversary running of the Iditarod in 1997 when I was 12 years old. Tread was 18 months old and training for what was to become his first Iditarod. At that time Tread was not a lead dog and because of his less-than-friendly attitude my grandfather always let me run him in the chase team. The dog ran in wheel (the position closest to the sled) and entertained himself by eating my equipment. One night during a rest break Tread set himself to the task of chewing on the lines and he didn’t stop until he had all five of my dogs loose. The dogs were settled in enough they didn’t run off but it took me over an hour to repair my lines. When I hooked him back into the team I tried real hard to convince him how much I disliked him and how much I wished he would have taken advantage of his freedom and run off somewhere really far away. Apparently the feeling was mutual because he tried repeatedly to mark my leg as I lined the team back out. I swore right then and there I would never give up my bootlaces again to repair anything for that worthless mangy critter.

Through the years Tread’s tricks and jokes never grew old… to him. Eventually we realized that the problem with Tread was that he had too much energy and during a particularly tough Iditarod my dad promoted him to lead of the racing team. He stepped up to the challenge and became one of the best leaders the race has ever seen. Since then we have all become much more understanding of Tread, but he hasn’t changed his antics a bit. He still growls at all his friends. He still doesn’t like to run in lead except during races. He still throws his weight around in the team and acts like he owns the place… but in a sense he does. Tread is one of the dogs who put the Seavey Racing Team on the map and he has earned some leeway when it comes to behavior. As far as this puppy team stuff goes, he complains a lot about having to hang out with the punks, but he is no idiot. He knows he isn’t the spring chicken he used to be and I am confident he is all smiles on the inside. He may not be out setting records or bucking through storms to win trophies like he did in the old days but he is still doing what he was born to do, what he lived to do, and what he will do long after he dies. He is still cruising the miles and miles of trail in the heart of the Alaskan Wilderness, ears pinned back, tongue lolled to one side, grinning from ear to ear.