When the Iditarod dog sled race was established in 1973, it marked the beginning of what would become one of Alaska’s most enduring winter traditions.
In the decades since, the race has expanded to include additional categories, such as the human-powered Iditarod Trail Invitational, opening the historic trail to athletes traveling by foot, skis and bicycle.
This year, a Park City endurance cyclist is returning to the trail with a purpose that extends beyond the finish line.
Matt Garretson, who completed the full 1,000-mile Iditarod Trail Invitational for the first time last year, will set out again Feb. 22, this time to raise awareness and funds for the Indigenous villages that make the historic race series possible.
“My objective is to increase awareness and show gratitude through tangible support for the families and villages who have sustained these historic trails,” he said. “I also want to recognize and celebrate their unique culture, generosity of spirit, and resilience, which are essential to the fabric of our country and its future.”
Garretson’s path to the race began long before he even knew it existed. After growing up racing BMX and mountain bikes, he eventually discovered bikepacking — multiday, self-supported travel — and quickly took a liking. He began taking weeklong trips, gradually pushing farther and longer before turning his attention to what he learned were considered the sport’s “big epics:” the Great Divide route from Canada to the U.S.–Mexico border, the Baja Divide from northern Mexico to Cabo San Lucas, and the Iditarod.
He began with the Great Divide then the Baja Divide and used both of these routes as “resume builders” toward earning an invite to compete in the Iditarod Trail Invitational. Those efforts, combined with two successful finishes in the 350-mile version of the Iditarod Trail Invitational — a required prerequisite for entry into the 1,000-mile race — ultimately earned him the opportunity to attempt the full route for the first time last year.
After finishing the race last winter, Garretson had planned to step away for a season. That changed after learning about the impacts of Typhoon Halong, which struck western Alaska in October, flooding villages, damaging water systems and forcing widespread evacuations just months before race season.
“You get so attached to these villages once you go through them,” Garretson said. “You meet the people, you understand how hard they work to support the races and how intertwined the events are with their culture and their communities, and to see that so many of them got hit so hard, I decided to go back.”
The Iditarod Trail Invitational is one of three major endurance events associated with the Iditarod name, alongside the iconic dog sled race and the Iron Dog snowmobile race. The human-powered invitational — completed on foot, skis or fat-tire bikes — spans up to 1,000 miles through some of Alaska’s most remote terrain.
While the Iditarod is often viewed through the lens of sport, Garretson said its survival depends on far more than competition.
Long before the trail became a race route, it served as a network of lifelines connecting Indigenous communities across frozen rivers, sea ice and interior wilderness. Today, those same villages host checkpoints, break trail, store racers’ supplies and open schools and homes to exhausted athletes moving through extreme winter conditions.
“They’ll put you up in schools, invite you into their homes, cook you a meal, let you sleep on their floor,” Garretson said. “No one expects anything; it’s just given from kindness.”
Once racers pass the 350-mile mark, that village-based support becomes essential. Garretson said families track racers’ progress on their phones and gather to welcome them regardless of the hour, offering warmth and encouragement along the demanding route.
That level of selfless kindness he experienced on the trail stuck with Garretson, who said it’s foreign to so many people in today’s busy world.
“It was flat-out amazing,” he said, “and kind of a reminder that maybe we need to stop and be a little more present in our surroundings and to others and our communities.”
Despite the central role that the local people play in the success of the races, Garretson said the contributions of these communities are often invisible to the broader public.
“People think of the Iditarod and they think of the dogs,” he said. “But they don’t really understand the support that goes into it.”
Motivated by highlighting the support and by the compounding challenges facing western Alaska communities due to climate change, reduced sponsorship and storm damage, Garretson approached race organizers with the idea of a grassroots fundraising and awareness campaign centered on the villages themselves.
With support from the executive team behind the Iditarod Trail Invitational, the initiative was shared this year with participating athletes, with plans to expand in future seasons.
The effort focuses on small donations, education and sustained engagement rather than large sponsorships, Garretson said, with the goal of recognizing and supporting the families who have sustained the trail for generations.
“Once you study it and you know it, you realize what an important part of our culture it is, and what an important ingredient in that big melting pot,” he said. “I think it’s really a cool and important thing to sustain, something that people can be proud to support.”
Garretson will begin traveling north Feb. 18 ahead of the race start. This year, he said, his personal goal is less about performance and more about presence.
“I don’t care if I finish earlier or later because that is really controlled by the weather,” Garretson said. “Over 1,000 miles, you can have days where you’re stuck because of a blizzard, and you can have days where it’s rolling like pavement. To go back and enjoy it for what it is, and be a little more present when I’m in the villages — a little less stress — that’s my goal.”
Conditions on the trail vary dramatically from year to year and often shift hour by hour. Garretson said he approaches the race using a methodical mindset developed during his first 1,000-mile attempt, breaking each day into manageable segments rather than focusing on distance or finish times.
“You don’t think of it as 1,000 miles,” he said. “You think about the next hour.”
For Garretson, that mindset reflects the lessons he said he has taken from the villages along the route, where adaptability and perseverance are part of daily life.
As he prepares to head to Alaska and begin pedaling toward Nome, Garretson said he hopes others will take time to learn more about the communities he is riding for and consider getting involved.
For those interested in tracking his progress back home, race organizers publish live tracking on the Iditarod Trail Invitational website, allowing the public to follow competitors as they move along the route.
To learn more about the journey or make a financial contribution, see Garretson’s page on Given Gain.