For more than a decade now, Hän Gwich’in musher Jody Potts-Joseph—the mother of model Quannah Chasinghorse—has been involved with Alaska’s traditional sled dog races, but her memories of the sport begin much earlier.
Alaska Natives have used dog sleds as a means of transportation for hundreds of years; Potts-Joseph, who was born in Fairbanks but is based now in Eagle Village on the Upper Yukon River, has run them since she was little. “I was raised in the back of the dog sled. Everyone around me had dog teams.”
Over the past five years, however, Potts-Joseph has been taking the art of sled racing more seriously. This past weekend, she took part in Alaska’s 2026 Iditarod race (otherwise known as “The Last Great Race”), becoming the first Gwich’in woman ever to do so. (Her daughter, Chasinghorse, was right there to cheer her on.) “Gwich’in women are pretty strong and tough, so I’m surprised that I’m the first,” Potts-Joseph tells me a few days prior to the race. “I just love being out on the land with my dogs. I don’t ever get lonely on the trail because the dogs are my best friends.”
On Saturday in downtown Anchorage, Alaska, fans and loved ones came out to celebrate the Iditarod race’s 37 mushers as they ran an 11-mile kickoff course. The official race, however, kicked off the following day, in nearby Willow, Alaska, where Potts-Joseph and other mushers embarked on a 1,000-mile trail arcing northwest, toward Nome. It’s a journey that can take anywhere from 10 to 20 days—a serious test of endurance. “It’s an awesome experience,” says Potts-Joseph. “It’s peaceful and quiet, and it’s nice to be on my homelands. I’m running trails that my grandpa and my ancestors ran, so that’s super special.”
There are certain rules that all of the Iditarod mushers must follow throughout the race. Each team comes with a musher and up to 16 dogs: Potts-Joseph’s team, the Raven Clan Kennels, includes her dogs Coki, Natrah, Loki, Bodil, Lebowski, Stoller, Sunny, Ninjuu, Revna, Freya, Coconut, Ginger, Anna, Stormy, Kobuk, and Blaze. “We have to finish the race with at least five dogs in harness,” says Potts-Joseph. “Coki is an outstanding lead dog—super smart and well-trained. Stoller is a veteran. This is also going to be Blaze and Kobuk’s first Iditarod.”
Training for the race, Potts-Joseph says, is as much about building mental stamina as it is about being prepared physically—and that’s also true of her dogs. “Any endurance sport takes a lot of mental strength—I just try to manage their health and happiness, as much as any other human athlete,” she says. On average, Potts-Joseph and her team will be running about a hundred miles a day during the race. “I’d be happy if I finish in 12 days,” she says. “There’s checkpoints along the way in Native villages, so in advance, we’re able to send out drop bags with supplies, gear, and dog food.”
Given the race is a longstanding Alaska Native tradition, the event also encourages a striking display of cultural flair. When word got out that Potts-Joseph was running the race back in December, it did not take long for her community to rally around her and craft special outfits for her and her dogs for the occasion. As a result, all 16 of Potts-Joseph’s dogs are outfitted in custom beaded blankets made by Indigenous artists from Alaska or First Nations artists in Canada. “Within 24 hours, I had over 30 women that wanted to make a beaded blanket for my dog team,” Potts-Joseph says.
The blankets made vivid additions to the more practical harnesses, leashes, and snow boots that all of the dogs must wear on the snowy trail. “They’re all so beautiful and powerful,” says Potts-Joseph of the bespoke blankets. “A lot of [the artists] put prayers in for me and my dog team with every stitch—it felt very meaningful.” The Fairbanks-based artist April Monroe even hand-beaded an image of Potts-Joseph’s dog Flash onto one of them. “He was a foundation dog for her team, and many of the dogs running the race with her today are his children and grandchildren,” explains Monroe.
Potts-Joseph, too, had to cultivate a racing uniform that was both practical and stylish. Naturally, strategic layers—especially those made with materials like down—are crucial for staying warm during the race. “What I’m most proud of is that I wear a lot of our Native gear,” says Potts-Joseph. She combined beaver and hide mitts with mukluk boots that she’d made with her mother, and a marten fur hat she made herself.
The tradition of dressing up for the race has been in place since Potts-Joseph’s ancestors were running sleds. “Back in the day, a lot of people lived out on the land and were nomads, so anytime we all gathered somewhere for an event, we dressed our dogs in their best beaded blankets,” says Potts-Joseph. “The outfits were a way to show pride in their dog team, but also to pay honor and respect to the people who you’re visiting.”
In the process of completing the race, Potts-Joseph also hopes to encourage the next generation of Alaska Natives to take up traditional dog sled racing. (Chasinghorse, for one, grew up with the sport.) She views mushing as a powerful form of cultural preservation. “People will say mushing is a dying sport, but for me, it’s not a sport—it’s a way of life,” Potts-Joseph says. “There’s a lot to be said for the traditional knowledge that our people hold about the land, and our animal relatives. It’s carrying on a tradition. I grew up this way, and my connection to the land and my culture has really been my greatest strength.”
For that reason and more, she approached the 2026 Iditarod with a sense of pride and confidence, less concerned with winning than simply enjoying the ride. “I’m just going to be super thankful. My family’s planning on going to Nome to be up there at the finish,” she says.
“I’m going to really thank Creator for the safe passage through all these lands—some of the most remote, tough, cold, dangerous in the world. I’ll just be thankful to get there in the end!”
