Unleashing potential.

Byline: MIKE STAHLBERG The Register-Guard

BEND - Central Oregon is going to the dogs this week, and Jerry Scdoris couldn't be happier about it.

Scdoris, a University of Oregon graduate who began his sled dog career running a team of Siberian Huskies on the beaches of Southern Oregon, first envisioned holding a world-class sled dog race in Oregon more than 20 years ago.

By then, Scdoris had moved from Gold Beach to Bend. It was while taking his dog team on solitary runs through the mountains of Central Oregon, he recalls, that "I dreamed of a `stage race' format, like the Tour de France bicycle race, with stages to be held near Bend, Sisters, Prineville, La Pine, Sunriver and Mount Bachelor ... I wanted other mushers to see how incredibly beautiful this country and these trails I've trained on for years are."

That dream became a reality Monday, when Scdoris sent a "Who's Who" of the world's top mushers off from the starting chute on the first leg of the AttaBoy 300 "Race for Vision," a new seven-day World Cup sled dog race.

The event continues today with a 47-mile loop in the Ochoco Mountains east of Prineville, moves to Newberry Crater near La Pine on Friday, followed by a dash from Sunriver to Mount Bachelor on Saturday and a concluding figure-eight Sunday in the Mount Bachelor area. There is no charge for spectators.

The $50,000 purse put up by the makers of AttaBoy dog food drew top professional and amateur mushers from as far away as Quebec City. Among them are several veterans of the sled dog racing's most famous event, the Iditarod, held every March in Alaska.

Doug Swingley of Lincoln, Mont., who has won the last three Iditarods, to go with an initial victory in 1995, was an obvious pre-race favorite. And he wasted little time showing why.

Swingley's team won Monday's 47-mile swing through the snow-bound Cascade Lakes highway by six minutes. Then he posted a five-minute victory Tuesday over a 40-mile route from the Sisters area to Santiam Pass and back. Each of those victories was worth $1,000 - 20 percent of the $5,000 daily purse. Plus, Swingley had a comfortable lead in the competition for the fastest overall time, which is worth another $3,000.

Other top contenders include Dean Osmer, of Clam Gulch, Alaska, winner of the 1984 Iditarod, and three-time European champion Jacques Philip, and Tim White, a six-time winner of the Canadian National Championship. Libby Riddles of Homer, Alaska, who in 1985 became the first woman to win the Iditarod, came to Oregon to serve as race marshal.

But perhaps the most important name that Jerry Scdoris called out Monday morning in his dual role as race director and official starter was that of his 16-year old daughter, Rachel.

"I don't even know what to say about this young lady," Scdoris said, his voice cracking as his daughter's team moved to the start line. "I am totally speechless right now ... I think I'm a lot more nervous than Rachel is."

The proud papa might have said that, if not for Rachel, his dream race might still be in the dream stage.

Rachel Scdoris was born with a vision disorder known as "congenital acomatopsia," which left her legally blind. And her ability to compete in professional sled dog races in spite of that handicap no doubt influenced the dog food company's decision to become the "lead sponsor" that Jerry Scdoris had long been searching for.

In any event, Rachel is the poster girl for the "Race for Vision." One race banner features her picture on a bag of dog food, with the "Boy" in the "AttaBoy" logo crossed out and "Girl" written over it.

One of the event's goals is "to raise awareness around issues facing visually impaired individuals and athletes," including the need for additional ophthalmology research, Scdoris says.

Battling disease is an honored tradition among mushers. Indeed, the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race was begun to commemorate a famous mushing marathon in 1925, when teams of sled dogs carried serum needed to save the children of Nome from a deadly diphtheria epidemic. Twenty mushers and 19 dog teams took part in the relay that carried the medicine across almost 1,200 miles of frozen wilderness during the dead of winter.

Meanwhile, after the last racer had left the starting chute Monday, Scdoris did find the voice to talk about his daughter's abilities - which go beyond dog racing (she runs track and cross country at Redmond High School, where she's a junior, and sang the Star Spangled Banner at the race banquet) - and about her disability.

"Rachel went on her first dog sled ride when she was about 18 months old," he said. "She started running dogs when she was about 3, and she took her first real team out alone when she was 8. She ran her first race when she was 11, won her first race when she was 12 and last year she raced in her first World Cup event and became the youngest person in the history of sled dog racing to complete a 500-mile race."

How is a legally blind person able to do all that?

"She can see the first set of dogs in front of her," Scdoris said, "but each set farther out gets progressively `softer' as she calls it."

Race officials do make one concession to Rachel's condition: She is allowed two-way radio contact with a snowmobile rider who warns her of any hazards, such as a low-hanging branch over the trail, she may be approaching.

Jerry Scdoris told the 75 or so spectators gathered for the start of the race that "Rachel might have an advantage here over some of the other teams because her dogs are used to the elevation and the heat - it's very warm."

Sled dogs are at their best when temperatures are somewhere between 30 below zero and 5 above, Scdoris said. And most of the teams from Alaska are used to working at sea level. Most of the AttaBoy 300 course lies at elevations between 3,600 and 7,200 feet.

Alas, Rachel's home-course advantage apparently didn't help much. She finished 25th out of 27 on Monday, when rain that began falling two hours into the race turned the course slow and mushy. She seemed embarrassed by the attention of several young autograph seekers at the finish line. "If that never happened again, it would not bother me," she told a reporter.

Most of the competitors took the mushy snow conditions in stride.

"This day was excellent and we're looking forward to six more just like it," said Jim Gallea, a 21-year old pre-med student at the University of Montana who ran the Iditarod in 1999. "It was a little different ... the trail got a little soft and things, but it's all right, you know, because these guys have to be pretty good about running through everything - even in Alaska you can actually get some rain sometimes, so it's good practice, whatever we do."

Like most of the competitors, Gallea ran his sled behind a team of huskies, which are small and lean, most weighing in at 50 pounds or so.

"A lot of people probabaly expected to see great big dogs," Scdoris said. "But a great big dog in an endurance event would be like me running - even though I can slog out a marathon in about 4 1/2 -hours, those little 5-foot-six, 118-pound Kenyans can beat me by about 2 1/2 -hours."

Sled dogs are "endurance athletes," he said. Not every dog races every day, however. Each musher is allowed 16 dogs, but can harness no more than 12 a day. Most teams went out with eight or 10 dogs in harness; but one musher uses only eight, assuring him a full team of rested dogs the next day.

The racers' patience got another test Tuesday, when the temperature soared to near 50 degrees and the start of the second leg had to be moved about a mile due to insufficient snow. Inadequate parking available at the substitute starting site and other logistics problems led to a 90-minute delay in getting the second stage underway.

Scdoris, however, appeared unphased by the setbacks.

"We're just going to turn this around and have a wonderful day," he announced to by-standers and volunteers who gathered for the announcement that the start was being relocated. "We're going to make it happen."

And, make no mistake, Scdoris is the one who's making his dream happen, even though he's rounded up a lot of help to go along with a budget that's "well into six figures."

A crew of 540 volunteers - ranging from snowmobile riders who set the track for the race course to veterinarians who check the dogs before every race to people who help park spectators to the 210 "host families" who are housing the competitors in the various communities - is helping him unleash the potential for sled dog racing in Oregon.

CAPTION(S):

Race workers help Rachel Scdoris, who is legally blind, line up her sled at the starting line for the first stage of the "Race for Vision," a World Cup sled dog race promoted by Scdoris' father, Jerry. Gwen Holdman of Fairbanks, Alaska leaves the starting line at Mount Bachelor on Monday on the 47-mile first leg of the seven-day, 300-mile AttaBoy 300 Sled Dog Race. She was one of two women to finish among the top six racers in each of the first two stages of the race. UO graduate Jerry Scdoris is race director.