In the small town of Nome, located in Alaska, next to the Bering Sea, a diphtheria epidemic broke out. It was the winter of 1925, the coldest recorded in twenty years. Weather conditions prevented access to Nome by air or sea, but the situation urgently required the supply of the antitoxin to avoid the catastrophe.
They could take the medication by train to Nenana, but from there to remote Nome was a distance of a thousand kilometers. The authorities decided to transport her on dog sleds, organizing relays along the way.
They called twenty teams of mushers. The one led by Leonhard Seppala and his dog Togo had the reputation of being the best. It was said that the rapport between the Norwegian and the husky was unique; It fascinated anyone who saw them work together. A simple look or a gesture demonstrated the respect and admiration they had for each other.
Known for his resistance, courage and iron will, Togo also sensed danger before anyone else. There was no doubt, Seppala and his beloved Togo would make the longest and most risky journey, the one hundred and forty-six kilometers.
With black, brown and gray fur, and small in size, Togo had been an unattractive and sickly puppy, although restless and very naughty. That husky would never be a sled dog, but a domestic animal.
Leonhard had tried to give him away on two occasions, but without luck, because the puppy escaped from his new owners and returned to him. Togo belonged to that land. He was attracted to sleighs, snow and Seppala dogs. He longed to live in a pack. Although he didn’t measure up, he was related to the wolf and was a descendant of a former canine leader. Was it so difficult for that human to understand him? Or was he just as stubborn as him?
At eight months, driven by his enormous desire to work and his innate desire to run, Togo decided to chase Seppala’s team, distract the dogs and get them out of the way. A new trick by the husky to get the attention of his caregiver.
Leonhard grabbed a harness. Togo remained motionless as she sensed his intentions. His brown eyes widened expressing his immense joy. He let the frame be put on and began to pull the sled like no Seppala dog had done before.
As the race progressed, the musher changed Togo’s position. At the end of the day, he shared leadership with the top dog. The animal had traveled eighty miles on its first day in a harness, something unheard of for such a young and inexperienced dog. The musher was not surprised. He loved and respected his animals, but that husky was a true “prodigy.” How had he not realized before? Why had he underestimated him on so many occasions?
At twelve years old, Togo traveled with Seppala and his dogs the longest and most dangerous stretch of a race against the clock. In the worst winter conditions and sub-zero temperatures, his role was key in delivering the antitoxin. Togo knew it. I love him too.
They suffered from the effort of the first few days exposed to intense cold, but they continued forward. The serum was estimated to be effective for use within five or six days. Aware that the epidemic outbreak in Nome was worsening, the musher chose to cross the icy waters of the Bering Sea, between Cape Denbigh and Point Dexter, to save time. Leonhard trusted the intuition and strength of his loyal husky. Togo trusted his master’s decision.
Those thirty-two kilometers seemed endless. The sheets of ice crunched under his paws, while the hurricane wind hit the sleigh, the bodies of the animals and Seppala, who gripped the reins tightly to control it.
Togo was not intimidated. He raised his chest in defiance of the wild and hostile territory before him and ran, attentive to his instinct, to avoid the most fragile plates.
Hours later, the dogs, exhausted, and Seppala with signs of hypothermia had crossed the sea. But Togo did not stop, he continued to the north shore refuge of Norton Bay. There they could regain strength.
After the brief rest, they faced the final stretch: a succession of ridges along thirteen kilometers. At the limit of his strength, with barely any visibility in the middle of the storm, Seppala couldn’t find his way. In desperation, he turned to Togo to guide them once more. Giving up was not an option. They knew they had to arrive; the serum race depended on them. Togo, in a last effort to transport the medicine, pulled the sleigh up the mountain to Golovin, one hundred and twenty-six kilometers from Nome where relief awaited them.
They would complete the journey of more than a thousand kilometers in five and a half days, setting a world record.
The team led by Togo had traveled one hundred and forty-six dangerous and long kilometers to save the population of Nome from diphtheria.
Togo had become a true hero, conquering the hearts of Seppala and all of Alaska forever.
The story of Togo provides us with an opportunity to reflect on Nietzsche’s concept of the “will to power.” For this German philosopher, that means something more than the pure “will to live” that Schopenhauer spoke of, whom he had read and from whom it seems that he was inspired to overcome it. According to Nietzsche, the “will to power” is not simply a force that drives the individual to mere survival, but rather pushes him to excel, to give the most of himself. He rebels against all types of weakness, submission and slavery, even if that requires superhuman efforts. This attitude means facing the paradox that the affirmation of life sometimes requires bordering on death.
Togo could have survived as a domestic dog. He was offered opportunities to adapt to that easier life, a life of comfortable survival. However, from a young age, the husky showed exceptional determination to make the musher realize his aspiration to be a sled dog. His instinct told him that there he could bring out the best in himself. And he did not give up until he was recognized as a leader in the Seppala team.
The serum journey was more than challenging, but Togo and Seppala’s determination and courage allowed them to overcome any obstacle. Togo, in particular, exhibited amazing resilience and “a will to power,” even if he had to reach the limit, to fall completely exhausted.
Ultimately, the story of Togo and Seppala is a powerful example of the human and animal capacity to resist and triumph in the face of adversity, thus embodying, in its purest and most moving form, something that Nietzsche probably wanted to express with his concept. of “will to power”.
