Balto-Fan

The storm had come in like it was riding the back of Judgement Day. The Great Serum Run was nearing its end.  After five and a half days and 674 miles. Some twenty different dogsled teams had successfully relayed the medicine over the journey, but not without hardship...and tragedy.   Several of the human mushers had sustained disabling hypothermia and frostbite injuries and at least six dogs had perished due to exhaustion and the unbearable cold.   By midnight on February 2nd, 1925, as the next-to-last sled team was preparing to arrive at a roadhouse in Golovin to make the final handoff of their precious cargo, the wind chill was nearly 60 degrees below zero.  The snow drifts were blocking all the paths into Nome.  Visibility was so poor that some of the mushers pom some of the dogsled teams could barely see beyond the first pair of dogs closest to their sleds.   The only thing even more determined than the storm was this particular team of seven dogs...seven small hearts, led