Report from McGrath

I can't believe I'm actually here. It's going to take a few days to process the experience, but I spent some time reading up on all the race coverage. I followed the coverage religiously last year, and it's amazing to me how differently my race was interpreted from what was going on in my head. I set a solid pace in the beginning because the trail conditions were phenomenal and I was doing the sleep deprevation thing ... three hours the first night, four hours the next. But after Puntilla Lake, it became a very different race. Everyone had to do the slog over Rainy Pass ... the leaders broke trail; those of us behind had to negotiate the postholes. That's 45 miles at an average pace of 2 mph. My bike weighs more than half what I do and I struggled with the slog. I eventually bonked and had to bivy several miles below the pass in a kind of deep cold I have never before experienced for that long. I was well prepared for the possibility, but it's a different experience when you have run out of energy and you are nested in a snow bank, huddled in a sleeping bag and cuddling with your ice water. You know you're going to be OK, but it's hard to not be scared. Still I woke up several hours later fired up for more race. I just wanted to get to the Rohn checkpoint and pressed hard again. I came to an open stream crossing that was running knee deep, which at subzero temperatures is a big deal. But I was in a hurry so I wrapped my garbage bags around my legs and quickly duct taped the tops, then hoisted my bike and stepped right into the creek. But the bike's weight and rushing water were too much for me to handle, and I dropped the bike. In my panic to keep it from falling over I leaned into stream and water rushed down one of my legs. Luckily, I managed to only get the wheels wet. And he derailluer froze. But I had a soaked boot. Also luckily, I was only about 10 miles from the checkpoint and it was a hard walk the entire way, so I never had to deal with the potentially serious consequences of a wet foot. But that was a big mistake. A bad decision. I checked into Rohn and spent 17 hours drying my boots and thinking about the error of my ways. My decision to continue on was based in a resolve to set a more comfortable pace and make good decisions. And I did make good decisions. From there on out I was surrounded by the immensity and awe of Interior Alaska, apprehensive at times but never in danger. There will most definitely be a long and detailed trip report to come, with whatever pictures survived my camera's habit of cutting out in temps below 0. Thanks again to everyone who has followed along.

Report from Nikolai

Sorry to everyone for the concern.

I am doing the best that I can. It probably seems that I have slowed way down but that has mostly been my way of dealing with the cold and being out here in Interior Alaska by myself, which is causing some anxiety and has made it hard to sleep even when I am stopped.

I took a hard fall at the Post River waterfall (the trail actually goes up a waterfall) and pulled my right hip flexer muscle. This has made it really painful to push my bike uphill, and my pace over the millions of small hills before the Farewell Burn was downright glacial ... take three laboring steps and stop, repeat. Luckily, it is pretty flat from here on out. Hopefully I can get through this without further injury.

Cold weather has been a struggle. I bivied just below Rainy Pass one night as I pushed my bike through the knee-deep snow for 45 miles. My thermometer bottomed out at 20 below. I bivied again last night at Sullivan Creek when I kept literally falling asleep and falling off my bike. I woke up after three hours and set out to pack up, but it was so, so cold. Everything was frozen solid. My chemical warmers had turned to ice bricks and I couldn't make them go. I crawled back into my bag and waited another couple hours before attempting again. Again, couldn't quite handle the cold. I finally just decided to wait until daylight and stayed in my bag until 10 a.m., but didn't sleep much. I woke up to a 35 mph headwind and single digit temperatures. Ground blizzards were out of this world. Again, glacial pace.

So that's my story. I am definitely a rookie out here, but I am learning tons, and having good times along with the bad. The Farewell Burn is surreal, and I can't believe I actually rode a bike out here. I didn't even realize until I read this message board that I was challenging Kathi for a record time. Believe me, that was never my goal. I am trying to finish. And survive. I am warm and full of moose stew, with 50 miles to McGrath that I should be able to complete in one push unless I have a problem. (And I do plan to keep moving, because I have no problem staying warm on the bike.) I am hoping to be finished by Saturday evening. Thanks to everyone, love to my family. I will report again soon.

Reunited

Pugsley and I had a happy reunion at Speedway Cycles yesterday. He is in the best shape of his life ... a new freehub, fully winterized, a single speed hub and cog on the front wheel in case I have any trouble with the rear drivetrain, new crank, new cassette, new brake pads, new chain, new computer mount, all lovingly put together and adjusted by the great mechanics at Speedway. We went out for an eight-mile ride on the precariously icy bike paths of Anchorage. Everything felt amazing. I can only hope I'm in as good of shape for this ride after my long rest. I feel pretty good. I'm so nervous now that my hands shake a little when I think too much about it, but I am excited. The weather forecast looks promising to say the least. If the weather holds up even close to what they're predicting for the next week, the race to McGrath could see some of the most comfortable conditions it's had in years (a little cold along the Kuskokwim, but it nearly always is.) Trail conditions are a different story, but even the potential shape of the trail is holding a lot of measured optimism from the people who know what they're talking about. This may even be easy. Just kidding. It won't be even close to easy.

We were able to meet many of the racers at a party at Speedway Cycles last night and an official race meeting this afternoon. It was a lot of fun to put faces to names. There is one man from Japan who speaks very little English, knows nobody in Alaska, and just showed up to run the 350 miles to McGrath. A really cool guy. He smiled more than anyone else I've met this weekend. He never stopped smiling. We kept trying to tell him how brave he is, but he didn't understand brave.

I have most of my gear set up and am nearly ready. We're burning a little time at a coffee shop because the woman whose house we are staying at is throwing a Vietnamese New Year party tonight and is currently in the process of trying to make 1,000 pork dumplings. (Literally : One Thousand). She put Geoff to work building a big barbecue and chopping cabbage as I mounted my front rack and sorted my gear. The place is in chaos right now and we're just a little hesitant of the rager that awaits us when we return. Luckily, we will be able to carbo load on dumplings before heading up to the relative quiet of Palmer tonight to try to sleep before the race. Everything starts at 2 p.m. Sunday.

I'm hoping for time to type up final thoughts before the race start, but in case I don't, here are a few more race links:

Iditarod Trail Invitational message board
Wasilla weather forecast
Skwentna weather forecast
Puntilla Lake weather forecast
Nikolai weather forecast
McGrath weather forecast