"Well, shoot." I'd thought about it for a long time as an option, and now, less than a mile from the Yentna River, with temperatures starting their nightly plummet to somewhere below zero, now I decided to try my idea.
I stopped keeping up with my friends, I sat down, took off my skis, took off my wet boots and aired out my wet socks, and proceeded to put my down booties on my feet and mount my skis and ski boots to my pack. It worked as well as I had hoped, and I set off down the trail in my new configuration...
The ITI. A 350 (or 1000 if you're crazy enough) mile race across Alaska's western half, from Anchorage area to McGrath (350) or Nome (1000). This year it was an out and back to Rohn, the last non-village checkpoint located 180 miles from the start. Ski it, run it, bike it. All are difficult. None are easy. All have weaknesses. I chose to ski it, based on my feet not being up for a week of travel, and my not having a bike. Also a lot of the competitors think skiing is the difficult option, so I wanted to prove that it's actually a rather simple and ideal option. (And skiing seems to be the most Alaskan option, minus doing it on a sled behind a dogteam).
The race takes place in early March, when daytime temperatures could soar above freezing, and nighttime temps could easily drop to -40. Snow can still fall in large quantities, and the wind can blow HARD. These variables mean a racer has to prepare for not only the likely forecast weather, but also potential windstorms, snowstorms, and extreme cold. They also have to be prepared for anywhere from 5-10 days out in the wilderness with only minimal time in lodges or wall tents along the way.
I spent a lot of time training, prepping, and troubleshooting gear to use on this race. I spent several thousand dollars in gear that I needed, and knew I would use for other things as well, that way it wasn't so expensive for just one use. I spent hours skiing, running, and doing some long skis on the trail with my friends Lars and Amber who were also skiing the race. With the start day coming up shortly, I felt ready, a little scared, and pumped to go out and try it! My gear was dialed, I had tested all of it, I had bivied before without a tent in the snow, and I was ready for a new tough adventure.
DAY 1
Day 1 we all met at the hotel, got a rapid covid test, and once our negative results came we loaded our gear on the uhauls, and ourselves onto a big school bus, and then drove to the start line at Knik Bar. We had to wait around for 2 hours until 2p for the start time, during which everybody got pretty cold and nervous and was itching to go. I had already waxed my skis with glide wax and base binder wax, and I applied kick wax for the day.
BANG! The start gun fired, and we were off. A horde of bikers took off first, and then the faster runners, and then the awkward skiers across the slippery ice of Knik Lake. The first mile was a frustrating line of people on a narrow trail, just like every trail race ever. I finally managed to pass most of the walkers, and the skiers got in front, and then I passed Lars and Forest and got in front of the pack. It was super fun conditions, and I was able to ski too fast for the first couple hours. I was quite excited to be off on my own super early in the race, and I didn't see another competitor for the next 3 hours probably. After I got off Flat lake on the western edge, some runners caught up to me and we yo-yo-ed the entire rest of the race.
Day turned to night, and I navigated the familiar maze of the Big Lake/Willow to the Butterfly Lake Cabin (Mile ~25) Checkpoint #1. I took one wrong turn (that I knew was wrong and still did it!) that added 2 miles to my total, but what's 2 miles out of 350? The northern lights were dancing as I skied up to the cabin, where I dried out my boots, dried out my gear, and ate as much as I could. I drank like 5 cups of hot Tang, it was so good!
At some point fairly early in the day, my feet were already hurting. Pretty bad, like a 6 or 7 out of 10 on the pain scale. I knew I would encounter foot pain, I just expected it more at the 30 mile mark each day, not at the 10 mile mark of the first day. I had to stop often and move my feet around, or play with my boots, or change my lacing. I stopped so much in the first 2 days to address this. My favorite way to alleviate the pain was to kick my foot forward and set the tail of the ski in the snow, tip up. This let my toes have some extra room, and felt good. I did this a lot.
I wanted to push all the way to Yentna Station Checkpoint #2 the first night, but the blowing snow and fresh snow made travel fairly difficult and slow, and I was already getting tired at 11p. I decided to bivy nap on a sweet spot I knew just above Cow Lake around mile 28 of the race. I set up, slept an hour, and woke up to what seemed like 20 people walking, skiing, and biking past my nap zone. I got up and chased them down, passing most of them in the dismal swamp as they struggled to snowshoe or push their bikes through thigh deep snow. Skis are great in those conditions. I made it through the swamp, through the woods on the old Iron Dog trail, and followed Lars and Amber's ski tracks across the Su in the dark, navigating places where someone got in overflow pretty bad, and places where the trail was a three foot deep trench that was extremely uncomfortable to ski through. I got onto the main trail near Scary Tree (the confluence of the Susitna and Yentna rivers, I guess there used to be a scary tree here) and slept when I couldn't stay awake anymore.
DAY 2
I set my alarm for an hour, and woke up when someone pushed a bike past my setup. I got up in the dark, it was probably 4 or 5am, and started skiing the 15 miles up the Yentna towards Yentna Station (Mile ~55) Checkpoint #2. It took me 8 hours to cover 15 miles. It was snowing, and wind into my face, forcing me to look down the whole time. The trail was covered, so it was tough to find a good place to ski well. The snow stopped around 1p, and after a few snowmachiners passed, the trail was much better to navigate. I got to Yentna late afternoon, worked on my shoes a little, but my feet still were miserable. I charged my watch and phone, and ate some food made by the wonderful Jean Gabryszak at Yentna Station. Lars was asleep there, Amber had already left, and a handful of bikers and runners were coming and going while I was there. It was still light outside, so I decided to go with Lars and Eric Johnson and Ray Sanchez on to McDougall's Lodge for the night, potentially. Only 14 miles up the Yentna, and I had heard great things about McDougall's.
I got a ways behind Lars and ahead of the runners, and it took me a bit of effort and wandering to find the actual trail to the lodge, but when I found it I was very glad I stopped. The lodge is gorgeous! They had good food, a warm house, and super nice people. I slept outside since I was in the bivy division, but it was the best night I had so far. I missed my alarm and slept a whole 5 hours, which was fantastic.
DAY 3
After an awesome breakfast burrito and some chatting with the runners about fun Arizona ultras, I waxed up my skis and headed upriver towards Skwentna. I was expecting it at about 18 miles, and it was only 15! That was a nice surprise. At some point along the way I stopped and took off my boots in the sun, and didn't tighten my laces on my left boot. This solved the pain in that foot, and my right foot wasn't hurting much. Only 3 days to figure out how to get rid of mind numbing pain, not bad.
Skwentna Lodge (Mile ~85)Checkpoint #3 was super nice. I ordered a plate of Biscuits and Gravy, and a cinnamon roll, and some Reese's candy bars. I drank up on coffee, and then set out for Shell Lake Lodge after an hour at Skwentna Lodge. Shell Lake was supposed to be serving food from 8a to 8p, and I wanted to get there in time to grab food. It was about 20 miles away, and it was almost 1p. I could make it easy. It was such a gorgeous day that day! I rolled into Shell Lake right as Lars was heading out. We waved at each other, and I walked into the lodge to eat a huge plate of spaghetti and an Alaskan Amber (which was delicious). I stocked up on some candy bars, and after meeting biker Bob Ostrom, I headed out into the twilight headed for Finger Lake, some 20 miles of flatlands away.
I made it about 7 miles out of Shell before I got super tired, so I stopped and took a nap behind some trees. I didn't sleep well, I had too much caffeine. But I slept a little, and then packed up (differently, which was much better than what I started with), and went on my way to Finger Lake (Mile ~120) Checkpoint #4. The northern lights were out, dancing dimly yet beautifully. I rolled into Finger Lake at almost 5a. Everyone was asleep. I hung up my wet gear, then went outside to sleep a few hours.
DAY 4
I woke up to Winterlake Lodge's kennel waking up, which was earlier than I wanted, but people were moving around. I got up and hung out a bit with the volunteers, got my gear worked out, and headed out into the brilliant sun about an hour after Lars, on a section of trail that multiple veterans said was very difficult. It was only 28.5 miles to Rainy Pass Lodge/Puntilla Lake (Mile ~150) Checkpoint #5, but it was known for lots of elevation gain and rolling hills. This portion was beautiful, but it ate me for lunch. I forgot until days later that I had pulled a 50 mile day the day prior and only slept 2 hours.
My left ankle started hurting during this portion, and I got myself through by deciding I would probably quit when I got to the next checkpoint. When I got wise, I decided to give up my bivy category and sleep inside for as long as needed, and make a decision to quit or carry on after sleeping and eating. I ran into the first place biker on his way back along this portion, and about 5 other bikers all headed back.
I got to the bunkhouse around 8 or 9p, and ate a burrito and then crashed in an open bed. I woke up at 3am when a bunch of bikers were prepping to attempt Rainy Pass, and I thought it was morning. Thankfully someone told me it was still 3am. I slept until about 8a, talked with the guys, and then got breakfast over at the lodge.
DAY 5
Oh man, that was a good breakfast. Coffee, eggs, biscuits, fruit, coffee, coffee, and wifi. That was enough to make me want to try for Rohn (Mile ~180) Checkpoint #6. I got my gear together, and after talking to Matt Tanaka about drive and regrets, I left before Lars for Rohn. I made really good time up the pass, it was beautiful, and I ate a burrito along the way all the way to the pass. I got to the pass in about 7 hours, and proceeded to ski down to Rohn in just over 4 hours. That was so cool to ski over Rainy Pass, down the crazy trail, and down the infamous Dalzell Gorge, complete with ice bridges at night! After a quick 3 mile ski/sail trip down the Tatina River glare ice, I rolled into Rohn and ate as much as I could and got to resting.
DAY 6
DAY 7
I wanted to ski 40 miles this day. That's to Finger Lake (Mile ~240) Checkpoint #7, and about 12 miles further. I had lots more fun on this portion going out of the mountains than I did going into the mountains, and I made it to Finger Lake early afternoon. I dried out gear, talked with the fellow racers, ate a whole bunch of food, and then set out for as far as I could get that night. I had excellent conditions with icy hard snow and a tailwind, and was able to push 5mph for the first hour out of Finger Lake. On the way back, our route took the Overland Trail from Shell Lake area to Yentna River. I made it about a mile past the turn before I was too tired and had to sleep. 43 miles for the day, not shabby. I set up camp, got all cozy, got passed by runner Ray (he's a freaking beast) and then did some inReach communicating back home that didn't enhance my sleep that night. But it was about -20 and the most uncomfortable bivy spot I picked the whole time.
DAY 8
I woke up around 4a, made oatmeal, and fell asleep again after eating it. I woke up again around 5a, and made coffee and melted some snow for my water bottles. I set out before 6, finding some old bivy spots pretty close by that were Josh and Jon's. I caught them within a few miles, and passed them as they were making breakfast. It was at this time that I discovered some gnarly blisters on my toes, but decided to wait until that night to address them.
Remember my story at the start? Yeah. That. I hiked about a half mile in my little down booties, which, while warm, felt an awful lot like walking barefoot in soft snow. I can't imagine it would feel good after a mile, let alone the 4 or so it was to the next checkpoint Yentna Station (Mile ~300) Checkpoint #8. I thought about it, and then decided the risk was greater than the reward, and changed back into my cold wet ski boots. The risk was that if my booties wore out or got wet, then my ski boots would be frozen solid, and I'd be at risk of frostbite or really difficult travel. I just sucked it up, pushed through the pain and discomfort and fatigue, and got into Yentna Station around 11p after pushing for almost 17 hours that day.
There was a party at the station that night, so after eating as much as we could, we waited for some of the wilder crowd to leave, and we slept on the floor in the far room. It was me, Josh, Jon, and Ray all there together. I slept like a dead person.
DAY 9 LAST DAY
I woke up before my alarm to Josh saying it was already 5 something, and so I got up and slowly stiffly got ready. I borrowed a needle, heated it red hot to attempt to clean it, and then popped both blisters and put neosporin on them and then bandages. It felt so good to do that! I then made sure to eat as much as I could and drink up, and we all started down the river towards home around 8a.
We stayed mostly together, usually strung out with 10 or 20 meters between us, but sometimes traveling together and talking. I got to talk a lot with Ray, who is a well known ultra runner around the world. Runners are the same kind of crazy, so we usually get along. We made good time along the river in the beautiful sunshine, having fun and talking and just enjoying the fact that this was our last 40+ mile push, 41 to be exact.
At Scary Tree Josh and Jon stopped for a while, and Ray and I pushed on. We were informed here that the trail we intended to take had been awful a few days prior, and were "strongly advised" to go down to Su Station for a 4 extra mile way around. I gave it some thought, and decided that since the Iditarod had happened the day before, and there had been a ton of snowmachine traffic in the area, the trail was probably in. And being on skis, I don't mind some deep snow. It's fun. So I caught up with Ray, showed him the best way to the trail, and it was in great shape. It was even firm thanks to being a day old.
Josh and Jon caught us pretty close to Flat Lake. We were having fun sliding down the big hills on Trail 6 snowmachine trail, Ray on his sled that he pulled, and me on skis. We weren't even traveling fast. We talked about favorite races, and how long we'd been running, and how we got into ultra running. We made future plans to make some big races in AK, and did some fun dreaming.
At some point we all decided to stick together as a group in the last few miles, and we got on the ice road on Flat Lake and Big Lake and marched off the last 6 miles together. I struggled along on my skis. Ice is difficult.
We all crossed through the finish line 8 days, 8 hours, and 20 minutes after we started! I was the first skier by about 25 miles, and the runners with me were 2nd, 3rd, and 4th place runners.
It was quite nice to stop for once, and enjoy the nice lodging that was arranged at the end of the race. I had a pizza delivered by my parents to the finish line, and we enjoyed a couple beers and then slept hard.
Here's some info on my ski setup!
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