For Those Who Want to Ski, I Forewarn You

Feel free to throw a little AC/DC tune in the title if you’d like.

There’s only been one skier who has completed the trip to McGrath more than once, and that’s only because they had planned on going on to Nome the second year. That said, nobody has ever signed up to ski the 350 to McGrath more than once.

So if you’re thinking about skiing to McGrath, I put together a few points and tips to make your overall life more pleasant:

1. Don’t. Seriously reconsider your alternatives. Biking is faster. Running is simpler. Create a spreadsheet about the reasons why you want to ski, and place a value of 1-10 next to each reason regarding how much pain each reason is worth experiencing (1 being no pain and 10 being the worst pain you’ve ever experienced). If any of these numbers falls below 9.5, skiing may not be for you.

Still set on skiing? Despite all the forewarning’s I received when I signed up, I still wanted to ski- so I understand. Here are some tips for those those of you bound and determined to “ski”:

1. Bring more than one pair of skis and poles. You can’t skate the whole thing, but the first and last 50 miles might be worthwhile enjoying some speed, especially if you know how to marathon skate. Also, skis break. A lot of skis start to delaminate on this course. A small carriage bolt and wingnut, combined with a hole making tool on a leatherman, can hold your ski together in a pinch. And forget waxing. Anything you can apply without an iron won’t hold up. Wax cold for durability before the race and don’t waste your time out in the cold trying to deal with it.
2. With the amount of classic skiing and walking up and down hills, wear boots with a soft ‘classic’ ski flex. You can classic ski in skate boots but your stride will be severely limited, and you’re more likely to cause blisters.
3. Bring studded running shoes. Even in the best years, some water crossings are actually sloped ice. Plastic ski boots offer you nothing but the opportunity to take a swim. The River out of Rohn is typically glare ice. You’ve watched Bambi on ice, right?  Plus you can’t count on snow the whole way so you might be walking on dirt for 10-100 miles.
4. Once you hit the hills, plan on runners starting to catch you. They don’t have to stop and take their skis on and off at every steep climb or descent. Plus they don’t have to take their poles off and break stride every time they have to deal with food, gear, relieving themselves, etc. They don’t have the struggle of having to hold onto poles and gloves as they do their thing. Skiers have more gear, therefore they have more hassles when they aren’t actively skiing.
5. Don’t plan on being guaranteed to take your skis off whenever you want to. Chances are you will go through at least one or two spots of overflow, wetting your binding and seizing your ski boots into the bindings. The only remedy is to get to a checkpoint, take your boots off, and walk stocking-foot through the snow into the building to thaw your bindings.
6. Have a good friend who owns a bike check your mental health. Bikers sometimes have valuable insight into the sanity of their friends.
7. Send large, comfortable shoes to the finish line. Throwing your ski boots on after you finish and walking through the airport in them is less than desirable.

The Desire to Win

A light-hearted write-up on the ITI 350 will follow, as it was a truly spectacular experience. However, I’ve got some very strong thoughts that I need to get off my chest. This may be controversial, direct, an possibly even offensive to some. But hey, it’s my blog. I am deeply disturbed by some actions I witnessed and there’s nothing commendable in a situation that was 100% avoidable. Read on at your own discretion.

I’m not sure how to start, so I’ll try using the silly adage of “there’s a fine line between tough and stupid”. When people say I’ve got a lot of endurance, I usually reply that I’m just too ignorant to quit. Which is true to a point, but I do have a limit at which I do call it quits- when I put the safety of myself and others at risk. I’ve pissed off a field partner when I lost dexterity in my fingers in July when a cold rainstorm rolled into the mountains near Port Alsworth, AK and I didn’t have enough layers to keep me warm. We had to call the day short because I wasn’t prepared for the storm. Because I was at the point of becoming a liability to not only myself but him as well. I might have made him mad but I had no regrets about knowing my limits, not letting my ego get in the way of our safety. We’ve all been under-prepared at some point. We either had to call it quits or tough it out.

The problem with this during a 300-mile race in the Alaska wilderness is that there’s not much opportunity to call it quits, and there may not be a means to tough it out (weather, injury, etc.). Which means you need to be prepared. Bubble-wrap may pass the ‘closed cell foam sleeping pad’ requirement for a 100-mile race, but you might as well use it as fire-starter if it’s -20F or below outside. If you’re counting on rationing your camelback for an 80-mile (30-hour) stretch between aid stations, you’re simply going to dehydrate yourself and be at increased risk of hypothermia from being dehydrated. There’s not much moisture in -20F air so you’re going to lose water from your lungs whether you’re sweating or not. Therefore, you had better bring a way to make water, and have tried it out at those temperatures. It’s DANGEROUS TERRITORY when you skimp on adequate gear just to lighten your load. Is the weight of a sleeping pad or stove worth risking your life over?

Besides gear, which is the simplest thing to criticize, our decisions are the other thing that can put us in danger. Criticizing decisions is difficult because #1 They’re so personal, and #2 You can’t judge decisions made in the field unless you were there. Decisions made in the field are easily criticized from a place of comfort where you have all the information, but to actually be in the situation is a totally different experience. I was there, so here I go…

I struggled HARD on the push from Puntilla Lake to Nikolai. From sleep deprivation during the middle of the night going through ‘the burn’, to intense foot bruising and  swelling, to dehydration getting into Nikolai. I was spent in all ways possible. The plan was to sleep for 3 hours to rest the mind and recharge the body a bit before the last 50 miles to McGrath. To have left by myself after that much physical and mental exhaustion would have been… (I’ll let you fill in the rest of that sentence). There needed to be rest. However, after traveling for a few days with someone, I felt compelled to immediately follow with nothing more than a bite to eat. Luckily my body wouldn’t let me with such severe swelling in my feet that I could only barely, painfully, get my ski boots on . Plus I had befriended a fellow racer who reasoned with me in such an understanding way that I was able to accept my condition. (It wasn’t too cold out (18F) and I knew I would be fine if I became too exhausted and had to sleep outside. I had the gear for it: two puffy coats, puffy pants, body warmers, sleeping bag and pad, stove and pot, ready for temps down to -40F. But why sleep outside if you’re in a warm building at a checkpoint?!)

I was the only male skier in the race. I had no potential for ‘losing’. I didn’t have the “DESIRE TO WIN” that allowed me to put myself at risk. Our egos are dangerous, probably the most dangerous things about being human. We must meet the expectations of our egos in order to feel good about ourselves. If we fail, we are not good enough.  Fuck that. So what if we don’t get first place? Will my wife love me less? Will I lose the respect of my friends? Will my dogs not want me to pet them? I sure hope all my relationships aren’t based on this. We shouldn’t have to prove our worth to anyone, including ourselves. With that said, ego-driven people are the most dangerous people to be around. They will do anything to get what they want. I have zero interest in being around something like that. But hey, if you’re going to let your ego control you at least make sure you’ve planned ahead so you’re not putting the lives of other people in jeopardy. And if you’ve got a family that depends on you, there had better be some reality checks on what’s important in your life before you do.

I am deeply disturbed by the desire to win. There’s nothing honorable or commendable in it. It’s 100% self-serving. But for some reason surviving through our poor decisions is more respectable and noteworthy than having the self-awareness to prevent that risk in the first place.

Everything I wrote is my truth. If it makes you mad then I’m even more glad I wrote it.

So to everyone who had a great race, whether you finished or not- CONGRATULATIONS!

 

 

Last thoughts before departure

As of Wednesday all trail reports looked swell. Then Thursday’s snow happened and we might as well be drawing straws. The forecast in Nikolai and McGrath is changing, trending from lows of +5F to now being at -11F. From my observations over the years if there’s a trend, you can usually exaggerate it by 50%. So my guess is we’ll be hitting lows of -20F along the rivers. And there’s the “chance of snow” in the forecast just about every day, which means maybe nothing or maybe another foot. All we can do is guess and either prepare for the worst or take our chances.

And… I just saw a photo from an Iditasport rider of about 10 miles of dirt trail somewhere past Rohn. Which means 10 miles of hiking in ski boots for me (I refuse to carry shoes for 350 miles if there’s only 10 miles of snowless terrain- make it 50 and I’d reconsider). Or with the current forecast will there be an inch of snow to ski on?  So many variables, so many choices and decisions on how much you’re willing to carry to be fully prepared vs. how much you’re willing to ‘tough it out’ with maybe not-the-best-gear for the situation.

But alas, my gear’s all ready, just sitting in a bin in my living room waiting for my final decisions when packing on Saturday. I finished making my ski pole pogies last night, added extra insulation to mt ski boot covers, made a chest pouch to keep things (contacts, lighter, handwarmers, etc.) warm, and devised a ski strap system to carry the extra skis and poles on my backpack/sled. My wife, Megan has completed my blister kit- shouldn’t need it unless there’s enough snow to make it a slog but when you need it you really, really need it. Blisters are incapacitating.

Besides all the normal anxieties that are coming up before we start, there’s a big part of me that is simply grateful that I am able to experience this. I recognize that not everyone can even attempt something like this, and it is an honor to be able to have the physical and mental capacity/fortitude/whatever to do so. There have been a lot of people involved in my life that have been a part of this being able to happen, and most of them probably have no idea how they’ve contributed or how important their roles have been. Especially that coffee farmer in Uganda that I’ve never met. 😉  So if we’ve met, if you know me, or if you’re reading this blog- I thank you!

I’m looking forward to being present and aware throughout this race, and to be able to enjoy every place I find myself.

P.S. If you would like to find me there’s live racer tracking. Just Google “ITI 350” and it should come up.

 

Ready or not…

(For my top-secret Trail 11 ultra-fast route, check out the previous blog post.)

10 days and counting. This is when we start to question our preparedness. Both physically and mentally, as well as our gear choices.  Gear is the easiest thing to change last minute, and I will probably debate over which pair of gloves or how much of what food to bring up until we actually start.

At this point the physical preparedness had better be finished, with some maintenance exercise to keep the body active while allowing it plenty of rest to build up energy reserves. In my experience (with other ultras) if I feel heavy and sluggish at the start, it’s a good thing. I don’t think you lose endurance stamina in a week- so it’s best to try and put on some weight!

Have I trained as much as I planned on or think I should have? Absolutely not. Have I prepared myself enough? I think so.

But I do believe it’s better to feel under-trained than to actually over-train. Over-training can put an athlete at risk for injury and increased chance of illness. (If you’re over-training then your body will find some way of stopping you!) With deteriorating discs in my back, my main concern this entire winter was being able to make it to the start without any setbacks from by back flaring up. If you’ve had a back injury you know what I’m talking about. Repeated weeks of laying on a floor staring at the ceiling, needing help walking to the bathroom, etc., etc.  (If you’ve never had a back injury, make sure you never do!) But right now I’m feeling about as healthy as I can. Not only confident that I’ll get to the finish but that I’ll actually be able to enjoy being out there.

Six years ago (before I was forced to stop racing) I would have gone into this race with one mindset: go as hard as I could as long as I could and suffer through as much as I could handle. Destroy myself to do my best.

So much has changed.

For my first ultra in 6 years… I plan on enjoying the hell out of this race! Every moment.

Racing “Smarter” not longer, but that all depends on conditions…

TRAIL 11

Save 3.3 miles… or don’t. This is based on my Feb. 10th trip. Feasibility is dependent on how much snow the Big Lake area gets and if any snowmachines get out there after the snowfall. But as of 2/10 this is what I plan on doing. I will be checking out the “Old Alfred Creek Trail” and part of Trail 11 again on 2/19 just to make sure.

Turn right just before the “NOME” sign (you will be able to see the sign, and the trail is just after the last patch of spruce on the right). Go three miles north along the swamp on “Old Alfred Creek Trail”. Take a left at the first intersection onto TRAIL 11.  “Trail 11” is fairly well used and wide, with 2 miles of narrow (single snowmachine track wide) trail somewhere in the middle starting at the intersection of “Trail 6”. Trail 11 will spit you out onto the Susitna River close to a mile north of the Flathorn route.

Note: There is one really steep bank on Trail 11 when coming out of the Fish Creek drainage, about 20 feet in elevation and seemingly close to vertical.  If you can manage this one struggle, the rest is fairly sheltered and straightforward. Even the swamp crossings are sprucey enough to block the wind.

Click on the links below for the tracklogs (use at your own discretion, and know that we all have different preferences when it comes to distance vs. difficulty):

Old Alfred Creek Trail

Trail 11