I’m working on a proper story about the Iditarod but, in the meantime, here are some stats!
I recorded the whole ride on my GPS and put it onto Strava. However, they are set up as private rides so that people can’t download the track file. Getting lost is part of the experience, and trying to follow these exact tracks might lead to dangerous situations on the ice as conditions vary from year to year.
Obsessions with the weather can get out of control before the Iditarod Trail Invitational. You can’t change the weather, but you can do your best to be prepared for whatever it might throw up.
Yesterday, it was -27C in McGrath. For the race start tomorrow, it’s due to be around 0C in Anchorage. It might seem like that’s all somewhere within the range of “cold”, so it’s not too significant. But it is still 30 degrees. You have to picture the difference between a sunny day at 20C and an “extreme” English winter when it hits -10C. Imagine packing for that kind of variation.
At one end, +1C means mushy snow, slippery partially-melted ice, open water, possible rain, and sweating into the clothing that you need for when it gets colder. At the other extreme, you can get a nice fast trail, but it will be cold enough for the breath to freeze on the way out of your body; too cold to breath the air directly when exercising; the grease on the bike will thicken and drag; metal will burn you on contact; compressed gas stoves won’t light as the gas won’t vapourise. And the old trick of throwing water into the air will cause it to freeze before it hits the ground
With this year looking tricky, I’ve brought along waders for river-crossings, and ice cleats for my shoes in case I need to walk on slick ice. Studded tyres are preying on my mind, but I don’t have the money to pitch at them and there don’t seem to be any left in Anchorage anyway.
So this is what the kitted out bike looks like:
A Singular Puffin (production instead of my old prototype). It handles great without the luggage (I’ve been riding it lots around Devon!), and surprisingly well with it. Lots of tyre clearance gives me space for 100mm rims built into wheels by Just Riding Along:
Luggage from Wildcat Gear: First, the new super-sized rear “Tiger” harness, in which I pack an expedition down jacket, waders, a spare tube and some stove fuel. Goggles and ice cleats are attached on the outside.
Next, a flared “Snow Leopard” frame-bag. Just a couple of rarely use tools, and the rest is all food. The gate-style opening on the non-drive sides means I can get every last crumb of food out of it. The thin pocket on the other side is great for stuffing wrappers etc. into without littering the trail. A hand-sized gap is left on the top-tube near the seat-tube to aid carrying. Double-wraps of velcro over the top allow you to fine-tune the tension across the frame bag and make sure can easily open the zips with one hand.
Up front, is a new super-sized “Mountain Lion” harness holding a canoe-sized drybag. With 4 straps across it, and an extended wrap going underneath the drybag, it’s stable and protected from the tyre in case of slippage. In the drybag is a -40C rated sleeping bag, silk liner, thermarest, stove, lighter, pot, fuel, synthetic down trousers, waterproof trousers, spare socks, a couple of those tiny camping towels (to stuff into my boots when drying them out), and big mitts.
Bars are USE Carbon Atoms. In a stiff wind they suck noticeably less heat from your hands than metal parts.
Dogwood Designs pogies are very warm indeed. Too warm for the conditions we’re setting out in, but having used them in Yukon-winds, they’re a solid piece of gear.
Nalgenes in bottle jackets keep the water situation simple.
And a Garmin Dakota 20 has the waypoints along the route programmed into it, so I will be able to get a vague idea where I’m going. The worst of the navigation is near the start where there are many snow-mobile trails going in all kinds of directions. Once you get out into the wilderness, there is often only one trail.
The front pouch is not a standard Wildcat thing, but I asked them for it because quick access to key items is really important in cold conditions. So, it contains more frequently used tools, pump, buffs, sunglasses, paperwork, iron supplements (there’s not a lot of broccoli on the trail), caffeine pills (not for regular use), and a toothbrush (it’s all to easy to neglect looking after yourself like that – keep the toothbrush handy, then you have no excuse to skip brushing).
Middleburn’s relatively new fat cranks provide the drive. Infinitely better looking than Surly, and much simpler to fit. I don’t have the weights, but they felt a lot lighter than the Surlys while fitting. I’m going with a 32:22 ratio that is a tiny bit longer than what I had last time to Nome.
General riding kit will be
So that’s it, the food is posted out along the trail, the bike is packed, there’s nothing to do but ride. Even riding around the parks in Anchorage has been a joy. I’ve been drinking in the big skies and mountains. The light feels so long and the air so crisp, that just being in Alaska is great.
Re-acquainting myself with folks at the Speedway Cycles pre-race party was fun as ever – and the usual question is who will you end up seeing more of on the trail? It’s a bumper crop of riders Nomeward bound, and I have no idea who is going to be where. All I can do is keep a level head and go for it!
Not that North, further.
So far North that the lakes and rivers are frozen hard. Where omnipresent snow has 100 different kinds of crunch under your feet. Where the nights are savagely, beautifully cold and accompanied by the dance of the aurora growling across the sky. Where wolves run and bears sleep. Where it can get so lonely that the wind is your only companion, leaning hard on your shoulders; chasing clouds on and off the stage.
The Iditarod Trail Invitational always looms large. It’s the race. The one I rode the Divide to train for. It haunts me, waiting for me to come back find out if I have learned anything since last time. There can be no better motivation for getting out in the wet Autumn weather than the fear of ending up on the desolate ice thinking, “If only I’d trained a bit harder”.
You will never appreciate a sunrise as much as the morning after pulling an all-nighter on the Iditarod Trail. When the temperature is so low that there is no way to breath without a face-mask. The moisture from your breath forms long icicles on the mask, and they poke your chest every time you look down. If you let the pace get too high and start to sweat, condensation forms on your goggles and freezes. You must balance clothing and effort against an ever-changing environment.
The night-time view through tinted goggles and a tiny head-torch is just a small patch of snow. Sometimes you can’t tell whether you are going up or down. There is no horizon to be seen. Your effort changes as the snow changes, and your fully-encased head is missing its normal cues about orientation.
So, as the invisible mountains become shadows, you want dawn to hurry along. Purple is drawn in vivid strokes, bringing hints of gold. But the shadows are still upon you. Sunlight is all around, but not a drop to warm your skin. And finally, it comes. A couple of degrees of heat. A boot to the black thoughts of the night. The gold seems to go on forever before the day becomes whole, and there seems to be no finer place in the world.
That is just part of the reason why.
The strategy of racing against people over days; the camaraderie with the other riders; the mushers and their dogs; the people who live in the remotest places with the warmest welcomes; the self reliance of bivying out on the ice with everything you need on the bike. So many reasons to go back.
The wherefore is coming together now. A different bike – A Singular Puffin with fun handling and 100mm rims. Different kit setup – just bikepacking bags (from Wildcat Gear), and no racks. A whole new level of experience with sleep deprivation (see the final day of the Highland Trail). The experience of having been to Nome once already. Lessons learned about how to take care of myself out there.
With a thousand things to do other than train for the race, choosing what to do is going to be crucial. My “plan” is long road rides to maximise time on the bike vs. travel time (although getting moved in to North Devon should solve that problem). Regular MTB, because it’s more fun and better for upper body strength. The MTB will be a mix of the Swift and the Puffin. It’s important to ride the bike with the wide BB plenty to acclimatise your knees – I suffered badly from knee pain in Iditarod 2011 because I hadn’t ridden the Pugsley enough. And regular running to make sure that joints and muscles are ready for spending time on my feet, dragging through snow.
There is a ton of work to do on my fitness before February, but fitness is never the whole story over 1000 miles. The certainty of my drive to finish, and to push hard is the most important thing. Alaska can through a so many things at you. Only the motivated and adaptable will flourish. So that’s what I’m aiming to be.
So, Helen Skelton is going to “become the first person to use a bicycle to help her reach the South Pole”.
A few exaggerated claims in this BBC article are causing some annoyance on the internet. It claims that in the 500 miles trip she will “hope to set a new world record for the longest bicycle journey on snow”. Bad news for her: I and numerous others have already completed the 1000 miles Iditarod Trail Invitational race in Alaska. It doesn’t invalidate her trip, but it does show a lack of respect and understanding for the existing state of adventures on bikes.
It is often observed you can test your motivation for a trip very simply. Would you do it if no-one is looking? If not, then maybe you shouldn’t be there. When the road gets hard, how will you respond if the reason to keep going is not inside you?
That test gets muddied by the issues of sponsorship and charity, though.
Regarding sponsorship, I just wouldn’t be able to go on some of my adventures if I didn’t have the support of some great companies sponsoring me (cough! bottom of the page! cough!). It is only fair to them that I return their help by trying to get them some exposure in the media. Many people find themselves in the same position.
Regarding charity, the best way to raise money for the charity is to really sell the adventure.
Both of these are legitimate reasons for getting your story out there. They are reasons to seek nice soundbites; claims of records that you will break; whatever else.
That’s fine as long as you can stay factually accurate and use no sleight hand to present your trip as harder than it is.
Celebrity adventures do nothing to diminish those of people that don’t get to appear on BBC Breakfast. The experience of riding my bike to Nome was so overwhelmingly intense that I would never be able to fully explain it anyway. The likelihood of people mentioning Helen Skelton when they hear about it in the future doesn’t harm my fundamental experience of it. The ride burns brightly in my memory.
I would love to have the kind of financial support that celebrities get to achieve their goals, and I’m a little jealous of it. That’s probably why people get so excited about the subject. But I do get by and I do get to keep going on adventures, so I can’t complain.
Good luck to her in her trip. (But I rather suspect that a bike with a 80kg sled will be about much use to her as the ponies were to Scott)
I have removed this post as a version of it will probably be appearing in The Ride Journal later this year. More thoughts on the Iditarod to come, though, including getting lost on the sea ice and competing with Jay on the run-in!
Well Aidan made it! He was head to head with Jay and gave us a very exciting finish as it was close between them to the end. Aidan came in 2nd in an amazing time of 17 days 9 hours and 15 minutes. He has become the first ever single speeder to successfully make it to Nome and he has completed the 1100 miles race 5 days quicker than the former record of 22 days.
When I spoke to Aidan, he was happy to have finished, he was eating like a horse and felt ok. He told me that the winner of the race the year before had gone out on his snow machine to see who was leading the last leg. He saw that Jay was in the lead by about 1 hour. When Aidan heard this he realised that Jay would reach Nome first so he decided to kick back a bit and enjoy the last part of an amazing journey, he met people to chat to on his way in and cruised into Nome late Wednesday evening.
He is now back in Anchorage catching up with himself, Bill, Kathi and other people he knows. I will be flying out on Tuesday as we are going to travel around Alaska together in a car, not a bike to see the sights and to enjoy it from a different angle!
I am sure you will get a much more detailed and accurate account from the Champion himself soon.
Until then…… Three cheers for Aidan, hip hip hurray, hip hip hurray, hip hip hurray!
Well done Aidan, you did an amazing job, we are all really proud of you!
So I left it last time that I had hoped to hear from Aidan the next day at Kaltag. I in fact got a call from him that night, he was in good spirits and making brilliant progress. I got another phone call last night as he had reached Elim and was pushing onto Golovin for the night. At that point Aidan was ahead of Jay Petervary and the race was certainly on. Jay and his wife Tracy have parted company, therefore sending a clear message that he was intending to up the pace to the finish. Aidan has accepted the challenge and is pushing on hard. At the moment I have butterflies in my tummy as Jay reached White mountain 1 hour ahead of Aidan but with 3 hours less rest than Aidan has taken, they are now on the trail for the final 70 miles!
This race is going to be over by the time we open our eyes in the morning (UK time), Bill the race organiser thinks they will finish in 3-4 hours of me typing this entry.
All three of them, Aidan, Jay and Tracy are going to smash the existing southern route record of 22 days by miles as it will be 17 days if all goes to plan! Amazing!
Now we just have to keep our fingers crossed and keep urging Aidan on not only to become the first single speeder to Complete this magnificent ultra endurance event but also to be the one with his name behind the new set record!
Go on Aidan go!!!
Hello!
It has been a while since I last updated Aidan’s where abouts, so here goes. I spoke to him Friday morning (5:30) UK time as he had just reached Anvik. He was stopping there that night whilst the Petervary’s went onto Grayling. He sounded good and commented on the fact that he is looking forward to seeing the ice formations further along the way as I think the scenery is a bit too familiar for Aidan now!
He mentioned that he had to stay at Iditarod for 48 hours as there was no trail out of there. Now that the dog mushers are passing through there should be trails for them a fair way now. Conditions are amazing, a lot of sun and it would seem that there has been little snow fall during their time on the trail.
Aidan left Anvik Friday morning (US time), picked up some supplies and hit the Yukon river. Kathi has told me that it is here that Aidan could hit strong headwinds, snow drift and a trail that requires a lot of pushing. So far the weather report is showing low winds and sun, so lets hope that this rings true and helps Aidan complete the next 130 miles to Kaltag with ease!
I am hoping Aidan will reach Kaltag later today. This will be the next check point that I may hear from him if he gets a chance.
He did mention that Bill and Kathi have bought a pizza at one of the checkpoints and the person that gets there first, gets it. I think it could be Kaltag and so maybe he will beat the Petervary’s to it! I know that it is a carrot on the stick for Aidan and I also know that he will be taking the idea of pizza very seriously so lets hope he gets it!
The following link is to Jay and Tracy Petervary’s pictures, there are a couple of nice ones of Aidan:
http://www.facebook.com/l/11a4fhkTJsC2ylsWOsYff_Lol2w/www.flickr.com/photos/noidletour/5518003260/in/photostream
This is a bit of an unchecked brain dump. Apologies for any incoherence. And thanks to Emily, Gillian, Mum + Dad, and everyone else for your support. It’s great!
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Well, I made it to McGrath in just under 5 days.
It’s been a much more steady effort than last time I was out here. I have been getting good sleep and trying to make sure I’ll be strong for Nome. Here’s a short blow-by-blow account:
Billy Koitzsch and I set off together and made great progress on day 1. We used a shortcut that we had found the previous weekend (you can take any route, as long as you visit all the checkpoints), so that saved loads of time. Riding up the river, the headwind was strong. But my new best friends, a snow-machine mask and some ski goggles kept me feeling good and the only way I could even tell it was windy was the snow being blown up all around me.
At Yetna Station, I managed to exchange boots with another racer who took my identical ones while I slept. So, I took his and made for Skwetna. It was more windy river riding, but the trail was still very rideable and I was making sure to get plenty of food in. Just after we had left Yetna, though, Billy stopped to take care of some business telling me to carry on. I didn’t see him again until Skwetna at which point he said he was leaving the race due to knee pain. I was really sad for him – there is so much effort to get here and such a shame for things to end so early. Even more, John Ross was also dropping out due to crash damage to his shoulder.
There was nothing I could do to help, so I said goodbye and headed for Shell Lake. As before, the hills were beautiful and it was another majestic Alaskan day. I went straight through Shell, aiming for Finger Lake by dark. The trail was rideable, but I was feeling the distance and hoping every corner would reveal the checkpoint. Eventually it did, and I got the same warm welcome as always from Wintersong Lodge. I’d only had 4 hours, so some proper sleep was necessary before moving on.
Next up was the crushing climb to Puntilla/Rainy Pass Lodge. 35 miles with some proper mountain biking over bumpy, twisty terrain. I rode it fast and hard. By the time I reached the checkpoint, I could easily take an hour to relax before heading up to Rainy Pass. The only fly in the ointment was knee pain. After riding so hard to Puntilla, my right knee was hurting badly. Right under the kneecap and bad enough that I would have bailed in a normal race.
But this is not a normal race and I rode the first section approaching Rainy. As usual, the trail became too soft to ride as I got close to the pass so I busted out “Horton”. A roll-up sled based on Billy’s ideas and fabricated by the pair of us. I took my bike apart, fitted it onto Horton and had a much easier walk than expected up the hills.
The snag came literally when my handlebars started to catch the edges of narrow trail. I waggled and persevered for a while, but instead of taking the bars off, I just decided to re-assemble the bike and push. Unfortunately, I had dropped my multi-tool when first making the sled and could not re-attach my wheels to the bike. So, with wheels only just on and one knee singing with pain, I carried on up to Rainy Pass.
Once again, I stayed in the cabin near the top of the pass. Partly to rest my knee and partly to get my head together. I couldn’t get my wheels in securely so I would have to push all the way to Rohn. I could only hope another bike would catch up and I could borrow their tool. The Pass itself was outstanding – clear skies and not too much wind gave me great views and I even noticed that there’s a sign up there. Something I had never seen before. I trudged down a rideable trail, sometimes scooting like a postie, sometimes just walking. I trudged along the gorge. I stopped to appreciate the silence and the snow gently falling around me. I trudged some more.
Minutes after I got to Rohn, 3 other bikers arrived. Including Janice Tower and Joe Pollack who had found and brought my multitool. I hugged them, and looked forward to riding again. Inside the checkpoint, Rob was as welcoming and awesome as ever but I didn’t stay too long. I had had a good night’s sleep already and could get some way to Nikolai before sleeping.
Moving up through the New Burn, lots of frozen lakes, and into the Farewell Burn, I was in a world alone. In the daytime, I saw Bison. After dark, through the yellow goggles and the faint light of my head-torch I couldn’t tell whether I was climbing or descending. I was plenty warm enough while I was moving, but my bottom bracket was beginning to freeze and my cranks would not spin smoothly. Eventually, I was done and very appreciative of my -40C sleeping bag for my bivvy.
Going down was easy (except getting my stove to light at that temperature), getting up was hard. I would do a quick bit of packing, then shove my hands back in my jacket until the feeling came back. I repeated until I was ready to go (with chemical warmers in my shoes and pogies), and hit the trail. It felt like another awesomely long road to Nikolai. At first straight and bumpy, then straight and gently climbing, then winding through swamps forever. The blue skies and rideable trails were just as good as normal but, for the last couple of hours, I just wanted to be there.
Nikolai was another fantastically welcoming checkpoint – even though they don’t “get” vegetarian food. They found 9 bars interesting to look at, but preferred chunks of meat for actual consumption. It was too early to sleep and I was a bit tired to go on, so I just hung around for a bit. It was really nice to see Bill Merchant come in there and to be able to catch up with him. But in the end, I had to get some miles to McGrath.
I set off, wanting to get there in one go, but knowing that a bivvy was a realistic possibility. I went out fast to achieve McGrath, but the temperature was too warm for fast. I sweated into my outer layer (I was only wearing merino base + a softshell) and as the night grew cold, the sweat froze into a husk. Now I was cold and tired. It was nearly midnight. Bivvy time again. A night of wacky dreams and a long ride in the morning ensued.
Right now, I’m happy to be in the company of Peter and Tracy Schneiderheinze at the checkpoint. I’m eating, cleaning, and will later be sleeping. I’m feeling pretty good, much better than in 2009. I feel like I spent most of the race sleeping! Hopefully that will leave me strong for the continuing journey…
Hi all.
So at the moment communications from the check points back to Kathi (one of the organisers of the race) is a bit slow, probably due to the sheer amount of hungry bikers mouths to feed as and when they come in, not leaving a lot of time for telephone calls.
I did leave the last post with the fact that I was hoping to see Aidan having reached Rainy pass by the time that I had woken up. I was pleased to see that he had. Now I am predicting that he must be on his way to Nikolai. I have been looking at how many hours are between him and the lead racer. It is 19 hours. Based on this I am predicting that Aidan should arrive into Nikolai around 11am UK time or 2am Alaskan time tommorow morning. Other than that I have no real idea as to what part of the trail he is on!
John Ross (Shaggy) a friend of Aidan’s from here in the UK, was also racing this year but sadly had to retire due to a crash which has injured his shoulder. He has told me that Aidan was looking strong and that ‘Horton’ his sledge seemed to be his secret weapon as he seemed pretty comfortable.
The lead racer is stopping at McGrath so my only other thought is that Aidan may stop to have a longer sleep so he is able to endure the 1100 miles in a more sane kind of mind (I say kind of, as I am sure some of you are already questioning his sanity!) However lets hope he reaches Nikolai by 11am tomorrow morning!