2020 Iditarod Trail Invitational 350

The starting line of the 2020 Iditarod Trail Invitational in Kink, Alaska

The Iditarod Trail Race also known as the "ITI" is a 350 mile human powered race that starts in Kink, Alaska and ends in the town of McGrath Alaska. The trail is unmarked and goes through the Alaskan Range and traverses across several rivers, lakes, and lots of snow.

Just getting to the starting line of this race is an adventure in itself. Coming from North Carolina, you're looking at taking three flights minimum, and roughly thirteen hours of flying time. Then another two hour long bus ride to the starting line.

On Sunday afternoon at 2:00pm the gun sounded and the race was on. It was time to see if all the 3:30am wake up calls to get up and run 10 miles before work, another 5 miles during lunch, and a 40lb weight vest hike with the dog & kids in the evening's would pay off. Obviously being a 350 mile self-sufficient race the phrase "pace yourself" has a whole different meaning then when starting a marathon or 10K race. Per the race rules, you are allowed a total of ten days to complete the race to be credited as an official finisher, I had estimated the race taking me between six to seven days if I could manage to keep things in my control. I also knew that this was just a rough estimate at best. Traveling this many miles through the Alaskan backcountry in the middle of winter anything could happen. A blizzard could come through and you could be bedded down in a tree well for three days without moving one foot. The saying goes when the weather is good you better move, because it's just a matter of time before the weather will turn and you'll be moving at a snails pace, if you're lucky.

It was on the warmer side, (29°) at the start. That may sound ideal for a winter race, although it's a bit too warm to be considered ideal conditions. It's tough to manage/regulate your body heat in the 30° - 35° temperature range, plus the snow is soft so its like to walking in sand - taking an enormous amount of energy just to lift your legs for each step you take. Ideal conditions for winter racing is between 0° and -10°, you don't tend to sweat, and the ground is nice and firm making for fast travel. One of the difficult things about traveling through Alaska during the wintertime is temperatures can range from 35° to -60° along with rain, mixed sleet, and heavy snow, therefore when packing your gear you need to have the proper clothing for a wide variety of temperatures and conditions.

Being a self-sufficient race means you carry all of the necessary equipment needed to survive for 350 miles through the Alaskan backcountry, while the list of equipment can vary between competitors as well as which method of propulsion you choose, the standard list of needed gear and supplies apply to all; food (you will typically burn between 6,000 - 8,000 calories per day at a minimum), sleeping bag (rated between -40° to -60° depending how you manage to sleep in the cold), foam and/or air mattress to insulate your sleeping bag from the snow, a white gas stove to melt snow for drinking water, and a down puffy jacket (also know as the "when shit hits the fan jacket").

The famous Iditarod Trail

During the early miles of the race I had the urge to hydrate more than I normally do in winter races. I wasn't too concerned, I carry a 3-liter camelback hydration bladder on my back which I can typically travel 50 miles before the need to stop off the trail and melt snow for my drinking water. At the rate I was consuming my water I knew it'd be a lot sooner than 50 miles. I was hoping to be able to at least make it to Yentna before filling up, which was around mile 59. That didn't happen, as soon as I reached the river I decided to pull over and melt snow. Not a big deal, other than its a bit time consuming to get everything out to melt snow. Plus most people don't realize that snow is 90-95% made up of air, so you can imagine how much snow it takes to melt to get 3 liters of water.

The good news is there was plenty of snow around to melt for water.

I came into Yentna Station, the first checkpoint the following afternoon. Much later than I anticipated due to the heavy snow on the trail. I was surprised to see so many bikers there. We were now about 60 miles into the race, and I figured that all the bikers would have been way ahead of me by this point in the race. When there's a lot of snow on the trail, the bikers are forced to push their bike rather than ride their bike which makes for long slow miles.

Looking back at my gear.

As I left Yentna Station to get back out for some more miles on the river I came across a dreaded moose on the trail. The worse animal you can come across in the deep snow is a moose. There was a lot of snow on the ground in Alaska, anywhere from six to ten feet, so the moose take the trail to travel just like we do. The problem is that the trail is only about four feet wide, and moose are very territorial. They are also very hungry and angry because the snow is so deep and they can't go where they please. If you encounter a moose on the trail you are basically in a holding pattern until the moose decides to leave. This could be 15 minutes or 3 hours. In my case it was almost almost an hour before he decided to to go on his way. A skier in the race wasn't so fortunate, while on the trail he encountered two moose, one ended up going the other way, the other one not the same case. Click on the link below for the video:

https://www.facebook.com/iditarodtrailinvitational/videos/647690769331082/

At this point I was just barely 24 hours into to my race and much further behind than anticipated. I continued marching along the Yentna River. I saw many moose, fortunately they were all well off trail along the river bank so no more close encounters at least for now. The Alaskan Range was now in my sight, I would be going through the range in around two days. It was a confidence booster just being able to see the big mountains in the far distance ahead.

Eyeing the Alaskan Range in the distance ahead.

It's hard to describe how remote you actually are out here.

By now the temperature had dropped and the trail started to firm up, which is a good thing. Firm trails make for faster travel. Wearing snowshoes was still a quicker option than without. I continued to push onto the second checkpoint which was Skwentna Roadhouse which would be at mile 90.

My one obligatory selfie pic of the race.

I ended up reaching Skwentna Roadhouse around 10:00am on day two. This ended up being a good place to stop for a field repair I had to make due to my waist harness breaking on the trail a few miles back. Luckily I was able to be creative with some bobby pins to make it somewhat repairable. The trail conditions were good so I elected to get back on the trail and push on and try to reach Shell Lake by night.

Arriving at Shell Lake Lodge

Later that afternoon I reached Shell Lake. I proceeded to walk across across the large frozen lake to arrive at the lodge. I came across a small plane parked on the lake. Out here on the trail there are no cars or trucks driving around. The only method of transportation is only snow machine or small plane... or in my case travel by foot pulling a 45 pound sled behind you. Upon arriving at the lodge I was greeted by a trail angel. A trail angel is someone that you encounter out of complete randomness that offers you something to eat or drink that you weren't expecting. In this case the trail angel was Kari's mother Rhende. Kari was a female athlete that also competing in the race. I had met Rhende a few years back while she was volunteering at a race in Wisconsin I had competed in. Rhende made me a cheeseburger which tasted awesome due to not having any warm real food in a while. After I ate I gathered up my gear and it was time to keep moving. It was now around 1:00am and I was out on my way leaving the lodge heading towards the next checkpoint which was Finger Lake.

The northern lights were on full display heading into the Alaskan Range

I was pretty tired leaving Shell Lake Lodge in the middle of the night. I had realized that it would have been better to rest some more at the lodge rather than head out at the time I did. I was still behind timewise from those initial miles in the deep heavy snow and I wanted to get back on my original projected pace and try to finish the race in six days. It was very hard to stay awake, around 3:00am the famous northern lights came out and did their thing. This was the first time I witnessed these in person. It was truly amazing to watch. This was just what I needed to keep me moving until daybreak, by then the sun would come up and I would get a new wind of energy heading into Finger Lake.

Me loaded down with all my gear heading towards Finger Lake (photo credit Ryan Wanless)

As I got closer to Finger Lake I ended up catching up with Ryan Wanless. I met Ryan a few years back at Arrowhead 135, another winter race that's held in International Falls, Minnesota. Ryan and I proceeded on to Finger Lake which was a ITI checkpoint located at mile 130.

Headed towards Finger Lake in a massive headwind that the photo doesn't do it justice. (Photo: ITI)

As Ryan and I were getting closer to Finger Lake the wind started to pick up. This was Alaska weather in full force. I've only been in wind this bad two other times - one was coming across a frozen lake at Arrowhead, the other was during a winter summit on Mt, Washington. We finally arrived at the checkpoint, I was exhausted from traveling throughout the night along with the nasty weather kicking the crap out of me, so I immediately got my sleeping bag out and got a couple hours of some much needed rest before proceeding onto Rainy Pass.

The official Rainy Pass sign. This is a place very few people have ever been here due to it's remote location deep in the Alaskan Range.

Arriving at Rainy Pass Lodge was a huge feeling of accomplishment. Granted this was only mile 150 of a 350 mile race, but it still felt really good to make it here. I was able to get a hot meal from the lodge which ended up being lasagna and a coke. I gathered up my items after my meal and headed out to go through the dreaded pass and head towards Rohn. Leaving the lodge I ended up hooking up with Daniel Cooper, Daniel was another foot racer from Australia. He spent a lot of time in the special forces, I really liked this guy. Daniel and I kept leap frogging one another from the start of the race. There was already a common bond between us for enduring the same elements for the past four days.

As we headed away from the lodge and proceeded through the pass, the wind began to pick up. We made a left turn, the pass opened up and then the wind REALLY began to pick up! The sun was now setting and things were getting real. Going through Rainy Pass is one of the most notorious sections of the entire race. You are literally on your own in terms of self rescue from the time you start the race, but while you are traversing through Rainy Pass it's a whole different level. There are no places for an emergency plane to land in the event of a rescue situation, so you either need to continue to Rohn or turn back towards the lodge. Either way you NEED TO KEEP MOVING!

As the wind continued to pick up even more, Daniel & I would continue to purposely lead and follow one another. The wind was so strong that we would take turns shielding one-another for 10-15 minutes before we would alternate again. This was strategic teamwork at its finest. One thing I would do while Daniel was blocking wind for me is to navigate the trail with my GPS device. Any previous markings on the trail from snow machines, bikes, etc... were completely gone. Somehow during all of this I managed to miss a important turn we needed to make. We were now heading down Hells Gate. Hells Gate is a section that is taken when avalanches are at high risk in the Alaskan Range. This section is roughly 50 miles longer, so you want to avoid the extra miles if at all possible. This was probably the worst situation I've been in, cold, dark, tired, hungry, and potentially lost. The weather was so fierce it was all you could do just to keep moving, never-mind getting something to eat or drink. After about 3 miles of making the wrong turn I then realized I messed up and navigated us the wrong way, I was so frustrated with myself for making such a costly mistake. I immediately got my bearings back and began to work on getting us back on track. Once I knew where we needed to go I tried taking a shortcut to get there to avoid adding even more miles. I began to cut across unknown terrain called the Happy River Valley which ended up being a huge mistake. I found myself in knee deep overflow. Luckily I had told Daniel to stay back while I attempted the shortcut so we both didn't get into the overflow. Overflow is when the weight of the snow on top of the ice presses the ice down and creates watery slush. The slush can range anywhere from four inches deep to four feet deep. The very last thing you want to be stepping in -40° temperatures is water. The last time I was exposed to cold water immersion like this was back in 2015 when I swam from Alcatraz island in San Francisco. I was in the frigid bay water fighting massive ebb & flow tides for about an hour with no wetsuit and was borderline hypothermic and close to going into shock when I reached land. Not a pleasant experience to say the least. Now I know why they decided to put a prison to hold notorious criminals there.

Me just after finishing the Alcatraz Invitational swim in 2015. I almost passed out just minutes after this photo was taken.

As we proceeded through the majestic mountains the wind had finally calmed down and the dark night turned into a mountain filled morning.

Leaving Rainy Pass headed towards Rohn

The next morning I finally reached Rohn. Rohn isn't much, it consists of an airstrip for bushcraft planes and a small cabin. The first thing I did was get my sleeping bag out and go to sleep. I knew when I left Rohn I'd have a hundred mile journey to the next village of Nikolai. I needed to be well rested prior to leaving. I ended up getting about four to five hours of good sleep. Probably the best sleep I've had in the past four days. Once I awoke I packed up and headed towards Nikolai. My goal was to try and make it to Nikolai in two days.

As I got closer to Nikolai the weather began to turn again. This time it was snow, wet heavy snow. As I got about five miles from Nikolai I was so tired I couldn't go any further without rest. This really sucked because the checkpoint in Nikolai was at a community center, which meant a warm and dry place to rest, and I was just a few miles away but I was absolutely wrecked. I had been traveling for two and a half days with no sleep and I had to stop and get some rest. So after an other mile I gave in and got my sleeping bag out and took a three hour nap in the snow. I woke up with about six inches of snow on my sleeping bag and gear. All my gear was wet and damp, shook as much off as I could and packed everything up and proceeded to Nikolai. As I got about a mile from Nikolai I passed about three bikers that were in the race bivvying (sleeping) in a tree well. After seeing this I didn't feel so bad for pulling off to sleep only four miles from the checkpoint, these guys were one mile from the checkpoint. It just goes to show you how physically wrecked a person can get, having to stop while riding a bike, only a mile from a nice warm place to sleep.

The heavy wet snow in Nikolai

I arrived in Nikolai in the middle of the night. I was so glad to go inside a actual building with walls and a roof. It was nice to get out of the weather, even if it was only for a few hours. I ended up getting some more rest and warm food, and it was now time for the final fifty mile push to the finish of the race in McGrath.

Watching the sunset leaving Nikolai heading towards McGrath

I rolled out of Nikolai around 11:00am to hit the trail, about an hour later the trailbreakers came through for the Iditarod Dogsled Race. These trailbreakers consist of 4-5 individual snow machines with sleds on the back of each one of them. These trailbreakers are about 24 hours ahead of the front running dog teams. The race I was in starts one week prior to the iconic Iditarod Dog Race that runs from Anchorage to Nome.

It was nice to see the trailbreakers come through. If it wasn't for the dogsled race there wouldn't be a trail. Due to all the miles of the route that is on rivers and lakes, the trail is non-existent in the summertime, and without the trailbreakers during the winter months much of the trail would be impassable.

Around twenty-three hours after leaving Nikolai I reached the village of McGrath. I came across a small handmade sign that was stuck in a snowbank that read "ITI Finish 1 Mile Ahead". I was excited to see this sign. After being on the remote trail for 7 days, 20 hours, and 35 minutes I had reached the finish line coming in 4th place. Immediately upon arrival I was greeted by Gavin, the race winner. This was a really cool gesture for him to come out to the finish line and congratulate me. It meant a lot to me, especially with the temperature being -31°!