|
February last
year had me arriving at Anchorage airport amidst snow storms and sub zero
temperatures . Hardly your standard summer vacation, but I couldn't wait
to don my thermals and snow boots so I could get out and pound the snow.
With less than a week to prepare for the Iditasport race I had plenty
to learn about the Alaskan wilderness ... and the local culture. Within
24 hours of landing I found myself the target of a police raid. I was
a suspected prowler in my host family's house while they were at work!
Being thrown against the wall and having three Magnums pointed at me (and
I'm not talking ice creams here buddy) was a chilling introduction to
American culture. It took forever to resolve that I was merely a crazy
kiwi here to go biking in the snow. Discussion of fanny packs and bum
bags really got them going and nearly resulted in me being smashed to
the ground "as I reached for my bum bag" to show them my passport.
 I
was in Alaska for the "Iditasport Human Powered Ultramarathon", which
is a derivation of the eponymous dog sled race. The course traverses frozen
river flats, moguls, larch forests and the "Dismal Swamp" (how foreboding).
You can choose from a number of energy sapping disciplines: mountain biking,
snow shoeing, running or skiing. My fellow competitors included many locals
- most of which fitted the description of "mature kids over 40". A time
limit of 48 hours to complete the 160km loop lured me into believing that
the objective was easily attainable - just pedal, walk, ingest tons of
food (which must be carried against your body to prevent it freezing)
and endure the extreme cold as the mercury plummets to -25ºC.
The rules
specify the minimum survival gear to be lugged around the course. This
posed no problem as I had expended considerable effort getting myself
set up prior to my departure - but it did all weigh in at 7Kg. Like most
other cyclists I had scored a pair of "snocat" rims which enabled me to
maintain traction on the snow covered trails with only 10-20psi in the
tyres. One of the more innovative local riders had constructed a four
wheeler bike that helped him "float" on the snow pack.
It was a
bracing -12ºC on the start line. Nerves were overpowered by anxiety
as I wondered whether both the bike and myself were up to the task ahead.
The inactivity made me cold but after only a few hours on the trail I
warmed to the occasion and found myself peeling off layers of clothing.
I smugly cruised past others who had stopped to conduct running repairs
on ill-prepared bikes.
I reached
the halfway mark in good form and high spirits. My only contact had
been
with a few other cyclists, some skidoos, a dog sled team and a moose.
Wolves came out later in the evening but posed no threat to a lean
Kiwi.
Nightfall brought with it colder temperatures and obvious visibility
challenges. This demanded a good feel for the conditions and made you
focus on those
competitors immediately around you. My target became Dan (coincidently
the Race Director). We were moving at a similar pace, and I figured
he
knew the course well. Unfortunately I misread his aim "to give the Kiwi
a hard time" and wasted over 15 minutes at a checkpoint not realising
he had done an artful dodger trick on me.
The darkness
plays tricks on your numbing body, and any glimmer of light in the
distance
was motivation to keep the cranks turning over. I was mindful of warnings
during the race briefing about the potential danger of falling asleep
during the section of frozen river flat. I managed to avoid sudden
slumber
and traversed the most dangerous crossings without incident. Things
went horribly wrong though some time around midnight. Along with seven
others
I found myself lost after encountering the "luge run" (a nasty ice chute
which I traversed uphill!). I somehow managed to maintain forward momentum
and only lost about 4 hours on this narrow "Iron Dog Trail", but tacked
an extra 50km on to my journey.
At about
3:30am, a rest stop was required to refuel the body and refocus the brain.
A couple of hours later I was back on the trail and as the sun broke through
in the early hours of the morning I crossed the finish line at Big Lake,
25 hours and 29 minutes after the start - finishing 28th out of 82 competitors
. Not bad for a kiwi rookie. It took its toll though. I lost muscular
control in my right hand for over a week, and the continual rubbing of
wet polypro against my body tore a vast area of skin off my backside -
nothing a decent antiseptic couldn't deal to. Boffins from the local University
monitored each competitor's food and fluid intake during the event. I
had consumed less than one third the recommended quantities ... and lost
12lbs in 24 hours. Beat that Jenny Craig!
It sounds
like masochism but I had a great time. It's a novel break from the
usual
diet of multi-sport races back home ... and I just know I can do better
next time. Yes, I'm hooked. So as you read this, think of me back in
the
freezing Alaskan wilderness - only this time having a go at the 540km
Iditasport Extremiste (last year's effort was merely the "qualifier").
|
