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Friday, 3 April 2020

Iditarod 2020 - race report - EP 2

You must force yourself to take mental snapshots of moments in time; as time marches forward so does the race, comfort is almost your enemy. The wool socks hanging on a nail above the wood stove; your jacket draped over the chair; the slow flicker of a damped flamefront in the stove and the rime of frost on the edges of the window pane. Commit them to memory, these are the fine pixel details in a picture you cannot replicate without the whole image of this cabin. You must move on and leave such luxuries of heat and comfort behind, move forward towards your goal.

Eyes snap open, it was 6:30am and almost robot-like, my CPU autoruns the subroutine of rehearsed, programmed thought.  The getafterit.exe file is run; gear.xls file is referenced, search.exe is looking for sock.jpg while food.obj is Blended and broken down to vertices (rhymes with...).

A window in the cabin overlooks Shell lake, I could see a lone light getting closer in the pre-dawn light. I got my gear on and bike packed, just as Casey rolled in looking tired with frost surrounding his headgear. He parked up in the cabin to warm himself, while I headed for the main lodge to get some water. I smashed a bit more food and I saw Casey leave the cabin, the trail from here goes up and over a series of low meadows and the trail had a nasty white comb over of fresh powder, everybody had been pushing.



I paused to take in the sunrise and smash a bit of breakfast, basically snacking on whatever was in my top tube bag - choc coated cranberries, gummi bears, dried fruit and making a good dent in the bigger items in my framebag - like that family block of Cadbury milk chocolate. Truth be told, food is a constant refinement each year for me, there is no magic bullet for it. I have my staples though and I pack a wide variety of foods to cater for changing tastes. Sorry I can't give you the fish on this one, ya'll gotta go and do the hard work and learn how to fish. I've done a heap of experimentation in this area and it's taught me some things about metabolism and fuelling that have got me through some tough spots - one of which was to come...

PRO TIP: Each racer should experiment with foods suitable for a sub zero environment. Remember, the foods you consume at room temps will be different in many ways at freezing temps, so have a think about how that affects your mouth - it will generally roughen it up and affect your sense of taste. Look after your teeth with regular brushing/mouthwash/chewy to help fight the effects of your sudden high sugar diet. Your tongue is also the victim of slight freeze burn, when breathing hard you are sucking in cold air over your tongue and this affects your sense of taste and sensation as well. Combine it with a scald or two from hot foods or liquids, it's not uncommon for the desire to eat to fade, along with your energy levels. Over time your mouth can ulcerate from sharp foods like chips, making eating difficult. Experiment and find what works for you, try and go in with a 'my GI tract can process almost anything' approach, as you may find food from the discarded pile at a checkpoint more desirable than your own. DON'T. EAT. TOO. MUCH. Ya'll do ya'self a major discomfort, your GI tract is trying its best to process around 350 cals per hour, so loading it up with 1000+ calorie meals might bung you up over time and the best way for the body to expel it - yup out both ends and may be mis-diagnosed as gastroenteritis. Your GI tract is fighting for blood to do it's job, as your working muscles will demand the majority be diverted to them, so digestion rate will slow. Oh, and CHEW YOUR NUTS. Rest room hygiene aint perfect out there, many foods may pass through partially digested. Nut fragments can cause irritation in the freckle and saddle areas and you WILL be playing a game of find the peanut, it may even contribute to localised rashes in the form of a slight allergic reaction. Have a think about the volume of peanuts in your overall race diet (it seems to be a major staple for many ultra foods), this may contribute to saddle sores - you may have a mild peanut allergy that is highlighted during the race.


You could see the tyre track of those who attempted to ride...and the occasional, spectacular failure resulting in big snow angels beside the trail. The depth of the snow this year led to some good swimming efforts - that's essentially what you end up having to do, to get out from under your bike.


The day remained clear, no more snow fell but the wind picked up by midday and the meadows were really blowing in on the trail to Winterlake Lodge - the 3rd checkpoint and our 1st food drop. It was a beautiful day, despite not being able to ride, I just kept pushing with a smile on my face, a song on my lips and a dance step in my boots. Adapt to the tune.

 
               Clip thanks to @ITIAlaska


Alaska always gives a bit of pushback before a checkpoint, to remind you just how insignificant you are, the geography of the area often leads to some wind on the exposed areas, and there is no shortage of exposed areas here. From memory, 2019 was the only year I've had with a clear run to the lodge with no wind. Temp was around -15C and wind about 20-30mph, I would consider it mild conditions but not something that I would want exposed skin for any long period of time.


Winterlake Lodge is the gateway to the Alaska range, from here the mountains stand as silent sentinels, they are at your sides for the next 80-90 miles or so until you reach Egypt and Farewell mountains beyond Rohn.


 I'd estimated my food load from the start perfectly and was ready to replenish from my drop. Of course, you have a dig through the scratched racers food tub, I found some salty chips to snack on later. Kinda sad though - written on the ziplock was a message 'To Dad, love Molly' obvs the food had been loving packed for 'Dad', but 'Dad' wasn't going to get here this year, so I said a quiet thank you to Molly, I would carry the torch for her Dad with those chips. It was around 4pm, Casey was napping in the ITI tent, I didn't need to sleep so pushed on into the ground windstorm for a slow dance over the creek gullys. The wind had demolished the trail and buried many sections under a foot or two of powder. Of note there were very few trail markers, due to the huge amount of snow the whole trail system had received, most markers were buried so I did a lot of trail mining with my feet postholing the snow, in the failing afternoon light. You are looking for the slightest bit of trail spoor, imperfections, patterns on sastrugi - anything to help you find the firmest, packed down part of the trail. It's kinda fun and just another challenge of the race. It took the better part of 45 mins to get across this postholing section and into the trees, but the trail up the gorge wasn't any better and huge drifts of snow blocked the trail to make a steep push even steeper.

The night rolled on, the wind remained and a distant light appeared behind me, it was Casey. I stopped for a snack (thanks Molly, the chips were delish) and more work on the family block, then we rode together over the many meadows and long frozen lakes, all the while surrounded by Alaska range behemoths wearing bright white cloaks, they seemed to be illuminated from within by the moonlight. After a while, the headlight behind me fell back, I waited a short while at the start of the CAT track until I felt the chill, I had to keep moving. Turned out Casey needed to bivvy, I rolled on down the CAT track, a 4-5 metre wide snow diversion road cut through the spruce pine forest to allow the transport of heavy machinery to a recently opened mine site nearby. Such is progress, shame really as this was some very pretty forest trail that had been bypassed. The trail felt so slow, it was 2am and strange things happen to tyre pressure and trail surfaces at night...

PRO TIP: Prepare yourself to change pressures often if you enjoy riding, because it can mean the difference to riding, or riding fast, or pushing. Put simple - air up for nights, air down for days, don't wrinkle the tyre too much for any longer than needed (the sidewall can start to delaminate between the plies and you'll see sealant weeping/wet spots on the sidewall - with tubes they may start to rub against the tyre carcass and wear thin...unless you've powdered them. Powder them using a 2"paintbrush, with talcum powder in an old drink bottle). It can be a very complex if-then-else logic matrix if you want to drill down into it, a lot of logic questions to run down the filters to arrive at a solution. Things like ground and air temperature, humidity, atmospheric pressure, ground temp soak (how long has the ground been at a particular temperature), sunlight/shadow, time of day (rising or falling temp), age of snow, aeration; as well as how fuggered you are and how quick you respond to that logical thought process. Given that fatbike tyre performance is based around air volume, not so much high pressure, any slight change in low pressure internally will result in differing performance in terms of how much the tyre will bag out. Less tyre air pressure = wider and longer tyre footprint (in general terms) giving more floatation on soft surfaces. Air temperature (easy to track in the field) and atmospheric pressure (harder to track in the field without regular calibration and reference points) will also directly affect tyre pressure and therefore the tyre footprint size. Time of day (afternoon can sometimes be soft and mushy, but then can depend on ambient temps or sunlight/shadow) and various temps (rising or falling temps) will affect the trail surface and impact/release friction, mash potato (warm-ish) to hard and squeeky under foot (cold and a growing grain ice crystal size) and then you have aeration (from snowmachine traffic or fresh powder fall and wind) and age of snow (old snow can granulate to sugar snow/corn snow by machine action and freeze/thaw cycles). Ask an XC ski racer about waxing for conditions, they'll share similar specific logic process. Your simple inner monologue question of 'should I air up or down' turns into the following algorithm to factor in all the variables, but again that's part of the fun of all this. Good luck, there is not enough urine in the human body to write that one out in the snow...


 I'd been watching the terrain, the Happy River steps were off to my right and I could see the mountain range where the gorge track ascended out of the Happy River valley, I was looking for a small trail off to the right that would take me back on to the main Iditarod trail just before the Steps. Found it, turned down it - the CAT track continued straight and many racers missed this vital time saving, right hand turnoff. Ya gotta maintain your spatial awareness! Yes I had a GPS (off), but it's way more fun to nav your way from other sources of intel around you, just like adventure racing.

So, yeah, back onto the trail and it was time to see a man about a dog and by crikey it was a cold visit. I have gone back to regular winter cycling bibshorts, so my top layers and hydration pack (all bar my next to skin base and the Macpac fleece) have to be removed so I can take off my bib shoulder straps. I'll put up with this inconvenience for the performance of bibshorts, if you have a system its not so bad. My next stop was a shiver bivvy at the top of the last happy river step, it was round 3am, so managed about 30 mins of rack time before Casey rolled on through and I joined him. Together we pushed up the wall, up the gorge and the trail through the rolling hills from there was mostly rideable all the way to Rainy Pass Lodge, our next checkpoint. The sunrise was simply incredible, the Alaska range glowed bright orange to greet us with the brand new day.


Got to the lodge around 11am, we both racked out for a few hours in the guide cabin, I got my water ready and had a few rounds of hot meals to catch up on calories. Every year in the race about this time, I'm kinda done with eating big solid meals, I tend to go off my food a bit. But I knew what's ahead of me on the trail and I forced some solid calories in, Rainy Pass can throw a dance smackdown challenge like no other. Casey moved to make an arvo departure and when the weather is clear like it was with wind hanging about, taking on the Pass in the afternoon isn't the best move. I wasn't here to f#&ck spiders and with both of us having a fair bit of Rainy Pass experience under out belts, we bounded out the door around 2pm, I didn't want to lose ground at the pointy end. We had warm sun, no wind for the first 20 minutes (that's not counting the bean soup in a can I had at the guide cabin). That's when DJ Pass-Out started his set, we were stepping into a trance rave that was to go all night...



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