Posts - Page 64 of 286 - Christof Teuscher

After the never-ending hills and difficult trail conditions, I was very much looking forward to the next section: the Yukon river. I was greeted by terrible winds. Thankfully not directly into my face. I wasn’t going to be able to hammer out the 52mi to Galena in one shot because I didn’t get enough rest in Ruby. My plan was to bivy and get sleep as soon as I could find a good spot. That turned out to be rather impossible on the exposed Yukon. You can’t just walk to the shore and find shelter in the trees. As soon as you take a step off the trail, you’ll generally find yourself in deep and soft snow that makes moving quite impossible. And even if you’d make it to the shore, it would probably be impossible to climb the often massive river banks.

It is hard to describe the Yukon with words and to capture its scale with pictures. It’s massive and endless. And that’s a total understatement. It can be brutally cold on it and it’s almost always brutally windy. I spent the next 3 days getting to know it better. As you can imagine, I was looking forward to getting off the river as much as I was to getting on it initially. Such is life.

I desperately tried to find a bivy spot that was somewhat protected from the terrible wind. Just as I was about to give up hope, I found a decently sheltered spot behind a big island in the middle of the river. I was in my cozy -40F sleeping bag just in time to watch the sunset. The next thing I remember is waking up at 1am with my sunglasses still on. I watched several mushers silently float by under the northern lights. Pure magic. More sleep ensued. I ended up sleeping for a total of 7h. Apparently, I was tired. When I got up my thermometer indicated -31F (-35C). You don’t dally when it’s that cold. Every second counts. The sooner you can move and generate heat, the better.

I felt well-rested and was in good spirits. Onward!

Staying warm and avoiding frostbite on your face is a constant struggle in these conditions. And when you are wrapped up like that, drinking and eating enough poses an additional challenge.

Only 52 miles to Galena…

t was a little windy for the next 3 days.

It often feels like you are on a big lake. Going around a bend on the Yukon can literally take you hours.

A typical view of the Yukon. It’s easy to feel small here.

My bivy spot on the Yukon. When I got up after 7h of sleep, my thermometer indicated -31F (-35C).

#iti2022 #iditarodtrailinvitational #ultrarunning #nome #alaska

Today I would hopefully make it to the Ruby halfway checkpoint at mile 500ish. When you sleep outside and can’t dry anything, your gear gets gradually icier. I sleep in a vapor barrier liner (basically an expensive plastic bag) inside my sleeping bag to prevent body moisture from getting into the sleeping bag. In a few days, it would otherwise become a useless frozen chunk. Shoes and everything else you don’t want frozen must be kept warm in your sleeping bag.

Trail conditions varied between barely acceptable to terrible. The wind persisted. Yet, the worst part were the never-ending gradual climbs over hills that seemed small, but then turned out to be monsters. The longest gradual climb I remember was 15mi long, with many false summits on the way. If you think the trail is flat once you crossed the Alaska range, think again. On the stretch from McGrath to Ruby I logged 190mi with 9,759ft (2’975m) of cumulative elevation gain. That’s 6.5x the climb over Rainy Pass from Puntilla Lake. Let’s just say that it was no cakewalk with a heavy sled in soft snow.

As darkness fell, the northern lights made a showing again. To fight sleep deprivation, I sang for several hours in English, French, German, and Swiss German. That made things more interesting and challenged my fried brain. Thankfully nobody heard me. At 2am I reached what my GPS said was the checkpoint, a B&B. It was clearly not. After 1h of searching and several useless directions from locals who were still up (doing what?!), I finally found the right place. I knocked and yelled, but nobody opened the door. I’m not used to enter stranger’s houses at 3am, but eventually I did, found a bed, and passed out.

In the morning, I was served a salad and piles of meat (my late dinner), and a little later a fabulous breakfast too. I ate it all. French skier Mathieu emerged and I learned that he would not continue to Nome. Aw! I was hoping for more rest, but the B&B was buzzing. I loaded my sled with new supplies that I had mailed to the checkpoint and readied myself for the next section.