Posts - Page 60 of 287 - Christof Teuscher

I woke up to the sound of snowmachines. A group of three on the way from Nome to White Mountain stopped because their sleds were overheating. That happens typically when the trail is very hard. I noticed that the cabin wasn’t shaking anymore and they told me that the wind was manageable now. Great! I ate another meal and got ready for the remaining 43mi to Nome.

When I left the cabin past 9pm, there was almost no wind. That didn’t last. For the next 12mi or so, the trail follows the dune/driftwood line on the shore. There is zero protection from wind. About a mile in, it was so strong again that it made walking difficult. Pretty soon I was forced to put on more layers. That’s always a huge hassle in the wind. Anything you let go of will be gone forever. And if that is a shoe because you were not careful when you put on your down pants, well, you’d be trouble. The wind grew so strong that I considered going back to the cabin. I would have, had it grown even stronger. On the positive side, the northern lights were as magical as I had ever seen them. There was even a hint of red in the spectacle, which is quite rare.

I reached the Safety Roadhouse just before 8am. They board the place up as soon as the last musher passes, so no hot dog and beer were to be had. Seeing the 20mi road sign to Nome spread some encouragement. I figured I could probably make that. I started to smell the barn, yet, I also felt increasingly and strangely sad that this epic adventure would soon be over.

The remaining 20mi were pretty uneventful. Suddenly I was there, dragging my pulk through town to the finish line as the 2nd foot athlete to make it to Nome this year. It had taken me 24 days and 45 minutes to get there (~42mi/day).

Great food, beer, and company ensued. This journey would not have been possible without the help, hospitality, and incredible kindness of many amazing people. Thank you!

Will I be back? Hell no.

Amazing northern lights during my last night on the trail. Notice the hit of red, which is quite rare.

The Safety Roadhouse was all boarded up already. No hot dog and beer was to be had.

Only 20 miles to go!

That says it all.

About to cross the Nome river.

Dragging my pulk through Nome to the finish line.

The end…after 24 days and 45 minutes. Uff.

Great food and company!

Thanks for the beer Jason!

#iti2022 #iditarodtrailinvitational #ultrarunning #nome #alaska

My strategy for the remaining 77mi to Nome was to make things up on the go. I’ve heard several horror stories about the blizzards in the Topkok hills and the blowholes on the way to Safety, so I expected a lot of unpredictability. It’s easy to think you’re almost there, but the stretch from White Mountain to Safety is known to be one of the most dangerous sections of the entire race. If the wind blows and a storm hits, it can be simply impassable. Five days earlier, six mushers got into serious trouble right there and had to be rescued. See https://bit.ly/39a5ohl and https://bit.ly/3K5hUeX for some crazy stories. So…nothing is guaranteed if you’ve made it thus far, quite the opposite.

From White Mountain, the trail gradually climbs over barren hills, some very steep, and crosses the Klokerblok River several times. I was able to do some more great sledding on my pulk. After reaching a final saddle, I could suddenly see the coast and as far as Cape Nome. The trail dropped steeply do the beach (more sledding!), where the Topkok shelter cabin is located. I logged just short of 2,000ft of elevation gain on the 26mi from White Mountain to the cabin.

The wind was blowing so hard at the cabin that I had to tie my sled to its stairs. I remembered Beat’s advice: if it’s blowing hard at the cabin, it will be a lot worse further out. It was only 5:30pm, but I decided to get some rest, eat, sleep for a few hours, and see if the wind would die down at the end of the day, as it often does. The cabin was recently remodeled by the Nome Kennel Club. It felt like a Gucci shelter: there was wood for weeks, it had solar-powered lights, and you could even charge your devices on a solar-powered USB port. I made a raging fire in the stove, melted snow, ate, and rolled out my sleeping bag. The cabin was shaking wildly in the wind. How long will I have to wait here? Several days, like the guys who were stuck for 4 days in a storm and ran out of coffee?!