Iditarod Musher Eric Rogers - R North Bound Dogs

IDITAROD 37
March 7th, 2009

::: Part of the Team, Part of the History, Part of the Greatness ::::

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KOYUK TO WHITE MOUNTAIN

A Rookie’s Journey – Koyuk to White Mountain
July 23, 2006

Trail leaving Elim. Notice how smooth and
wide the trail is and the large trees.

Dukat had suspicious lung sounds when the vets checked him as we arrived in Koyuk and I wasted no time dropping him so the vet could take him in where it was warm and start and IV. I promised him that I would bring his dinner in so he could eat. Dukat is a shy dog and when I came in he was standing up looking around. The IV was in place but was not working as well with him standing (it’s a gravity driven system and is set up for a dog laying down). After Dukat ate I lay down beside him and shortly he lay down with me. That made the IV work much better. I stayed there calming Dukat and sleeping until the floor proved too much for both of us. We moved Dukat to the Dodge Lodge (a vinyl Quonset hut like shelter for dropped dogs provided by Dodge years ago) and I moved to the mushers sleeping area.

I spent almost 21 hours in Koyuk trying to put weight on the dogs and make up for the short rest we had in Shaktoolik. I put four good meals down the dogs in that period and the vets were happy with the way the dogs looked when I left. Staying that long put me behind the group I had been traveling with, and after Ben Valks was withdrawn, only Katrina Pawlaczyk was still behind me. She was catching up fast.

I wasn’t doing nearly as well as the dogs. My appetite was gone and my stomach was distressed. I forced myself to eat a breakfast burrito before I left. Normally I really like those, but this one tasted terrible. I had some pizza in the drop bag, but even that didn’t appeal. I’m popping Imodium like popcorn, but still hanging in there.

Trail climbing Little McKinley. It was a beautiful day,
but the wind was howling from our right read quater.
Notice how some of the dogs coats are blown
up over their backs.

I have no memory of the trip from Koyuk to Elim, except as we came the last few miles into town. Bonnie Foster tells me that it was cold, white, and windy and that is probably all I need to know ;-). The last couple of miles we were running down a hill parallel to a plowed road. I remember the town being well lit. It almost looked like a military installation. The trail turned right onto a road at the bottom of the hill and ran through town. The trail had been well marked to that point. I couldn’t find any markers after the turn and almost went back to the last marker I saw before I got to the checkpoint. Jasper Bond, my friend from Rohn, runs the Elim checkpoint and takes good care of his guests. There was a plastic trash can full of water for the dogs and a microwave for the mushers. For breakfast the next morning Jasper fixed hotcakes and ham – a real treat!

Normally the trail leaving Elim goes along the coast before climbing Little McKinley. This year, due to poor ice conditions, we followed the old mail route through the hills behind town. We were warned about several miles of rough trail, but this was some of the prettiest country in the entire race. The trail was as wide as a single lane road and wound through large trees as it climbed and dropped over the hills.

Trail near the top of Little McKinley. The Bering Sea
is in the background. It is starkly beautiful country.

After a while we seemed to be climbing more seriously. This had to be Little McKinley. It isn’t that the climb is fierce as it is that the climb is late in the race and everyone is tired. The top of Little McKinley is very exposed and the wind was blowing. Karen Ramstead and Lachlan Clarke took almost 24 hours to make this run getting caught in extreme winds on the summit and missing the trail off the mountain. At the time I knew they were late getting to White Mountain, but didn’t know why. However I had heard horror stories about storms on the summit from previous races.

Trial down off Little McKinley. Notice the wind
erroded sculptures on the trail and how off to
the side much of the ground is blown clean.

We were down to 8 dogs at this point and even with my better feeding routine they were tired. The wind was blowing about 30 mph from our right rear. It wasn’t particularly cold, but cold enough that I had coats on the dogs and I was wearing my parka. The wind kept blowing the back of the dog’s coats up off their backs and I would stop and try to keep them down, but it didn’t help much. This is a real concern because a wind quartering from the rear will separate the hairs of the dog’s coat and blow snow up against the skin leading to hypothermia. Luckily the wind had been blowing long enough and hard enough there was little loose snow left to move.
This was absolutely beautiful country and I was torn between being tired and worried about the dogs and being awestruck by the beauty around me. Even the constant wind couldn’t destroy my appreciation of the scenery.

As we hit the crest of Little McKinley we lost the trail. The markers had been unintentionally knocked down by previous mushers and all signs of the trail itself had been blown away. Bass started down to the right and I immediately stopped him. Joe Runyan in his book “Winning Strategies for Long Distance Mushers” talks about Lavon Barve missing the trail in the 1996 race, coming down off Little McKinley incorrectly and winding up charging down a steep hill through deep loose snow only to find himself wrapped around the willows at the bottom. He left looking for a way back to the trail by going around the mountain rather than back up it. After he found the trail he could not find his team on the return. I was sure that was where Bass was heading and wanted no part of it. After a couple of minutes I saw one remaining stake off to the left about 45 degrees from the trail we had come in on (about 90 degrees from where Bass was facing). It took a little bit to convince Bass to go left across the tundra where there was no trail, but we made it and averted a disaster. The hill was steep enough and the dogs tired enough I’m not sure what it would have taken for them to climb back up to the trail had we gone down the wrong side. I definitely owe Joe a beer when I see him next.
The trail down Little McKinley was wind carved parallel to the trail itself. Sometimes one runner would be up almost a foot higher than the other. Then the snow ridge would die and the low runner would become the high runner. You could see where most of the teams had gone beside the trail in the bare ground, but Bass knew the trail was where the snow was and I didn’t try to dissuade him.

I was wearing mid-weight gloves that were warm, but had no wind resistance. So far they had worked fine, but as we started down the angle of the wind changed and it whipped right through my gloves. Normally I would stop and put windproof gloves or my beaver mitts on, but I couldn’t stop on this wild downhill run. My hands got so cold I was starting to worry about frostbite when the trail leveled out just enough to regain control and change gloves. Whew!

After a long run we got to Golovin and I thought there was a security checkpoint there. There had been in previous years because the trail runs right through the village. We came in through someone’s back yard, swung left around a boat and onto the main street in the village. It was just like Elim, there were no markers. I ran to the end of the village (maybe half a mile) and still saw no markers. I saw a young man walk into his house, so I parked my dog team in his front yard, walked up and knocked on his door. I have no idea what he thought of a lost white man with a dog team in his front yard, but he was very polite. He gave me blank look when I asked about the checkpoint. When I asked about the trail to White Mountain he pointed me back the way I had come and said to turn left after the school. It turned out that I should have gone across the main street, rather than turn down it. Note to self – remember this for next year. ?

After a long, windy run across Golovin Bay we arrived in White Mountain and I found out the reason I couldn’t find the Golovin checkpoint was they didn’t have one this year! I parked the dogs, fed them a hot meal and walked into the city office building where the checkpoint was. Most of the people were gathered around the radio listening to KNOM telecast the banquet in Nome. I had hoped to be there, but White Mountain was only 77 miles away.

Keep ‘em Northbound
Eric
© 2006 All rights reserved

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Have you ever wanted to be part of the Iditarod adventure but didn't
know how? Help support Eric Rogers Iditarod team by joining the
2006-2007 season Rogers Rangers. Just $30 buys you a bootie worn by the
team, a 2005-2006 Rookie season musher card, and a signed certificate of
membership. All funds go to support Eric's 2007 Iditarod. For your
convenience we now take credit cards through PayPal. All donations
gratefully accepted.

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