Sometimes Things Just Line Up

post by Corrine

The weather forecast looked grim: Southeast winds 30-40 mph with gusts up to 50-65 mph expected from 4 PM Saturday to Sunday afternoon.

That was exactly during the time I was planning on being out on a bikepack adventure at Eklutna Lake just north of Anchorage. An Anchorage friend, Janice, had already been on the fence about joining me. She saw the forecast and texted me on Friday that she was going to stay home. 

Then Saturday morning, Carlene, another friend who had planned to join me, texted that she wasn’t sure she could make the trip either. A friend’s car had just died, and she had to go rescue her. Carlene said she might try and make it but wasn’t sure. And she said the winds in Palmer, where she lives a little north of Eklutna Lake, were already howling. 

I wasn’t sure what to do. Should I cancel? Should I wait and see what conditions were like when I got to the trailhead? Another friend who lives in that area said it is often a bit more protected around Eklutna Lake. And our route was mostly in the trees, not up high on ridges. But did I want to chance riding in gale force winds? All by myself? 

I am one of those people who will make a decision but then doubt myself or change my mind after getting more information. Sometimes I go back and forth multiple times. It drives me crazy! I had already been doubting whether I wanted to do the Eklutna trip since Janice texted me the day before. I had finally convinced myself to just go when Carlene let me know she might not be able to make it. Now what should I do? I had to head out to that area anyway, so I decided to pack as if I was doing the overnighter and then make a last-minute decision. Why do I vacillate so much?

Anchorage Bound

The main impetus for my trip to Anchorage was my yearly rheumatology appointment. I have ankylosing spondylitis, an uncommon type of inflammatory arthritis that affects the spine and other joints. It’s mostly under control, but I need to check in with my rheumatologist once a year. 

I decided to set up some visits while I was in the area. While talking to Anchorage friends about getting together, I learned that the weekend after my appointment would be the culmination of GRIT (Girls Ride Into Tomorrow). This program empowers middle school girls by getting them out on bikes and teaching them biking and bikepacking skills. That weekend would be their final achievement, a 3-day, 2-night bikepack adventure. The girls that finish the program get to keep their bikes and gear.  One of the leaders, also a friend, asked if I wanted to help and I agreed. My job would be to bring out supplies including hot pizza to their final destination near Eklutna Lake.

A Full Trip

Now I had my appointment, some visiting, and a fun volunteer job during my trip to Anchorage, but could I make it even more fun? Earlier, I had committed to doing the Bikepack Every Month Challenge. In April, I did an overnight to Chena Hot Springs Resort. But I was having a hard time coming up with a fun May trip in Fairbanks. It would have to be another paved road trip which I was not excited about. But I knew there is a trail along Eklutna Lake that leads to some backcountry camp sites. Eric and I had biked it a few years ago as an out-and-back. Maybe I could do an overnight bikepack after I finished with my GRIT volunteer duties. I reached out to friend Carlene, who lives in the area to see if she knew about trail conditions. She was able to find out that the trail along Eklutna Lake was good to go with just one little section of snow, and she said she would love to join me. Great! Since I was meeting biking friend Janice while in Anchorage, I invited her, too. Plans were working out for volunteering and having an adventure!

Carlene and me at the Eklutna Lake Trailhead

But there’s more! I had also recently joined a group in Fairbanks that is working with the American League of Bicyclists to do a project around biking. We had just decided that our project would be to promote Bike Month (May) with an emphasis on National Bike to Work Day - a program started by the American League of Bicyclist to promote cycling as a healthy, environmentally friendly alternative to driving. Anchorage has an amazing Bike to Work Day program and it just so happened that it would occur while I was there. So, I could experience their program and meet with their director while there. 

Eric’s older sister, also named Janice, lives in Anchorage and would be around so I could stay with her and get a chance to catch up. It was looking to be a busy but fun few days in Anchorage. Everything was coming together nicely.

Biking in Anchorage

Anchorage has an amazing bike infrastructure with dedicated multi-use paths and bike lanes. And they have a fun 31-mile loop, almost all on bike paths, that makes the shape of a moose head called, appropriately, the Moose Loop. So, after biking to my doctor appointment on Thursday, I headed out to do the loop. This route is well worth doing if you are visiting Anchorage. Much of it is on beautiful bike paths that run along creeks, lakes, and the coast. 

The Moose Loop

The next day was Bike to Work Day. The program was started in Anchorage more than 20 years ago and keeps growing. Local businesses and advocacy groups support the commuters with treat stations from 7-9 AM and 4-6 PM. In 2014 they had 14 treat stations and about 1000 bikers. This year they had 130 stations and expected over 5000 participants. I wanted to check out several of the stations, especially the one that was serving bacon! I found out later that some stations give out hats and T-shirts, although those prizes were gone in about 15 minutes. Most stations had snacks, stickers, bike maps and drinks. Some even had live music! I also found out that you could get a free drink from any Kaladi Brothers Coffee stand if you had a bike helmet. Many people plot their routes specifically to get the best swag! It was fun to see so many people out on bikes on a brisk Friday morning. And it gave me a lot of ideas for what we could do in Fairbanks. 

So many cyclists out and about

Of course I had to get my picture with Seymour the Moose!

I found the bacon station at the top of Spenard hill!

Live music and fresh bakery treats!

To Bikepack or Not

Saturday morning dawned sunny and calm. But the forecast for windy conditions just kept getting worse. That’s when I heard from Carlene that she was possibly bailing, too. I had to meet the GRIT riders anyway, so I packed up all my gear, picked up the pizza and headed out to Eklutna Lake. The wind was picking up but wasn’t bad on my drive. I passed the riders on the road to the lake and cheered them on with promises of pizza when they finished. After arriving at the destination, an ice cream shop, I biked back to continue encouraging them. Some of the girls complained a little and some walked up the steeper hills, but they all made it to the ice cream stand and were revived with pizza and ice cream. 

Pizza and ice cream save the day! 18 girls completed the course.

As I chatted with everyone, I saw that Carlene had showed up after all. It was a little more windy but not terrible, so we decided to just go for it. We also knew that a friend had rented the Serenity Falls Cabin a couple of miles past the end of the lake. We figured we could always use her as our back up plan if the weather got worse that evening. Another thing lining up in our favor.

The last time I had biked the Eklutna Lake Trail, it had been one huge puddle after another. Carlene concurred that this was how it always was for her, too. So, we were delighted to find the trail dry with only one large puddle. And just one small section that still had snow on it. And the single track sections that had been eroded in the past had all been fixed. It was great riding the whole way. 

The forecasted winds did come. It was quite windy when we were by the lakeshore, but in the woods it was fine. And it was downright gale force on the bridges where the wind could rush through unimpeded, but those areas were few and far apart. We could hear the wind howling higher up in the mountains, but it was fine on the trail. We made great time stopping for photo opportunities along the way. Everything was working out perfectly and we were glad we had decided to go.

You can't tell from this photo but I was almost getting blown off this bridge!

The clouds got lower the further up the valley we went and by the time we made it to the cabin it was spitting rain. We had a nice surprise visit with Raena and her friend - they did not know we were coming – but then it was time to turn back and find a place to sleep before it started raining and blowing harder. We headed back down the valley and by the time we found a sheltered campsite, it was 9 PM, we had biked 15 miles, and we were ready for bed.

Surprise visit with Raena and Heather

Campsite sheltered in the trees

Home After a Full Trip

The next morning, it was still spitting rain on and off, but the wind had died down. We decided to skip breakfast and just pack up and go. The ride back was a quick, mostly downhill nine miles and we were at the trailhead by 8 AM. That bikepack trip was short, but well worth it. I completed my Bikepack Every Month Challenge for May. And so did Carlene. (She is doing the challenge, too.) I hadn’t spent much time with Carlene, so it was fun to do an overnight with her. We schemed some possibilities for another bikepack trip together later in the summer.

As I drove the six hours back to Fairbanks, I mused how my trip to see my rheumatologist had morphed into a fun few days of seeing friends and family, doing some volunteering, and going on a little adventure. Sometimes, everything does just line up perfectly. 

Setting New Goals

Post by Corrine

Nine weeks ago, in one moment, all my plans and goals for spring and summer were smashed. Just like my hip. 

No four-day trip in the White Mountains National Recreation Area. No 120-mile fatbike race from Manley to Fairbanks. No 100-mile gran fondo ride in the Eastern Sierras of California. And no bikepack challenge race in the Westfjords of Iceland. All these plans were suddenly out of reach after what seemed like a simple fall during the American Birkebeiner ski race in late February. 

The one thing I had left to look forward to was a June trip across the Denali Highway with three women bikepack friends, where I will be the designated sag wagon driver. I'll be able to bike as much as my body can handle, so any limits will be self-imposed. I’m really looking forward to that trip, but it’s not enough. I need other goals to work and plan toward.

The Need for Goals

After years of always having some big physical goal ahead of me, it’s unsettling not to have any concrete plans to prepare for. Goals give my life structure and keep me motivated. (I could go on at length about my need for other types of goals since retiring last year, but for this blog post I’ll stick to physical goals.)

So, what could I do this summer for physical goals? At first, I was wondering if I could even start planning new goals. Having a hip replacement is a big deal. But a couple of weeks ago, when I could see that my rehab was going well, I decided I was ready.

About that time, I saw on social media that Kurt Refsnider, a bikepack racer, was starting a bikepack challenge. The goal is to do at least one overnight trip every month for the next year, starting in April. Prizes will be given out monthly with special prizes at the end for those who complete the entire challenge. 

I also saw that Ryan Van Duzer, another outdoor adventurer and bikepacker, was going to ride the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route (GDMBR) this summer for Adventure Cycling Associations’ 50th anniversary. He is inviting people to join up with him along the way. I raced the Tour Divide in 2018, which basically follows the GDMBR, but I had never done the portion from Jasper to Banff. I’ve met Ryan a few times and it would be fun to spend time with him. Maybe I should do that. 

And my friend, Nikki, has been wanting to plan a bikepack adventure in the northwest United States in the fall. I could start planning that. And Eric and I haven’t talked yet about any combined summer outdoor adventure goals, so we should be able to come up with some more. 

It didn’t take long for me to come up with several things to plan for. I’m retired now, so I can think big and small, short-term and long-term. While I’m still youngish (it’s all relative) and still have the ability, I figure that I should do the hard things. (I’m already thinking about biking from Fairbanks to Seattle next year. Our son Riley has expressed interest in that. Maybe he could join me for at least part of the trip.) 

First of 12 Bikepack Adventures

For this year, the Kurt Refsnider 12-month bikepack challenge was kind of a no-brainer. It costs nothing to sign up, so I did. But I knew it was already mid-April and break-up in Alaska was starting. What to do that would fit the bill?

A winter bikepack trip was out of the question. And the gravel roads and trails were still covered in snow and ice. Planning a trip outside of Alaska with just a week left in the month was not really feasible. So, if I was going to do this challenge, it would have to be a trip on pavement for April. Camping wasn’t a great option with all the wet soggy snow and ground, but staying indoors is okay per Kurt’s rules. Still, starting from Fairbanks my options were limited, but then I realized I could bike from home to Chena Hot Springs Resort for an overnight. Plus, I could soak in the hot springs after the long ride! 

But could I make it all the way there – and back – without bonking? My longest bike ride since my hip replacement had been just 25 miles. This ride would be 67 miles -- each way. Well, it’s supposed to be a “challenge,” and it’s all on pavement. And  half of the ride is mostly flat. And in a pinch, I could call Eric to come get me so. . . I booked a room.

I talked friends Cathy and Barb into starting the ride with me on Sunday morning. It was great to have the company and catch up on their lives for the first 10 miles. Then I turned left towards Chena Hot Springs while they kept on with their ride. 

The rest of the 67.5-mile ride to the hot springs was uneventful. It was a beautiful day with temperatures in the low 50s, and the traffic was light after Two Rivers. I stopped at the two stores along Chena Hot Springs Road to refuel and take breaks. I did have a slight headwind all day, which was annoying, and the last 30 miles was a steady 1 percent uphill grade, but I made it to the hot springs with no problems. 

I hardly ever visit Chena Hot Springs, and I’ve never spent the night. The rooms are adequate although there was some problem with the heat. (The place is heated by the thermal hot springs and there was some problem about bleeding the lines.) My room never got above 58 degrees. So, it was kind of like camping? Sort of?! Fortunately, it’s shoulder season so the resort was not too busy. The dinner was great and I ran into friends Dan and Peggy who had the same idea to spend the night. They drove but had seen me biking on their way there. Dan has had his hips replaced so we compared stories.

Chilly but adequate room at the hot springs

After dinner it was time to relax in the outdoor rock pool – my favorite part of Chena Hot Springs. It was quiet and the water felt great on my tired body and after about an hour, I was ready for bed. 

Returning Home

It was below freezing outside when I got up the next morning, so I decided to soak one more time to give the temperature a chance to warm up before I headed home. Retirement – and all the time flexibility – sure is nice! I started biking around 11 AM, but this time I had a little tailwind and a slight downhill for the first 30 miles. It was another sunny day and once again the temperature rose to the lower 50s. My legs felt better than expected, especially after I drank a caffeinated coke I brought along with me. 

At around mile 40, I saw a biker headed toward me. It was Barb! She decided to come bike with me a bit (even though it was supposed to be her rest day). Boy, I was happy to see her! I had just gotten to the hilly section, and I was starting to flag. I was ready to be home. With her beside me, the next 10 miles went by quickly and the hills seemed less steep as we chatted. Before we knew it, it was time for her to head back home and I only had about 10 more miles left to bike. 

I was so happy to see Barb!

A little while later I was back to the final two-mile gravel uphill on our road. It was a grind – as it usually is – but I made it. Eric cheered my success as I wheeled my bike into the garage. 

My April goal for “Bikepack Every Month” was done! One month down, 11 more to go. Now to start deciding on other outdoor goals for the year. The bikepack trip in the northwest U.S.  in September is a definite. The Jasper to Banff is a maybe. What other things could I do? I will be pondering. Have you got any suggestions? Leave them in the comments. 

Ride to Tolovana Roadhouse: A Misadventure in Reality Warping

Post by Eric

I stood up on my pedals and yelled. 

“Oh, my aching arse!” 

Fortunately, I knew right up the trail was the next section of windblown snowdrifts, where I would have to get off my bike and walk. I could give my numbing hands, aching back, and sore arse a break. But my energy was fading. I was slowing. I needed to get back to Manley Hot Springs Resort by 10pm. I had a cabin rented, but I didn’t have the door key code. What if I couldn’t get into the cabin? I dreaded the thought of a four-hour drive back to Fairbanks after my longer-than-expected day on the bike. 

I rode my bike when I could, but that was sapping my waning energy. I kept stopping to rest. The closer I got to Manley, the more stops I took. I quit looking at the time. It was going to be close. I didn’t need to know how close. I didn’t have any winter camping gear with me. Either I had to get that door key code, or I had to drive to Fairbanks. I kept pedaling. 

How had I gotten myself in this situation? Unfortunately, I knew how. 

New trail to me!

Good Idea – Poor Planning

I decided to ride to the Tolovana Roadhouse after I dropped out of the T-Dog 120. I hadn’t trained enough. I originally hadn’t planned to enter, but Corrine entered and talked me into doing it. 

“A bunch of our friends are doing it,” she said. “It’ll be fun to see some new trails,” she said. 

She knows my weaknesses. I signed up. Then this winter happened with all the cold and snow. And life happened (including Corrine’s skiing accident). I didn’t get in the proper training. Not by a long shot. 

But a trip out of town and seeing new trails seemed fun. I decided to drive up to Manley, giving a ride to friends who were doing the T-Dog. I could do an out-and-back on the trail, riding with friends for part of the way. The Tolovana Roadhouse seemed a good destination, but it is 31 miles into the T-Dog course. Even I realized that 62 miles was a long way to go based on my training. We kept hearing that the course was mostly flat, but that’s still a lot of miles. I figured I would ride until I started to get tired, then head back to Manley in time for dinner, a delicious soak in the hot springs, and a little relaxing before bed. 

And then I went and won the short course of the Tanana River Challenge. 

Me at the TRC celebrating with Elaine Ramos, second place woman finisher

That race was almost 27 miles, and I felt good at the end. I felt more confident. I started to unconsciously warp reality: 27 miles is almost 31 miles, and a flat course is easy, and if I felt good after 27 miles then I could have gone farther, and…and…and…. 

I’ve done that before. I don’t have a plan. I have a gestalt of a plan. Bad idea. 

At some point I started telling people I would ride to the Tolovana Roadhouse and back. Worse, I started believing it myself.

Enjoying a frosty start on the T-Dog course

A Chaotic Start

I drove to Manley on Friday with Nikki and Travis, who were biking the T-Dog 120 (which was actually about 135 miles). I also brought skis for Hannah, who was entered in the ski division. She had reserved a cabin at Manley Hot Springs Resort that could sleep four and had flown up that morning. (Travis got the cabin spot that opened when Corrine dropped out after breaking her hip.) We arrived with time to enjoy a soak, go to the pre-race meeting, and get some dinner. We had a grand time laughing and joking but got to bed early. 

Me, Hannah, Nikki, and Travis enjoying a soak in the hot springs. 

We woke with plenty of time to get prepared and be at the 8:15am race start, just down the road. Too much time, apparently. When 7:45am came, we weren’t ready. Yeah, I was the main culprit. It’s that gestalt thing. We had so much time, I didn’t need to be anal, so I kind of guesstimated things. Bad idea. 

We got to the race start in time, barely. But then I realized I had left my bike helmet back at the cabin. What a ditz! I told the others to leave without me, then drove back and got my helmet. I got back to the start at 8:15am, but Nikki and Travis were still in the parking lot. Travis was still futzing with his bike. Nikki was waiting for him. The non-mushing T-Dog racers were trickling out one at a time. Hannah left and so did Ben, another friend from Fairbanks. Then Nikki took off. Then the race officials came over to talk to Travis and me, the last two non-mushing people. 

Explanation break: Here’s how the T-Dog starts: The 200-mile mushers can start leaving at 8am. Then the non-mushing folks leave at 8:15, then the rest of the 200-mile mushers leave until 10am. The 120-mile mushers don’t leave until starting at noon.  The first leg of the mushing races doesn’t count against their race time, so the mushers are relaxed with leaving. 

The race officials asked Travis and me if they should let the next 200 musher go or wait for us. Travis was still futzing with his bike. (At least I’m not the only ditz. Thank you, Travis!) Travis told the officials to let the musher go. After that musher took off, we left with Travis leading.

Me (left) and Travis leaving the start

Wonderful Ride to the Roadhouse

The first mile of the trail, a connector to the main trail, was soft. Rideable but really challenging. And we had been warned to take care, because the snow off the trail was super deep. Shortly after leaving the start area, the trail crosses the road. Race organizer Tekla Munson was there, taking videos. Just after crossing the road, my front tire slipped out, and I fell hip-deep into the snow. Luckily, my bike kept me from sinking deeper. We had a good laugh about that. I floundered back onto the trail, got on my bike, and chased after Travis. 

Video screen grab of me falling at the start. By Tekla Munson

When I got to the firmer main trail, Travis was there, peeling off a layer. The temp at race start was about -15F, but we were working hard in the soft snow. I peeled a layer, too, but I also needed to adjust my seat. I told Travis to take off. That was smart. Travis was much better trained and is younger than I am. And now he wanted to catch Nikki, as they had planned to ride together. I let him bike away. 

I settled into a pace and enjoyed the ride. The trail was firm and the riding was easy. The country was all new to me. Occasionally, I heard a yell behind, and I would pull over for one of the 200-mile mushing teams. It was fun to see them go by. 

Soon after, I caught the only two skiers, first Hannah and then Riley, and stopped to chat briefly with each as I passed by.

Hannah skiing into the rising sun

Riley, early in the race

After about 12 miles, the trail started entering open areas with some day-old drifting. The riding was challenging and fun. I stepped off my bike a lot and fell into the snow a couple of times. I laughed a lot. Some places I had to walk my bike. 

Selfie in the snow!

The 200-mile teams continued to catch and pass me. The dogs and mushers all seemed to be having a good time. Everyone was friendly. And by that time the sun was well up in the sky and warming the day. It was great to be out. 

A couple of 200-mile teams passing me early on

Eventually, the trail left the open areas with its drifting, but the trail was still soft. And while it wasn’t steep, it did climb a little. Pedaling was hard work. I started to tire. But the Tolovana Roadhouse was less than 10 miles away. My original idea of probably turning around before the roadhouse was long gone. I was committed.

The trail had often been straight, so I looked forward to a narrow, winding section of trail a couple of miles before the roadhouse. It was fun on a bike. At the end came signs warning that the roadhouse was only about 2 miles away! “Free Parking,” said one. “Valet $5,” said another. “Just kidding,” said the last. 

Tolovana Roadhouse

I pulled up to the roadhouse, elated that I had made it. It’s a fun, historic building that sits at the confluence of the Tanana and Tolovana rivers. (A little too close to the rivers, unfortunately. You can donate here to help save it.) Some friendly volunteers greeted me. I headed inside for a good rest and to get some food and water. I was looking forward to some chili, and a delicious baked potato made by Mary, owner of the roadhouse. 

Made it to the roadhouse!

Inside I saw Ben. He had arrived just a few minutes before me and said Nikki and Travis had left just 5-10 minutes earlier. It would have been fun to see them, but I was glad to visit with Ben.

While at the roadhouse I met Mary and several of the 200-mile mushers. Some had been there a few hours already and weren’t in a hurry to leave since they couldn’t check into Minto until 8pm. We all chatted about the trail and adventures we’ve had while mushing or biking. Mary told us about her plans to increase the amount of time the roadhouse is open. (It’s available for rent here.) 

I ate while we talked. I didn’t look at my clock. I wasn’t racing. I was on gestalt time. But eventually I got ready to go, filling my water and grabbing a few snacks.  (Later I calculated I had stayed a little more than an hour. Should have left earlier!) I wished Ben and the others well and left. A thermometer at the roadhouse said it was 20F above. It’s so nice when the sun starts warming things up! I had to peel layers. 

Ben getting ready to leave the roadhouse

Paying the Price on the Ride Back

Not long after leaving the roadhouse, I ran into the skiers again, Riley and then Hannah. They were in good spirits. I talked to each just briefly as they still had a lot of trail ahead of them. After snapping a couple of pics of Hannah, I glanced at my phone’s time. It was just after 3pm. I put it back into my vest, started biking, started thinking, then stopped and pulled my phone out again. My clock is on military time. Had it said 3pm or 13pm? Definitely 3pm. I started to do the math. (Finally!)

Hannah nearly at the roadhouse

OK, a little confession here. Sometimes I suck at planning. If I’m totally on my own, I think things through well, but if I’m just tagging along with someone else, I get lackadaisical. For the first part of this outing, I had been planning to tag along with Travis and Nikki. That didn’t happen, but I guess my mind was in that mode. Now I was on my own and I had a reality check. There would be no long, relaxing evening at the Manley Hot Springs. I would need to keep up a steady pace just to get back before the hot springs restaurant closed at 10pm. And I needed that cabin key code. (I had a different cabin rented for the second night so a different code.) Jesse at the resort had said she would email it to me. I had the resort wi-fi password from the first night’s stay, but what if she forgot? Still, I wasn’t worried. I didn’t do the math exactly, but I figured I could make it. 

On the return trip, I passed the 120-mile mushing teams, which had started leaving at noon. Trail passes were easy because I could usually see them well ahead of time. That was fun. And the soft trail didn’t seem so bad. Now I was going slightly downhill and had a little tailwind. I smiled as I rode. 

Seeing all the teams go by was fun!

My smile faded a bit when I got to the open sections. The wind had picked up and was now a crosswind. It wasn’t cold, but it blew new snow into the trail. Some sections I could bike easily, some with difficulty; and some I had to walk. 

Eventually, I passed the last of the mushers, and finally the trail sweeps came by on snowmachines. They checked to make sure I was all right. We said our goodbyes and headed our separate directions. Their trail was quickly getting buried in snow. Ugh. More walking and challenging trail.

Some riding, a lot of walking

I was getting tired. My hands were going numb. My arse was sore. The stupidity of my little adventure was sinking in. I was not trained for this. Had the trail been solid for most of the way, like it had been for the Tanana River Challenge, the ride would have been within my ability. Hard, but doable. But soft trail saps energy. And drifted trail requires walking. I was really looking forward to getting back to that first 12 or so miles of trail, which had been hard in the morning. I really hoped it had stayed that way. 

And it had! I got to that section and pedaled, trying to keep a steady pace, and watching for all trail turnoffs. But I started getting more tired. I had to stop occasionally and take short rest breaks. I had been snacking all along, so I would use these breaks to eat and drink some water. Eating was getting harder, though. I alternated between feeling hungry and having no appetite at all. 

As the sun set, the rest breaks became more frequent. I used tiny hills as an excuse to get off and push my bike. And worried that I wouldn’t make it back to the resort in time to get dinner or the key code. I tried my phone just in case there was some cell service, but of course there wasn’t. I didn’t look at the time. What did it matter? I kept riding. And resting. And riding. And resting. The last few miles felt like it took forever.

Good trail, but daylight is fading

A Warm Bed? Or a Long Drive Back to Fairbanks?

I got to that last mile of connector trail, which had been so soft at the start. It was still soft. I finally checked my phone’s clock: 9:58pm. No restaurant dinner. And still no cell service. (Yeah, I know, but I had to try.) I rode about 50 feet of that trail, but I just didn’t have the energy. I had to walk, so I walked as fast as I could (which wasn’t that fast). Fortunately, the trail crosses the road before reaching the starting area, so I just biked the road back to the start. I started my truck, loaded my bike, and got in. Now it was about 10:20pm. I tried my phone again. No luck. 

Night comes

Fortunately, the drive to the resort was short. I pulled up to the restaurant, relieved to see lights on inside. I wouldn’t get dinner, but maybe someone was inside cleaning up. And there was! Jesse gave me the key code (she had also emailed it to me earlier) and I thanked her. 

I got to my cabin, unloaded what I needed, and checked my phone. Corrine had texted a bit earlier, saying she was a little worried that she hadn’t heard from me. I let her know that I was fine and that we could talk in the morning. I had a freeze-dried meal in my duffle (see, I come prepared for some things!), but I wasn’t hungry. I showered and collapsed in bed, so grateful that I didn’t have to drive back to Fairbanks that night.

That experience really gave me an appreciation for the three bikers – Nikki, Travis, and Ben – and one skier – Riley – who were able to finish the whole 135 miles. Well done all! And congrats to all who tried! 

Human-powered finishers of the 2026 T-Dog 120 (from left): Riley, Ben, Nikki, and Travis.
Pic by Corrine

But I’ve really got to remember to plan things out for adventures like this. Even if I’m going along with someone else who is doing a lot of the planning. No more gestalting! I’m sure I’ll get it figured out eventually. After all, I’m only 66. Plenty of time for learning! 

One more shot of the dogs!