Back to Borealis - with memories of my WM100 races

 

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

I cringe when I hear my whiny voice on that video. Eric and I were halfway through our first White Mountains 100 endurance race back in 2014. We had decided to ski the 100-mile race together. We were taking a break on top of Cache Mountain Divide, the high point nearly 50 miles into the race. We had been skiing for more than 12 hours, the sun was setting, the temperature was dropping, and I was exhausted. How would I ever ski another 50 miles? But my whininess did not prevail. Eric and I did finish, and I was hooked. 

5 miles from the finish of our first WM100 race and still smiling

The WM100 is amazing. Participants of this multisport race—bike, ski, or run—get to travel through 100 beautiful miles of Alaska wilderness. I’ve either competed or volunteered at the race every year since (not including the last two COVID-cancelled years). This year I didn’t apply to enter the race, and I was regretting it somewhat. 

My Great Idea

Since I wasn’t racing and hadn’t officially volunteered, I got the harebrained idea to get one of the White Mountains cabins the night before the race and then ride the course backwards on race day, taking photos of all the racers. It would be great training for my May Cross-Washington bikepacking race attempt, and I could offer the photos to the race organizers. What a great idea!

Not! The only cabin available when I came up with this delusional idea was Borealis-LeFevre, 20 miles in. I haven’t been biking much this winter, so I’m not in great shape. Plus, I would have all my camping gear. I would have to bike 80 miles with a fully loaded bike on Sunday and still make it to work on Monday without being totally trashed. Really? What was I thinking? Obviously, I wasn’t. The weekend before, Eric, friend Jill, and I did the whole loop in four days. Day two—going over the divide from Crowberry to Windy Gap cabins—took me seven hours to go just 35 miles, and I was really tired!

So, I gave up on my grand idea, but since I had the cabin reserved and the weather forecast was great, I decided to go anyway. Eric had other weekend plans so it would just be me.

Borealis/LeFevre cabin

My First WM100: Ski with Eric 

On Saturday morning, as I biked the 19 miles to Borealis cabin, I thought about the first time I participated in the WM100 race. It had been a similar day—sunny, warm, no wind—and the trails had been great. Eric and I decided to ski together since neither of us had done the loop, and we really didn’t know what to expect. 

That was both good and bad. Eric was just getting over a nasty cold, so he was quite a bit slower than me and needed more rest. On the other hand, he doesn’t get down during long-distance races, so it was good to have him around when 1) I wanted to quit at Cache Mountain Divide, 2) we were freezing as we put on cleats to cross the ice lakes and 3) the temperature dropped to -20F and it took FOREVER to get from checkpoint 3 to 4, which was supposed to be mostly downhill but didn’t feel like it. Still, 32 hours after we started, we crossed the finish line together with a kiss! My feet and body were trashed, but my heart was full.

Our 100-mile finish kiss

Compared to skiing the whole race, Saturday’s easy ride to the cabin was a piece of cake. After making a fire, melting snow, and gathering firewood, it was still only 2 p.m. The day was sunny and above freezing, so I decided to check out Big Bend Trail, which runs 14 miles between Borealis and Colorado Creek cabins. As one of the last White Mountains trails to get groomed, it doesn’t get a lot of traffic. The ridge part of the trail is often windblown, but I decided to check it out. I had never been on it before, so I was excited to see new territory.

Starting down Big Bend Trail

My Second WM100: Fail

As I headed out Big Bend, I remembered the second time I attempted the WM100, just a year after that first finish. I thought I could ski it faster—maybe even in 24 hours—so this time I went solo. Eric was fine with that. He wasn’t interested in skiing it again. But he agreed to ski the first part with me. Unfortunately, conditions were icy, which really hurt my arthritic knees, especially snowplowing. After only 8 miles I could tell it was going to be too painful to continue for hours and hours. I didn’t want to have to be rescued. Sadly, I turned around. 

I cried a little when I got back to race headquarters and tried to explain to Jay Cable, who was volunteering, why I had to DNF. It was the right decision, but I was really disappointed. Poor Jay was clearly uncomfortable dealing with a crying racer, but he patted my back as I wiped away tears. I knew I would be back but not until after I had my knees replaced.

Big Bend – For the First Time

My replaced knees felt great while biking on Saturday as I started on Big Bend. The trail was a little soft, especially in windblown areas, so I had to keep stopping and letting air out of my tires. But I got a good look at the wolf tracks that I followed for a few miles over the flat terrain. 

In that area, Beaver Creek makes a 90-degree turn around the mountains—a big bend—but the trail eventually angles up and away from the creek toward a ridge. It’s a long 5-mile climb, and the views opened up more and more as I ascended. The trail also became more drifted, especially once I broke out of the trees. I would pedal a few yards, hit a soft spot, get off and push, then try to ride again. Repeat, repeat, repeat. Some drifts were so hardpacked I could ride over them, but many were not. I never knew which it would be, so I just kept trying to ride. 

About 10 miles in I got to the high spot. I could see the trail drop down a bit then head up a slight rise before dropping down again. The trail was even more unrideable, and I decided that it wasn’t worth it to push my bike downhill and then have to hike with it back up again. Like I often do, I had set a somewhat unrealistic goal: Make a loop by going past Colorado Creek Cabin, to Wolf Run and back to Borealis. If everything had been perfect, I might have been able to do it, but I was running out of daylight. So, just like my failed WM100 attempt, I sadly headed back. 

Near the high point on the Big Bend Trail

My Third WM100: Back on Skis, Trying to Go Faster

Back at the cabin before dark, I restoked the fire and made dinner. It was nice to relax in the warm cabin and think about the racers getting ready for their big day. I also thought about my comeback year on skis in 2017. I had my knees replaced the year before, and I had trained hard that winter. I felt ready for a faster finish time. Maybe 24 hours? I started the race with high hopes.

Feeling strong early in the race

I finished and felt strong, but my time was just about the same as when Eric and I did the race together. How could that be? I had some waxing issues the last 20 miles that slowed me down, but still I thought I should have been faster. I stopped less, I felt stronger. I talked to several other skiers, and they all felt it was a slower year: colder snow, less glide. Shalane Frost, who wins the women’s ski race every year, was a couple of hours slower than usual. Clearly, the problem was the snow. 

So, since I skied the course in about the same time as my first race, but the conditions were slower, that means I can say I was actually faster. Right? Right? No matter, I was happy to have finished again, but sadly gave up on the idea that I could ski the race in 24 hours. 

At the finish of my 2nd successful WM100 race - no faster but felt stronger

My Fourth WM100: A Blast on a Bike

The next morning, Sunday, I had a leisurely breakfast and waited for the sun to come up before biking back to the trailhead. As I relaxed, I thought about the racers arriving at the start and then taking off. 

Racers at the start of the 2019 WM100 race

I also thought about the difference between the times I skied the race and the time I biked it in 2019. On skis I made to this cabin (checkpoint 4) at about 6 a.m., just as it was getting light. When I biked, I was much faster, arriving in early evening while the sun was still up. 

Eric and I had volunteered in 2018 to reserve a spot in the 2019 race. Eric wanted to bike, since he would be the second person to finish in all three categories (foot, ski, bike) and the first to do it in four modes (he kicksledded one year). I also wanted to bike. We decided to ride our own races, but we ended up leap-frogging several times and finished only 15 minutes apart. (Not that there’s any competition between us, but I did finish first!) 

At the finish of our 2019 WM100 race

Not only that, I also nearly made my goal. My unrealistic goal! When I race, I usually have realistic and unrealistic finish times. The latter can be accomplished only if the stars align, and everything comes together perfectly. For 2019, my unrealistic time was 14 hours. Then everything came together. I had a great race. Trails were smooth and hard, overflow was minimal. I was able to finish just 13 minutes over my unrealistic finish time! I almost feel like I should never bike it again, because it will never be so good.

Eric takes a photo as he catches up to me out on the course

One advantage of being faster was seeing the entire trail during daylight. I especially enjoyed the limestone cliffs around Windy Gap. On skis I had passed through there in the middle of the night. The other advantage is that I got to sleep in my bed at a decent time! Much nicer than slogging through the night. 

I finally got to see Windy Gap checkpoint during daylight hours

Final Thoughts

After finishing breakfast on Sunday, I packed my things. I swept the floor of Borealis-LeFevre Cabin, knowing it would soon be packed with volunteers and racers. Leaving was bittersweet. But any sad thoughts were quickly washed away as I headed out around 9:30 a.m. into the sunshine. The day was beautiful. The temperature was warm -5F. It had been a great overnight trip. 

I smiled as I pedaled up the 2-mile grind out of Beaver Creek. I thought about all my friends who were out there racing on such a beautiful morning. I knew each would have challenges, but I hoped they all would have fun and reach any goals they set, even the unrealistic ones. Most of all, I looked forward to hearing their stories.