Race Report: Arrowhead 135 DNF

Alex Pretti and Renee Good. May their names be eternal.

We were barely an hour outside the Twin Cities when my wife’s phone started getting texts from her friends about the second murder of an American citizen in Minneapolis by federal agents. She let me know what was going on as I continued to drive. When we stopped for snacks in Hinckley, MN I admitted that I almost turned the van around. My excitement for spending the next week walking through the woods felt vain and petty compared to what was happening back home.

However, I didn’t turn around. I knew that there was little that would be gained by going back home, especially with only the barest sliver of news about what had happened. So we kept going. The rest of the drive was weighty, but we did our best to distract ourselves with podcasts. Eventually we arrived in International Falls, MN and started seeing old and dear friends. At that moment there was no where I’d rather be. Even friends who skew to the opposite political spectrum as me were complaining about how insane the situation was and how much it needed to stop. It all helped me feel a bit more comfort with continuing on.

We spent Saturday evening hanging out with Angela, Jeff, and Josh, having a nice dinner in the hotel restaurant. It was a reminder that what makes the trail and ultra running community so strong is what also makes Minnesota strong. We take care of, and look out for, each other.

On Sunday I switched it into race mode and we hit the grocery store so I could prep my food for the week. I try to buy my perishable groceries local for these types of events, both as a way to support the local community, and to not have to deal with logistics of transporting more food than I need to. I buckled down over a desk in the hotel room and started spreading various fillings into tortillas.

I got my sled all packed and arranged, complete with Minnesota flag. Total weight, 35 lbs.

After some time relaxing it was time for the pre-race meeting and so back to the community center we went to surround ourselves with our community. I’ve been a part of this event as a volunteer for many years, and so there was little that was new to me in the meeting. But, it’s always good to get a fresh reminder of all the logistical details for an event as huge as this.

For those unfamiliar, the Arrowhead 135 is the toughest winter ultramarathon in the lower 48. Participants travel from International Falls to Tower, MN along the Arrowhead snowmobile trail, carrying all of their survival gear and food with them on either foot, bike, or ski. There are only three checkpoints on the course, and they are spaced at least 35 miles apart from each other. The course is remote with little cell signal, very few road crossings, and often unforgiving terrain.

Only 47% of foot participants who start the race have ever finished it. This is not for the faint hearted.

After the pre-race meeting we had a quick meal at the community center and then headed back to the hotel for desert and drinks. We bumped into Ben, Angela, and Jeff again and spent some more time hanging out and getting mentally prepared for what was to come.

I got to bed at a decent hour, but sleep was mixed. I woke up feeling a little draggy, but ready to give this a shot. We got dressed and got the van loaded and before I knew it I was at the start line with 4 minutes to go. Next thing I know I hear the starting cry of the race director and we’re off. The air temp was -15°F (-26°C) but was warming up rapidly. I had a good layering strategy right off the bat, but within a half a mile realized I had one too many layers and had to stop to shed a coat.

A brisk morning

The pack had spread out quickly and I soon found myself alone towards the front of the ‘back of the pack’. I was moving really well at a sub-20 minute per mile pace and was feeling mostly good. Somewhere around mile 8 I ran into my friend Kari and we spent some time hiking together. She was incredibly positive and encouraging as I was lamenting that I didn’t feel like I trained enough. As we made the turn off the Wild Ox trail that we start on, and onto the Arrowhead Trail I felt a good burst of speed and move ahead to keep the momentum going.

Walking into the sunrise

Then around 5 hours everything started to fall apart. The legs got heavy and sluggish, and the sled felt like it weighed 10 lbs. heavier than when I started. I kept eating as normal to keep the energy levels up, but the body just kept pushing back, and it was here that I started to realize how unprepared I truly was for this adventure.

Not unprepared from a logistics and systems perspective though. One of the things that I was most proud of in this event was how well I had dialed in my support systems. My food was easy to reach, my sled was stocked appropriately and only weighed 35 lbs., and my clothing layering strategy was working perfectly. All my years of learning and exposure to these races was paying off.

What was unprepared was my body. As I’ve lamented in some previous posts, the last two years have been a slow decline in my overall fitness output, both in mileage/duration and in intensity. My preparation for this event was no different, and now I was paying the price. The slow plod of my feet kept me moving forward, but the pace had come to a crawl compared to what I’ve been capable in the past (such as at Tuscobia 80 a few years ago).

One of the difficulties with Arrowhead for me is the timing. Trying to sustain a training block through the holidays is difficult, but then when you compound it with volunteering at Tuscobia, and then putting on St Croix 40… it becomes an incredible challenge. Because it’s winter there’s also a good chance that I’ll have at least one week of being sick in the middle of it as well. All of this combined means that training for Arrowhead needs to happen throughout the entire year, building up a strong enough base to sustain the down time in January. That just hasn’t been the reality of my last couple years of training.

The beauty of a light snow

Back on trail I was plodding along and facing the reality that I was going to start pushing cutoffs at the checkpoints at the rate I was going. By the time I hit mile 18 and was crossing Highway 53 I was resigning myself to what would probably end up being a DNF. However, despite the very real opportunity to stop and quit at Highway 53, I committed to getting myself to the checkpoint under my own power. I wanted to see how far I could actually take this.

Ruffs are amazing

Around mile 20 I had to stop and take care of a blister on the side of my heel. Despite my pride in my systems, there were still a couple things I could have done better, and putting my blister kit somewhere other than in the very back of my hydration vest would have been a good choice. I had to strip off multiple coats to get the vest off, deal with the blister, and then get dressed and moving again. That is something I could have made a lot easier on myself.

By mile 25 my lower back started to scream at me, another sign that I didn’t do enough work in training to keep it healthy. I decided that since my day was 99% ending at the checkpoint to start popping ibuprofen. I avoid taking ibuprofen during events as it can cause real damage to bodily systems, but since I knew it would only be temporary I decided to do what I could to make things better while I was out there.

Sure enough when the ibuprofen kicked in I felt like my old self again and my pace significantly improved. I wasn’t moving sub-20 anymore, but I was actually starting to see people again in the distance and gain on them. This gave me a bit of a motivational boost and I decided to see what I could do in these last 12 miles before the checkpoint.

As darkness hit, I got closer and closer to lights in front of me. First I passed one person, then another, and finally two more. The magic of drugs, and pain free hiking, make the miles pass by much quicker. I chatted with each of the folks I passed, and offered encouragement, hoping some of them would keep going. I had called Lisa and she was planning to pick me up when I got to the Gateway store (mile 37 checkpoint). The idea of being able to stop the pain also gave me a little bit of a boost and I felt like I was flying. In reality it was barely a 20 minute mile, but it felt like I was really cruising.

I arrived at Gateway a little after 8pm, and though I had until 9 to head back out, I turned in my tracker and called it a day. Sustaining myself with doses of painkillers was not something I was willing to do, just to try and chase cutoffs for two more days. Lisa was just arriving as I got there and so we loaded up the sled and headed back to the hotel.

Despite the day not turning out the way that I wanted, I have no regrets. That is due to the fact that this was one of the most beautiful days I have ever spent in the woods in winter. The trail was stunningly beautiful with mixes of young and old growth forests. There was a light snowfall for part of the day that gave the entire scene a magical quality.

As I walked through some of the most remote areas of the state, hearing nothing but the wind in the treetops I was hit with an immense gratitude for the opportunity to experience this. I looked around me and saw nothing but natural beauty. The quiet stillness of the forest floor was disturbed only by a giant snowshoe hare that darted across the trail in front of me. I could have stayed walking the trail forever.

Ice beard game was strong!

Granted, I would have much rather had a hot tent in my sled, set up a little wood stove, and watched the woods with a cup of hot cocoa in my hand. But that’s not the reason for Arrowhead, and so I just kept moving forward. It does make me think some winter camping might be in my future though.

We’re safely back home and I’m recovering from the adventure. Mostly just stiff and sore, and nursing a bad blister, but otherwise unscathed. I promised the race directors of Arrowhead that I’d be back next year as a volunteer again, and I’m looking forward to stepping back into that role. I’m grateful I had the opportunity to try this race, and I have mad respect for everyone who completes it, or even toes the starting line.

This is a special place, and I hold this race, and it’s community dear to my heart.

#arrowhead135 #RaceReports #winterUltra

Race Report: Tuscobia 80 Winter Ultra

As friends and family are aware, I’ve been trying to finish the Tuscobia 80 Winter Ultra for 3 years. After two failures in 2019 and 2021, this was the year I committed that it would happen no matter what. I knew I could do this race. I knew it was within my limits. I just needed to execute, and finally this year I felt more ready than I ever had before.

For the uninitiated, the Tuscobia 80 is a winter ultramarathon. You participate on foot, bike, or ski and have to traverse 80 miles (or 160 if you’re doing the big one) from Park Falls, WI to Rice Lake, WI. You have to carry all your survival gear with you such as food, water, sleep system, clothing, etc., as there is only one checkpoint in the entire race at mile 35.

Training

The first year my attempt was on foot, however my back didn’t agree with me and I dropped at the checkpoint. The second attempt was on bike and between lack of specific fitness and a mechanical issue, I only made it to mile 41. This year I decided to go back to my comfort zone on foot, but I needed to ensure success more than I had in the past. That meant doing specific training that would strengthen my back muscles and remove that factor from the equation. I also spent the first half of the year working with my chiropractor Gwen getting everything into alignment and where it was supposed to be.

As luck would have it, this year my friends Mike and Beth decided to give the event an attempt as well. Since I’m a race director of a winter ultra, and a two-time participant, they were looking to me for a lot of advice. The first thing I did was draft up a training plan that slowly built up our ‘pulling’ training, and built up our back strength to where I needed it to be.

Due to lack of snow, the first half of our training runs were with tires on dirt. Even though my tire only weighed ~20-ish lbs the resistance on dirt/grass/gravel is much higher than snow. Our first pulls were rough, and I think there was a moment or two of doubt about how we were going to get up to our peak training goals. However, as the weeks went by and we extended our pulls longer and longer, things started to click. By the time we switched over to sleds in early December I was feeling great and my confidence level was higher than it’s ever been.

For those curious, we mixed in a slow ramp up of weekly long pulls, maxing out around 18 miles/6 hours, with occasional hill workouts while pulling a tire/sled. We only pulled once or twice a week, but we made sure to make it count with long workouts that tested our stamina. We did decide to peak at 6 hours, as the training benefit of going longer than that starts to become questionable. In addition to strength building, we also needed to “do no harm” before we got to race day. It’s too easy to over do it and end up with an injury before hitting a start line.

Race prep

One other goal of mine for this year was to do better at packing my sled and gear. In my last attempt I overpacked and suffered for it. This time I set a goal of 35-37 lbs fully loaded. That meant being thoughtful about the amount of clothing I was carrying, and being realistic about what food would actually work for me over the long haul.

The lead-up forecast for the race was predicting very warm temps; over 25°F as the low temp overnight and mid-30°F during the day. That meant a lot less emergency cold weather gear, but it also meant swapping in more changes of lightweight clothing to ensure I could stay dry (including 4-5 pairs of socks). The warmer temps also meant I could use different food that wouldn’t freeze into a brick in the milder temps. I even brought some bagels with peanut butter, something I’d think twice about in temps below 0°F as the bread would freeze solid.

I wasn’t sure how much water I would need to use in these temps, but opt’d to carry a bladder with 1.5 liters and two 32oz Nalgene bottles. I left one of the bottles empty at the start, knowing that there are a few gas stations to stop at in the first 30 miles if I started running out of water. It’s important to carry enough capacity for all the water you need, even if you don’t fill it right from the start. Thankfully, I never came close to running out of water, so this was pretty well dialed in.

Because of the wetter and warmer conditions I packed everything inside dry bags, inside the duffle bag on my sled. I had no idea how wet things were going to get, and dry bags provide protection as well as a good way to organize things into different areas. I had bags for specific purposes and was often able to open up my duffle and immediately see which bag I needed to grab. The only issue I ran in to was that a couple of my dry bags were the same color. This led to a couple points of confusion in the middle of the night when I was tired. Note to self: get more different colored dry bags.

I did make one mistake packing my dry bag that I had set aside for the 35 mile checkpoint, and so I ended up needing to bring in a couple of bags to fully do my change-out. It was a simple oversight, and not a huge deal in the grand scheme of things. However, it’s something I know I could correct in future efforts.

The race

The night before the race we settled into the AirBnB and continued fiddling with our gear one last time. Even though we didn’t launch until 10am on Saturday morning we had to be to the finish line around 6:30am to catch a bus to the start line, 2 hours away. The bus ride was pretty much as expected. Two hours on a school bus, in the dark, trying to catch a couple more moments of fitful sleep. By the last half an hour most people were pretty well awake and there were conversations happening everywhere. I got to meet a woman from Duluth who was biking the event with her son and husband, so we talked a lot about their effort this year. I also got to overhear people talking about getting ready for St Croix 40 (the race that my wife and I direct), which is always fun to listen in on and see what people are planning.

Eventually we arrived at the Butternut Lake Lodge where the race would begin (and the 160 milers do their turn-around). The usual morning race prep ensued; hitting the bathroom multiple times, grabbing a quick snack, nervously chatting with folks. Soon enough though it was time to launch and the day had begun. The first two miles of the race is across a frozen lake, which offers very mixed conditions. Sometimes it’s glare ice, and other times it’s drifted snow. We followed the markers to the other side as efficiently as we could and soon enough we were on the short singletrack section that connects us to the road, which then brings us to the Tuscobia trail.

It takes about 4.5 miles to get to the Tuscobia trail itself. Knowing that the rest of the next day and a half involves going straight forever, made the journey from the start a bit more interesting. It took me about an hour and 25 minutes to get to the trail, where I met up again with Mike and Beth and the pack of participants started to spread out a bit more as people settled into their pace.

The day was getting quite warm, but thanks to an overnight cooldown into the single digits (F) we got to enjoy a few hours of really packed down trail before things got soft. As the day got brighter the trees lost their layer of hoarfrost and we even got some peeks of sunshine to lift our spirits.

I was moving really well in these early sections, so much so that Mike even asked if I was pushing too hard. I felt great, but knew I should conserve some energy so I took his warning to heart and started to back off just a little bit, aiming for 18 minute miles instead of 17. During this first twenty mile segment we got to walk with lots of friends, some of which we haven’t seen in a long time. It was great to catch up and spend time with people, and the conversations helped make the time pass more quickly.

Mike, Beth, and I had mostly stayed together through this section but around mile 17 I realized I would need a bathroom break soon. I knew there was a vault toilet at the campground in Loretta that was open and stocked just for us, so I kicked it back into a higher gear and made my way there first to take care of my needs. When Mike and Beth arrived we did a quick sock change, since everything was getting wet quickly, and headed back out on the trail for the last few hours of daylight.

At the end of December the nights are over 14 hours long. That meant that we would soon be in darkness, and would stay that way for quite a while. Mentally preparing to be outside all night, when the night is so long, requires fortitude. You have to approach the coming darkness with a sense of calm acceptance and understanding that this will simply be your life for the next 14 hours. As the sun faded and my headlight came out of my pocket, I steeled myself for the long night ahead.

Between mile 20 and mile 30 I once again went on ahead so I could hit the gas station in the town of Winter (mile 30) and use a bathroom again (recurring theme I’ll talk more about later). As I came out of the gas station to head over to the historic train depot where the bathrooms were, Mike caught up to me and let me know that Beth was dropping.

We helped make a few texts to ensure she had a ride to safety and then the two of us pushed on to the mile 35 checkpoint at Ojibwa. Coming into Ojibwa is always fun. It’s a small old stone building at a park with a roaring fireplace and some of the friendliest and happiest volunteers you’ll ever find. It’s truly the all-night party in the woods type of place and as soon as I walked in the door I was greeted with an eruption of cheers. I found myself a spot at a table and went about changing my upper layers, another sock change, and eating some real food. We spent roughly 30 minutes getting re-organized and ready for the deepest part of the night, and then headed back out on trail.

Something that often happens at Ojibwa is that people will leave in groups, and this night was no exception. As we headed out we were a part of a train of people that spent the next few hours together talking and sharing stories of the previous day. One of the treats of the evening was getting to run into my friend Jeff L. who was back in town from California to run the 160 mile race. We had caught up to him, and he was feeling good enough to hang with us for a while so we got to catch up on life. In addition to other folks we spent occasional time with (Ken, Jim, Ron… and I’m forgetting some) we picked up Jodee, another friend who had moved away from Minnesota but that we now got to spend some trail time with.

As we traveled we took note of how close we were getting to midnight… on New Year’s Eve. Sure enough at 12:00 we heard some fireworks in the distance and that meant it was time to pause our journey and have a quick celebration. Both Jeff and I had come prepared with some whiskey to toast in the new year, so we pulled out our flasks and raised a glass to good friends, crazy ideas, and the joy of winter. After downing our libations we turned back down the trail, put our heads down, and got back to work.

Photo Credit: Jodee Mason

Shortly after midnight Jeff dropped back and so Mike, Jodee, and I continued on at a good pace around 19 minute miles. Our plan was to make one final stop for the night in the town of Couderay (mile 48-ish) where a bivy spot had been set aside for racers. We weren’t going to do a full sleep setup, but simply put our heads down for 10 minutes to try and get a little REM sleep. I can’t say that I actually slept, but the rest was welcome. We also got to use some nice vault toilets and prepare for the next section which would be long, dark, and desolate.

Once you leave Couderay there isn’t anything for 17 miles until the town of Birchwood. It’s one of the longest stretches of the course with nothing around it, and we were doing it in the dead of night. It was around 3am when we set out from our rest, and we still wouldn’t see the glimmers of daylight for another 3-4 hours. It also doesn’t help that this section consists of a 200 ft climb over a 6 mile stretch. It’s not steep at all, but when it takes you nearly two hours to go six miles, that very slight uphill gets really annoying.

We traded off taking the lead in our little group, trying to occasionally talk to keep our spirits up, but this is truly one of the most mentally taxing sections of the race. There’s really nothing to do except keep pushing forward and try to keep your mind active and alert until daylight. On a positive note, when you crest the top of the climb the entire rest of the race is net downhill. So we knew that once we hit the high point, the worst was behind us.

As we approached Birchwood we made another stop for a sock change. As we started moving again we were greeted by Chris Scotch on his snowmobile. Chris and his wife Helen are the race directors and Chris spends most of his time out on course making sure people are safe. He complimented us on how great we were looking, and how well we were moving, and told us to just keep on pushing forward. By this point daylight had come again and my spirits were feeling rejuvenated. I knew that in the town of Birchwood there was Ed’s Pit Stop which is a gas station with hot food, and my stomach was asking for breakfast.

As we arrived at the gas station we were greeted by a few volunteers who were hanging out there and we got a chance to do a calorie reset. I had been doing really well putting down around 200 calories per hour during the entire event, but I was just getting tired of eating. The idea of stocking up on a good meal so that I could take a couple hours off of eating sounded like a great idea. I got a breakfast sandwich, chips, and a cookie. I also grabbed another root beer to get some liquid calories and sugar going as well. We probably spent a little too much time at this gas station, but the pause was nice. We had just under 17 miles to go, so it was time to get back at it.

Photo Credit: Craig Mason

As we headed back on trail our threesome started to separate a little bit. I was still feeling really good and so I took the lead and started pushing the pace. With about 13 miles to go I realized that there was still a chance that I could finish in under 30 hours (4pm). That would ensure that I would be finishing in daylight and wouldn’t have to pull out the headlamp a second time. That’s all it took to light a fire under my butt and make me push even a little harder. Mike told me to just keep moving on ahead at my pace as I was moving stronger than he was at the time and so I did.

The next few miles were a blur of fast walking and coming to the realization that I would need one more bathroom stop. Thankfully, there was a bar and grill in the town of Brill and I was able to get in there quickly to take care of business. I had to turn down SEVERAL offers of free beer from the patrons who wanted to hear more about the race, but I was on a mission. I returned to the trail just as Mike was catching up again after my stop, but I put it back into gear and soon enough I was on my own again.

The final 4 miles of the race is on the Wild Rivers trail which brings you from the end of the Tuscobia trail, down into Rice Lake. As I got the the turn was was greeted by my friend Kari who leaped over a snowbank to come and give me a hug and cheer me on. Kari’s mom Rhende was there as well and the two of them once again complimented me on how well I was moving and how good I looked. I took the encouragement, shared some updates from when I passed Kari’s boyfriend Erik, and made the final turn towards home.

This final 4 mile stretch was long and tedious. My brain started to wander and my body started to slow. I put on a podcast through my iPhone speakers to keep my mind engaged and try and stave off the sleepies that were starting to set in. I also made the choice to not eat as much as I should in this final section because I didn’t want to deal with another bathroom break if things moved too quickly through the system. If I had gotten a bit more energy into my body I might have been a little bit perkier in this final push, but overall I was still in the 18-19 minute per mile range, and that was good enough for me.

Photo Credit: Angela Johnson

Eventually, I saw the end. With about two tenths of a mile to go I saw people waiting at the finish line, and managed my best impression of a “run” that I could muster. I crossed the final road and into the waiting arms of the finish line. I pushed as hard as I could and left everything I had out on the course. The final finish time: 29 hours and 43 minutes. I had smashed my goal and finally completed the Tuscobia 80.

Photo Credit: Helen Scotch

My friend Mike finished 3 minutes behind me and we celebrated together with a finish line pic. All the hard work and training that we had put in had paid off, and here we were celebrating at the end. I went inside the building and my wife went into gear taking care of me. I had some pop and beer and started airing out my feet a bit. Friends came up and congratulated us and we briefly talked about how the race went. Soon though it was time to crash and Lisa and Beth helped us load up into our vehicles and brought us back to the AirBnB.

The rest of the evening was spent hobbling around the house, showering, eating Mexican food, and taking naps, before finally crashing for the night. I went to bed with one of the biggest smiles on my face that I’ve ever had.

Aftermath

Despite all of the excellent execution during the race, I did end up with a couple small issues at the end. In the final 16 miles I started to develop a blister on the ball of my right foot. I considered stopping to try and do something with it, but decided to just try doing another sock change with cornstarch to dry things out and hope for the best. The issue is that I ended up favoring the outside of my right foot as I continued walking, and by the end of the race I had a very minor sprain of my ankle going from all the awkward movement. The soft and uneven snow didn’t help either. Thankfully, the pain from the ankle subsided within 2 days and a week later it feels perfectly fine.

The other issue was a complete rookie mistake. I forgot to check the state of my toenails before the race and my left foot had two toenails that were way too long, causing them to go black. They’ve already fallen off, and now I’m just dealing with the pain that goes along with that. However, that still means that running, and even wearing shoes, can be somewhat uncomfortable. A few more days of recovery are required to get that back to feeling good.

The only other issue that I encountered on the trail was dealing with my first ultra after my stomach surgery. I need to see if I can figure anything out to help with all the digestive and gas issues I’m dealing with. I had to use the bathroom far more often than a normal ultra and I’d like to see if I can figure out what else I can do to make things work better ‘down there’.

Final thoughts

This race was hugely important to me. As a winter ultra race director it was a point of pride that I actually complete one of these events. In 2019 when I decided to go for this I thought it would be a one-and-done type of thing. I would get it done and then go back to volunteering. Two failed attempts (and a pandemic) later and I knew I had to finally put a bow on this.

I was also dealing with expectations. Not just from myself, but from others. So many of my friends had seen me bash my head against this and fail multiple times that I felt a sense of obligation to prove to everyone that I was capable of this. Maybe this is why it felt like the cheers when I entered Ojibwa we just ever so slightly louder, or friends were leaping over snowbanks to congratulate me. Perceived or real, I felt a strong desire to do this for not just myself, but everyone who had supported me over the past few years.

Not only did I manage to meet those expectations, but I did it in the way that I wanted, executing as flawlessly as any endeavor like this can go (which usually involves a lot of flaws even on a good day). I trained the way I wanted to, and put in the work I needed to in order to be successful. I planned and adapted for as many possibilities as I could in the weeks leading up to the race. I pushed aside the mental demons that always visit before a big race saying, “Wouldn’t you just rather stay home and play video games?” I put everything into its place, and just got it done.

The end result was my best performance of any race that I’ve ever done. Not only did I meet my goal time, but I placed higher in the rankings than I ever have before, breaking into the top half of all participants. I’m always solidly at the end of the middle-of-the-pack or front of the back-of-the-pack. Finishing a race in the top 50% is pretty much unheard of for me. That’s going to be a source of pride for me for quite a while, and something that may never happen again in my athletic career.

As much as I hate to use the phrase, I’m proud of what I did. I dislike dwelling on things like pride, but in this case I feel justified in giving myself a pat on the back for a job well done. With that pride comes a healthy dose of realism of what it took to get there, and the hard work and sacrifice involved. This wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t intended to be. And that’s kinda the point.

#RaceReports #tuscobia #winterUltra

The next big adventure!

If all goes according to plan, next Monday morning I will begin the Arrowhead 135 race in far northern Minnesota. This is a 135 mile journey from International Falls, MN to Tower, MN on what is typically the coldest week of the winter. The event can be done on foot, bike, or ski, but no matter the method you need to be done in 60 hours and carry with you all the required survival gear. This is similar to the Tuscobia 80 race that I completed a couple years ago, as well as the St Croix 40 Winter Ultra that my wife and I host.

For my attempt this year I will be doing the course on foot. I feel like I’m most reliable on foot, and given the current conditions (soft snow), I don’t think a bike is going to give me a huge advantage. As of this moment the current forecast is for mostly mild temps in the teens and 20s and no real sign of getting below 0°F (-17°C). The area has not gotten a ton of snow so there’s been very little grooming done on the trail and not a lot of snowmobile traffic. This has the potential to slow things down a bit and make soft and slow conditions.

The upside to the milder temps is that I don’t need to pack as much “oh sh*t” gear and can rely on more traditional cold weather items. This will help lighten the sled I’ll be pulling a bit, and I can substitute in more clothing changes to keep myself dry if I work up too much of a sweat. I’m not going to be stupid though and some heavy mittens and a big heavy jacket will still be with me at all times.

I’m also getting my food situation in order. At Tuscobia I was able to rely on local businesses (gas stations, restaurants, etc) for more for variety. Arrowhead is much more remote and after the checkpoint at the Gateway convince store at mile 35, you’re pretty much out of luck. I’m hoping to cram enough variety in my menu to encourage myself to eat regularly, as a big danger in these multi-day efforts is simply getting tired and bored of eating. The means you’re not fueling your engine, which means everything is going to be much worse for you.

This challenge will be one of the biggest things I’ve ever attempted. I have some time goals (finishing around 50 hours would be great), but realistically I need to focus on just finishing. To be clear, this is a race that very few people finish. In the history of the event the average finish rate on foot is 46%, with some years being as low as 17%-18%.

Simply put: The odds are NOT in my favor.

That doesn’t mean I’m not going to give it a solid try though. I’m starting the race with a mindset that I’m there for an adventure and to simply soak in the beauty of spending 2-3 days in nature. All I need to do is eat and walk. Maybe 2-3 hours of napping throughout the event, but otherwise… eat and walk.

If all goes well, next Wednesday I’ll be crossing the finish line in triumph. However, even just starting this event is a bucket-list worthy item and I’ll get to cross that off Monday morning.

If you want to follow along on the trackers that we’re all wearing you can view the event on Trackleaders: https://trackleaders.com/arrowhead25

The dots aren’t going to move very quickly, but it’ll give you a sense of how things are going.

#arrowhead135 #winterUltra

Reflecting on seven years of race directing

This past weekend we completed our sixth annual St Croix 40 Winter Ultra event. We started this journey seven years ago (one year off for COVID) and have since added a second race to our stable, as well as contemplated others. What began as an idle question has now developed into something that has provided incredible experiences to hundreds of people.

St Croix 40 began when I mused that I wished there were some shorter winter ultra events in the area so that people could work themselves up to events like Tuscobia or Arrowhead, and have a training ground to test out how to be successful. From this idea my wife and I created an event that takes this idea and gives the race a specific purpose that is baked into its fabric. Participants not only need to complete the course, but also need to demonstrate proficiency with skills such as boiling water and using their sleep system. It’s been an event that has launched some people into incredibly bigger adventures, such as the Iditarod Trail Invitational in Alaska.

Over the course of these years we’ve also honed our skills and learned what works and what doesn’t. COVID shifted us to pre-recorded pre-race meetings instead of sitting everyone down in a room the night of the event. We’ve settled on swag and gear that works for us and have developed relationships with vendors that help smooth that whole process. We’ve also partnered with great folks like a local chef who comes out and caters all of our food for the participants and takes all that work off of our plate.

All in all we’ve learned a lot and have grown as event planners. In doing some self-reflection I think we need to make sure we don’t get too lax on things though. This year we didn’t do our traditional checklist and ended up forgetting our finish line banner. Next year we’ll tighten up our pre-race checks a little better.

I still think that the biggest thing that race directing does for me is the joy I get when people cross that finish line and realize that they just did something very hard and challenging that only very few people experience. Especially in years where there are difficulties to overcome (like the snow challenges this year) seeing people reach their limits and then push beyond, is incredible. Even seeing people make that call that they need to tap out and live to fight another day is inspiring because it shows that we’re giving people the type of challenge that they’re looking for. That’s the thing with a challenge, sometimes you don’t succeed.

One of our biggest concerns in the coming years has got to be the changing climate conditions. The past two years have been terrible winters for snow conditions, and if it wasn’t for a 1.5 inch snowfall a couple days before the race participants would have been on dry ground. Then we ended up getting 6 inches of snow throughout the event which made for an amazingly beautiful night, despite the ever softening and mushy ground conditions for the racers. All the winter ultra race directors are concerns about how these trends are going to shift and change over the next few years.

Overall though, I’m happy that we started this endeavor seven years ago and despite the busyness it adds to our life, it feels worth it. We’re adding something to the world that has meaning and value, and creates adventures, memories, and relationships for people that they wouldn’t otherwise have.

Onward to even more adventures in the future.

#raceDirecting #stCroixWinterUltra #winterUltra