This I Believe

Skiing and hiking from the Pacific to the Yukon

As the full moon descends in the west the sun is just rising in the east. It is a magnificent view with 150 miles of the Alaska Range spread out before me from Denali to where this incredible range runs toward the setting sun. It is -20 F and with a 20-25 mph wind the wind chill must be close to -35 F. I am skiing and warm. My heart is pounding as I ski with my 65 lb. sled across the frozen tundra of the Fairwell Burn north of the towering Alaska Range.

I am skiing the section of the Iditarod Trail from north of the Alaska Range to Nicolai then down the Kushkokwim to McGrath. When I complete this section I will have skied/hiked 700 miles from my home at Seward to the Iditarod Gold Fields then on to the Yukon River. This is the first section I have skied alone.

Flying over the Alaska Range to McGrath to start the journey took me over the Alaska Range. I first made that flight as a teenager in 1967 to fight fire in the Interior. This time the world is white with snow and Denali rises to the north. For three days I would see no one.

The awesome space was sublime. Skiing with the Alaska Range spread before me was a dream and whenever I looked at Denali I thought of traversing it in 2000 during a 25 day expedition. When I skied from Bear Cr. cabin at 07:30 the moon was just setting as the sun lit up the day. I skied 22 miles in just over 10 hours into a wind. At Sullivan Cr. Bridge there is a stream flowing! It is amazing to see flowing water at -35 F windchill. That night I camp in a meadow, melt snow for water and eat freeze dried dinner. As the sun sets at 19:00 I am in my Denali sleeping bag and stay there until 06:45 the next morning.

The day dawns bright and clear; after arising I pack my gear and start skiing. Breakfast is a Cliff bar and drink of water from the water bottles I sleep with. Anything you don’t want to freeze must be in the sleeping bag with you. It is a beautiful ski into the village of Nicolai on the Kushkokwim River. As I arrive a village elder named Phillip comes out of his modest wood frame home and welcomes me, (Are you an ultra-sport racer? Did you start in Anchorage?)

(I started in Seward, I am now skiing to the Bering Sea.)

The next morning I was on the trail again by 07:30 just as golden-throned dawn lit up the Alaska Range. This day I would ski 11 hours. There are bison and wolves in the area and I saw their tracks. When a plane flew over and spotted me it waved its wings.

I camped just an hour before sunset and am in my bag by 19:00. That gives me almost 12 hours/day in a sleeping bag. It is cold enough that if you are not skiing they you are in a bag. Alex Holmberg is snowmaching thru and stops to talk. In the McGrath area the smokejumpers are known. (My uncle Ernie Holmberg was a smokejumper, he is buried at the family homestead about 12 miles upriver from McGrath.)

Alex asked me what I thought about when I would ski 11+ hours/day. (I ski songs in French. Then I think about the next section of the journey, or the Alaska Mt. Wilderness Classic I will race this summer or new rivers to run.)

As the sun brings the day to dawn I am on the trail skiing with a 65 lb. load behind me. I stop to visit the historic Holmberg cabin where Ernie is buried. Having built my own log cabin on the Yukon River I am fascinated by log structures and this one appears to be + of a century old.

The Iditarod trail leads to the Kushkokwim and I follow wide bends as the Takotna mountains loom larger on the horizon. Last winter I skied from McGrath to Anvik with my partner Dick Griffith who is now skiing a section of the trail along the Bering Sea near Nome. It is a beautiful day to be skiing the frozen river.

When I arrive at McGrath, Mike Edison drives down to meet me. Mike paid me a compliment when he said, (You are one who lives his dreams.)

It was a dream coming to Alaska as a teenager and to fly into this wild country of Returning in 1972 and ’73 to jump was another dream. Skiing from the Pacific to the Yukon is the most recent one.

Early Monday morning the students of the Iditarod district are assembled in the gym and I talk about my journey from the Pacific at Seward across the Chugach Range and Alaska Range to the Yukon. Then Mike mentions that I was a smokejumper and the last day I taught I had all my students the jumper landing roll and had them stand in the open window of my classroom and jump out. (Who would like to learn the smokejumper landing roll?) He asked.

Then just before the welcoming prayer in Athapascan and the Pledge of Allegiance, students came forward, jumped from a chair onto a mat to do their jumper landing rolls. Thus began the Cultural Week for the Iditarod School District.