Pictures

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Racing with a team raises a host of new risks, among them being bad judgment resulting from (1) a false sense of security by having teammates around, and (2) everyone playing follow-the-leader and no one playing devil's advocate. I felt that Chris, Bobby and I did a good job in avoiding this situation: before any potentially dangerous section (such as this midnight crossing of glacier-fed and flooded Whistler Creek) we always gathered and made a group decision.

From a perch on the bank, Bobby proposes how we should cross the East Fork of the Little Delta River, which like so many rivers was flooding and unfordable.

Bobby tempers his Alpacka Scout, a 3-lb packraft that is essentially a glorified pool toy and that was inappropriate for the rivers that we were ferrying across and floating down. None of us expected the rivers to be so high and to present such challenges.

Gillam Glacier, the headwaters of the East Fork of the Little Delta River

The Buchanan Creek valley, where we hiked on hard, joyous tundra for the first time -- all the tundra east of here was sponga.

Bobby and Chris hiking up Big Grizzly Creek.

Edgar Creek Valley from the pass between Edgar and Big Grizzly. In the distance is the Yanert River Valley.

Chris floating the flooded Yanert River in his pool toy. This was a spectacular float -- the Class I-II river was cranking and the scenery was amazing.

Beer and pizza at 4:30 AM! At the finish we were greeted by a friend of Bobby and Chris' -- he had lots of goodies waiting for us. Other racers were less fortunate: the only thing awaiting them at the finish, which was an old gravel pit adjacent to the Parks Highway, was a sign-in sheet hanging from a post. Textbook AMWC: no prize money, no publicity, no start or finishing banners, no spectators..."the race that everybody loses," as Chris said.

By the way, we "won" the race in 3 days 17 hours and 56 minutes, which comes to an average of 48 miles per day. Of the 180 miles we were able to float about 35, leaving 145 miles of trekking -- that still comes to an average of about 40 miles per day.

 
The aftermath: Chris' feet after 180 miles across the Alaska Range.

We slept just 2.5 hours during the entire race, and the last substantial break we took (a 1-hour nap session in the East Fork of the Little Delta River) was about 90 miles and 46 hours earlier. This took a toll on our feet, which were sealed in our shoes and beat on that whole time. Thankfully my feet were only badly macerated -- no blisters, no cracks, and no bruising. Chris also had some bad tendonitis in his ankle and carried on only with the help of regular "Tylenol cocktails" that consisted of 800 mg of ibuprofen and 200 mg of Tylenol. This picture was taken 1.5 days after we finished.

The first- and second-place teams of the 2009 classic. Me, Chris Robertson, Forrest McCarthy, Roman Dial, and Bobby Schnell.

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