Ugly Feet

Of the racers that started the Alaska Mountain Wilderness Classic, more than half scratched. And the ones that finished sure had ugly feet! Big blisters, swollen ankles, and black toenails ugly. One guy says that his toenails fall off every year, and grow back just in time for the following years race, where they fall off all over again.

Traversing over mountains, through thick, bear infested brush and swamplands, and running wild rivers, it took the winning guys just under five days to reach Central, after which they collapsed into beds and sleeping bags. By evening, everyone was up and enjoying a beer around the fire on the second longest day of the year. The fire wasn't for the cold, it was to keep at bay the swarms of buzzing, biting mosquitoes that thickly populate the interior. The sun had barely set, and without any real darkness, was rising again when another racer came in at 4:00 AM. After about five and a half days on the go, with 7 hours total of sleep, he was hallucinating wildly. Trees became dancing Tinkerbells, witches on broomsticks, Tin men, potato heads, and prostitutes, rocks became princess jewelry, scrimshaw, and Mosaic tile work, and coals in the fire were squirrels wearing Russian hats.

My grandfather, at 80 years old, was doing the race under the newly created masters division, which basically means that if you are that old and still doing the AMWC (he has participated in over 20 of the races) you don't have to follow the same rules as the other guys! So he and his friend Jerry floated the whole thing, down the 40 mile and the Yukon rivers. They had to be alert on the 40 mile, as there were several rapids and even a few pour offs that needed to be portaged. Then, when they hit the Yukon, they pulled out into the middle of the smooth flowing river and slept! By this time, after having to be alert in a tiny, leaky, five pound rubber raft for 12 hours a day, they needed the sleep.

It will be my grandfathers last wilderness race, and running most of it in the pack raft that he introduced to the race over 25 years ago is a fitting end. That year, no one had heard of these rafts and had planned on swimming the big rivers. One person had almost drowned trying when this old white haired man came up, dropped his pack, pulled out his hidden rubber raft, duck taped some plastic paddles to what looked like a walking stick, put on a viking hat, and announced "old age and treachery overcome youth and skill any time!"

Ugly Feet!



More Ugly Feet!



Rolling mountains in the interior.



Sitting around the fire at 2:21 AM. This is about as dark as it got.



One of the racers comes in at 3:39 AM. Notice the sunrise just hitting the treetops.

Mountain races

My uncle, at 50 years old, placed 4th overall in the Bird Ridge Mountain Run today. This race covers only three miles, but 3400 feet of brutally steep elevation gain. The Males Division winning time was just over 40 minutes to climb the peak. Barney clocked in at just over 42 minutes, and set a new time record for the 50 to 60 year old age group. Tim and I made it only half way up in about 50 minutes, before we moved to the side of the trail to make room for the runners who would soon be coming up. Soon, they appeared, steaming up the hill, breathing heavily, fine tuned bodies working, pain showing in their faces.

Meanwhile, while I was cheering Barney on, my grandfather, at 80 years old, started the Alaska Mountain Wilderness Classic today, a race crossing through 180 miles of Alaskan wilderness between two small towns; this years route goes from Chicken to Central. There are no established trails through this rugged wilderness and the rules are simple: Get from point A to point B, across mountain ranges, swamps, and big rivers, completely unsupported and self-sufficient, no gear drops, no roads, no checkpoints, and practicing minimum impact travel. The disclosure form is equally simple and a bit humorous. It reads:

"As usual, the Alaska Mountain Wilderness Classic has no money, no assets, and no insurance. The AMWC is merely suggesting an event location."

The location of the race changes every three years, ranging from 150 to 200 miles cross-country. Many of the years have seen winners making it to the finish in two days or less by barely sleeping and eating mostly butter. Yuk! In a few days, I will head to Central to see the racers into the finish.

I prefer Barney’s type of race, lots of pain over a short time period, rather then lots of pain over a long time period. That is, if you don't count all the training to be done before hand! Next year, I would like to run the Bird Ridge race, and a few other mountain runs, which means getting back in shape and starting to train by running up mountains. I'll let you know how it goes!

Barney, working hard to get to the top





What a view. Most of the racers were probably working too hard to notice it, though!



Meanwhile, here is the Alaska Mountain Wilderness Classic Route shown in the next two photos.



Choose any way you want to get from point A to point B (as long as it does not involve roads or motorized transport)



My grandfather and his race partner this year, Jerry Dixon