Guest Post: 2013 ITI Story, Part III

Good friend and fellow Fairbanks endurance cyclist Kevin Breitenbach shared some incredible memories from last year's Iditarod Trail Invitational on his Facebook page and I told him they needed to be shared elsewhere, in a searchable & linkable place on the interwebs, so they were not lost forever.

I am sharing his unedited, raw and sleep-deprived memories, one per day for three days, matching the time frame of the race and when he will approximately be in the places where the stories happened. I wish all the racers warm appendages, clear minds, a happy stomach, and a good trail. And for 'K-Bear,' go get 'em, buddy!

2013 ITI Day Three:

"Might as well do a write up of the finish from last year before this year's finish makes it a bit less relevant. Disclaimer....I was fucking exhausted and spent much of the previous day trying my best to capture reality and avoid hallucinating, so the accuracy of these events could be lost to time anyway...

'Get up man'... 'Huh? What the fuck? Where am I?'
I opened my eyes to see I was lying in a bunk bed. Where the hell am I? Shit! I was in Nikolai at the Petruska's house. This is a race and this was the second time they tried to wake me up.

It was a nightmare, I over slept. Well, I slept period. Something I knew was a mistake an hour and a half earlier before I fell asleep. The group of 5 of us had arrived in Nikolai at around 11:30 pm after riding 14 hours from Rohn 90 miles back up trail towards the mountains. The last 12 miles of that ride took us 4 hours, a wind had come out of nowhere and blasted us in the face. It took a toll on all of us, we spent the time alternately imagining things that were not there at all. John Lackey was asking if we take 'that road' out of the village...there was no road or village in the middle of the swamp. Several of us were convinced that Greg Matyas (owner of Fatback) was riding with us. I was impressed by the physical prowess of the 3 women that had magically joined our group. This after I spent much of the day trying to convince Oatley that he and I had been on this trail together often in the past. 'I have been on this trail often in the past... you have not' he told me. Turns out he was right. But back to the story at hand.

When we got to Nikolai Tim's feet were killing him. He hadn't let his boots dry out in Rohn and now he was in quite a bit of pain with his boots freezing up. He was frantic to find the Petruska's house. Jeff and Jay calmly lead us through the sleepy village and past the runway. Inside we were met with a great meal of pasta bread and coke. While we sat at the kitchen table contemplating what to do Oatley calmly passed out behind the table and Jay calmly put his boots and jacket back on to head out on the trail. I thought those were both mistakes. I needed rest but not much. I couldn't see Jay going any faster than the 4 mph that we were sustaining just 45 min. ago. I remember John saying 'I could use an hour or two.' I said I could use about 15 minutes and Tim suggested a moderate 45 min rest. Group think had taken me over and I agreed.

I hope this doesn't come off as arrogant but that was dumb. I should have known myself better. I knew I could win. I really felt pretty good. But in my defense I was in the middle of Alaska 50 miles up river from the finish in Mcgrath with no knowledge of the trail beyond me (that might be why it's tough for a rookie to ever win this race). I didn't want to leave with Jay on no rest. But I should have known I can just follow his tracks until I caught him...

Lackey and I got up and we helped convince Oatley to get up too. Turns out Tim had woke up on time 45 minutes ago and was long gone. It's the only real 1.5 hours of sleep I had in the past three days. We got out the door quickly, I was so freakin' angry with myself, rolling out of town slowly and warming up our stiff bodies. I wanted to just ride fucking angry. We got on the river and the trail was hard as a rock. All three of us stopped to put more air pressure in our tires. Jeff asked me 'are you going to ride this hard the whole time?' 'I'm going to try' I told him... 'Well go man, if you keep this pace up you'll win.'

We were at least 2 hours behind Jay and probably an hour behind Tim. Following Jays tracks, they were all over the place. You could tell he was battling the sleep monster as he calls it. Tim's were straight and strong. I took off from the guys, my tire set up was a huge strength on the River compared to what they were rolling with. I was waiting for this advantage for a couple days now. My gps kept a steady reading of 12 mph. That was my goal. If I could do that I'll have a chance.

I rode across open swamps under a nearly full moon. I rode so fucking mad for a few hours. I over heated at one point and took off everything but my base layer, but quickly realized it was -20 out when I totally froze moments later. I was still out of it and my decision making skills were poor at best. I started getting sleepy again, maybe a bit depressed and my feet were cold. I just want the sun to rise, i looked over my shoulder a lot hoping to see the eastern sky brighten. '5am, 6 am, 7am where the hell is the light!!!' I thought. Then I realized, we're now 300 miles west of where we started. The sun wont rise for a while.

In this time Jay's tracks had straightened and Tim had trouble with his feet. He had to get off and run... you could tell he ran, his strides were huge. As the sun finally brightened the sky their bike tracks had wolf tracks over them. I knew they were just off the river spying on us it was eery. I imagined they heard me pedaling just around the bend and they'd hopped off the trail just to go back and smell my sent after I left.

On that flat stretch of trail to the finish there's a radio tower visible almost the entire time. It looks so close just above the tree line. It wasn't until the sun lit up the horizon that I saw it was actually atop a mountain probably 5o miles away from when I first saw it. What a mind fuck that was. I looked back over my shoulder again... a headlamp back up river a mile or so. I tried to go faster. Who was it, Jeff, John, jason Buffington, Pete Basinger? I was convinced it could be anyone.

I'm sure my legs were dead, but my bike was skipping in it's highest gear too. I could sit and spin at 7-8 mph but I couldn't get out of the saddle and crank out speed. My smallest ring just wouldn't hold my chain. As it got brighter the biker got closer. I tried to put more air in my tires again, but my hands wouldn't work and I just let more air out. FAIL! I stopped again and actually got the pump to work. but it was too late.

With about 8 miles left the trail leaves the river to head into Mcgrath. I stopped and ate some food, I couldn't stand being chased anymore. It was Oatley, he came up and told me 'You're doing awesome!' (or something like that). I think I gave him a hug and had him lead us into town. I settled behind him just like I had for the last few days and just like I had for so many training rides throughout the last couple of years. It was so familiar and surreal that after 68 hours of riding we were still riding together. I've never matched paces with someone as much as I do with Jeff. (Don't let anyone know but I'm pretty sure I openly cried a bit while we rode together.) I couldn't imagine a more fitting way to finish. Jeff has always been there to help me become a stronger smarter rider, it's a friendship I really value, and I felt pretty fortunate to finish with such a guy.

We hauled ass into town, and discussed how we're just chickens with our heads cut off. I was pretty sure if I was dead, lying in a grave my legs would still be moving. We never caught Tim or Jay. (Tim finished about 15 min ahead, and Jay another 40 minutes ahead of that, all of us breaking the previous record by around 10 hours.)

Too much to remember and so much I'm sure is forgotten from last year. But that race was special and only made better by the people I got a chance to race with. Super lame but I remember thinking its not the I-ditarod, it was the We-ditarod last year. I'm still convinced none of us could hold that pace without the help of the other 4 guys. That's a record that will be tough to match ever.

My time 2 day 20 hours and 7 minutes."

Photo from www.iditarodtrailinvitational.com

Photo from www.iditarodtrailinvitational.com

Follow the racers on the ITI website

Guest Post: 2013 ITI Story, Part II

Good friend and fellow Fairbanks endurance cyclist Kevin Breitenbach shared some incredible memories from last year's Iditarod Trail Invitational on his Facebook page and I told him they needed to be shared elsewhere, in a searchable & linkable place on the interwebs, so they were not lost forever.

I am sharing his unedited, raw and sleep-deprived memories, one per day for three days, matching the time frame of the race and when he will approximately be in the places where the stories happened. I wish all the racers warm appendages, clear minds, a happy stomach, and a good trail. And for 'K-Bear,' go get 'em, buddy!

2013 ITI Day Two:

"It had to be over 100 degrees in the cabin. My arms were plastered against a window coated in ice trying to cool off. I couldn't sleep, we were all resting at the Rainy Pass lodge. 35 hours and 175 miles into the race i just couldn't sleep.

It had been 42 hours since I woke up in Anchorage, now we were just 18 miles from the crest of the Alaska range. At around 1 am, I looked over and Jeff Oatley wasn't sleeping either. 'Should we ride?' he asked. I looked around the room. Tim Bernston, John Lackey and Jay Petervary were all lying down. I whispered back confidently 'Yeah lets roll.'

It may sound lame but I look back on that as a defining moment in my life. There was no question in my mind that was the best idea. Should we sleep no, should we let our gear dry out more no, should we just let ourselves rest no. Should we leave in the middle of the night to push ourselves over the Alaska Range on no sleep about 200 miles from any road...yep. That wasn't a tough decision, it was easy. I realized then I didn't have to live my life trying to prove I was tougher than I looked. I was either tough or delusional...perhaps both.

We quietly got our things together. I looked over at Jay, he was relaxed with his arms crossed and knees elevated to minimize the swelling that we all were experiencing. He had one eye open keeping track of us like the seasoned racer that he is. When we were about to leave Jason Buffington staggered into the cabin exhausted but still cheery and smiling (nothing can get him down, maybe the most positive person I've ever rode with). We suggested he get some rest and lie down on the floor in the back room to keep cool.

Jeff, Tim, John and I all left under a full moon and clear skies and a world of white mountain peaks. We headed up Ptarmigan valley. My Camelback had leaked inside my jacket and kinda soaked my base layer. I got cold and couldn't recover my heat. I told the guys I'd catch up. Oatley got on my case that I needed to eat more. 'You shouldn't be cold right now, it's too warm out to layer up more.' I almost listened but I knew I was a small person, I have very little reserves. Jeff out weighs me by probably 40 lbs. Once my small furnace inside me goes out I need more. I sweat very little. And the guys were never hesitant to give me crap about it. I think Jay called me prepubescent the the night before.

While I layered up I looked back down valley and I could see a headlamp a few miles back. It was Jay, he was on it. Trailing just behind us like he did often over the 3 days. It was becoming a real race. I often felt like we were just a herd of caribou and I was the weak one often falling behind. One of these times a wolf was just gonna pick me off. (Honestly, that's a bit of an analogy, but when I saw fresh wolf tracks I was kinda scared that's how they saw me).

We headed up valley the trail was shockingly good. The guys were all in good spirits but I was fucking tired. The slope eventually got too steep and we pushed. I remember pushing across the small lake near the pass and I was having a hard time staying upright. I thought I was just going to pass out. I held my head low but I pulled out of it. Jeff, John and Tim waited just ahead and we all crested the pass together.

A short rest on top and the early morning sun touched the peaks above us. The moon shone from the south. It took just 4 hours or so and we headed down through the Dalzell Gorge as the day brightened I hardly remember any of that. Around 9 am 8 hours after we left Puntilla Lake we arrived at Rohn, rested no more than an hour and pushed on for the 90 miles to Nikolai again on no sleep.

The race starts this Sunday. I have a feeling I'll have a lot of different stories from this year. and I cant wait to see how it pans out"

- Kevin Breitenbach

Photo by Tim Bernston

Photo by Tim Bernston

Follow the racers on the ITI website

Guest Post: 2013 ITI Story, Part I

Good friend and fellow Fairbanks endurance cyclist Kevin Breitenbach shared some incredible memories from last year's Iditarod Trail Invitational on his Facebook page and I told him they needed to be shared elsewhere, in a searchable & linkable place on the interwebs, so they were not lost forever.

I will share his unedited, raw and sleep-deprived memories, one per day for three days, matching the time frame of the race and when he will approximately be in the places where the stories happened. I wish all the racers warm appendages, clear minds, a happy stomach, and a good trail. And for 'K-Bear,' go get 'em, buddy!

2013 ITI Day One:

"First day of the Iditarod Trail Invitational last year it mostly snowed, we pushed across Flathorn Lake and a group of us searched for a solid trail in a dying light through the Dismal Swamp.

By nightfall we had reached the Susitna and soon the confluence with the Yentna. We took a quick break, I ate a 2 day old piece of pizza from the pre party at Speedway cycles. We headed up the Yentna River and the snow stayed steady. We had only gone maybe 50 miles or so but it was just a churn. A few Junior iditarod teams passed us going down river. Craig Medred payed us one last visit on his snow machine. I was starting to think it was going to be a long slow night of riding and pushing a bike.

If it would just stop fucking snowing. I looked over my shoulder down river and there it was, through the clouds, the full moon. It slowly cleared off we passed through the Yentna Station checkpoint around 11 pm. Very little snow had fallen this far north. The river was smooth and fast, riding was easy and the sky was bright with stars, northern lights and the full moon.

Around 1 am I turned off my headlamp and traveled by moonlight. The full landscape was illuminated and the sky was huge. I cast an enormous shadow with the moon to my back. Passing by open leads in the ice moist air settled and hoar frost covered me and my bike. Mind Blown...

Then rode bikes for another 56 hours or something like that and stuff happened then too.

Started my drop bags tonight and got chills when I thought of that."

- Kevin Breitenbach

Photo by Tim Bernston

Photo by Tim Bernston

Follow the racers on the ITI website