Editor’s Note: Elliot McAllister is one of 50 people currently competing in the 2005 Alaska Ultra, which follows the famed Iditarod route. Only instead of mushing dogs, contestants either ski, bike or run their way from Knick Lake (near Anchorage) to Nome, 1,100 miles of unadulterated hardship. Racing in his fourth Alaska Ultra, Elliot will ride his bike across the frozen tundra. He is sending us updates of the race whenever he steps in from the cold - so read on and stay tuned.

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Monday, March 21, 2005

Hey MountainZone:

My trip north toward Nome is going to stop here in McGrath. It’s 350 miles, and even though it’s only one-third of the distance to my goal, and the conditions were incredible this year, I’m satisfied. I’m satisfied with everything but having to stop here. I had an incredible run at it this year and hit two new PR’s (Personal Records); I spent over 42 hours awake and on the bike traveling around 100 miles in the first two days and I knocked off over two and a half days from my best time to McGrath.

But getting here over the last few checkpoints has been difficult to say the least. Unfortunately, my rear hub can’t be trusted and neither can my knees. I haven’t had any IB for nearly 24 hours. And I’m still limping around the checkpoint. I can walk down the street, but when I get on the bike, it’s like two ice-picks, one in each knee. It’s just under the patella so I’m sure it’s the start of tendonitis. Makes sense having carried that 40+ pound sled all this way. As I’m writing this, Bill Merchant has just returned from a walk downtown to get some ice-cream, checked out my bike, and viola, the rear hub magically works again! Amazing, (extremely under-enthusiastic emphasis on that amazing). I’m sure that about 20 miles up the trail though it will start to bind again. Since it’s about 18 to Takontna and another 170 to the nearest inhabited village and airport past that, the correct call is to can it here.

I always make a promise to myself before I try any of these nutty things that I’ll never be "that guy" that gets rescued. They way I was taught to have adventures was to make sure that you can talk about them...meaning come home...all digits intact. Mountaineering is making the best decision with the information available to you at the time. With the best information I have, it is really hard to say "Cool it until next time."

It’s never over, really. It’s just over until next year. It’s not even over that long, it’s only over until you start the planning for the next time. So for me I don’t think that it has ended. This year’s race was completely different than the last few times I’ve competed. Every other time I’ve raced, it has changed me, made me bolder, wiser, more sedated and less animated. This year’s race is the first time I can remember hearing people talk about "Wait ‘til next year!" "I’m changing this and I’m gonna tweak that..." literally within hours of finishing! And I’m one of them.

That’s just unreal. Usually no one even wants to think about it until four months after the race. Yet, here we are at Peter’s house sitting around the table, eating mounds of incredible food, and talking gear, trading tips and stories. My lesson from this year: if you want to go the speed of the walkers while using a bike, bring a sled!

I will be interviewing some of the lead racers...so stay tuned!

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