7AM—don’t forget Daylight Saving Time—Burmeister, Seavey the Elder make statement
My collegues, including Sebastian now at his computer analyzing the race, Al and Paul at their station in Unalakleet Comms, race Judge Warren, and a pool of reserve specialists, are commenting on the developments over the night.
After we REMEMBER to compute an hour disappeared with SpringAhead daylight saving time, we can see that our lead mushers Aaron Burmeister and Mitch Seavey are 2O miles out of Unk. Local intel assures us that they are moving slowly through accumulated drifts and constant winds of 20 to 30 (confirmed by our tracker information). Generally, the run from Kaltag to Unk is about 10 hours. However, the teams worked hard yesterday coming into kaltag, and that in combination with the wind and drifts, its logical to bump the arrival time of leaders to 10 am. That would be 13 hours on the portage from Kaltag to Unk.
The portage to Unk not only transports the mushers from the Yukon to the Bering Sea, it also is a cultural shift in language and customs from Athabascan to Eskimo. In fact, the portage trail is an ancient trading trail, an interface between the coast and the Interior where goods could be exchanged.
My crew is surprised that Jake Berkowitz is not more assertive and making a statement to the front with Aaron and Mitch. Jake has fifteen dogs and we think he could have the strongest team. They ate like piranhas in kaltag and were alert on their beds. He appears to be resting at the Old Woman Cabin with Aliy Zirkle, martin Buser, and Joar, while Mitch and Aaron are breaking snow drifts almost 20 miles up the trail. Joar, incidentally, still demands plenty of attention as he and team have not weakened.
Further back in the pack, check out Jeff King and Dallas Seavey. I mention them because they operate from the school of mushing that believes in marshaling all their strength through the race and then exploding in the last third of the race. Their strategy is like the bicycle guys in the velodrome that pace around and around the track and thenbreak away and sprint to the finish. The race is made in five seconds. They have bumped up to the front and could make a move. Recall that Dallas used this same strategy last year when he won. We really never saw him as a player until he arrived at Unalakleet.
ALIY is a conundrum today. We looked at her analytics at the tracker and cannot understand her rest schedule. We can only conclude that she feels her dogs lost spark on the terrible trail into kaltag and decided to recharge their batteries with extra rest. Stopped now at Old Woman cabin at mile 666, her fans are betting she will sling shot up to the leaders with a rested team and more speed. She has had one of the fastest teams on the trail. Some observers said she was very tired in Kaltag, a problem she had last year in battling Dallas Seavey. Still, she is always imperturbable and perpetually optimistic.
Final Thoughts
The village of Unalakleet is known for its hospitality. A group of locals is busy in the checkpoint cooking breakfast for the out of town volunteers. This village has an astoundingly well educated population and a school system that sends students outside of the village, yet many return to contribute to the community. Additionally, it is an abundant paradise with the ocean providing hunting and fishing, and vast areas available for caribou, moose, and trapping. The Unalakleet River, it’s delta fanning out just behind the village, is known as one of the world’s best sport fishing rivers. The wind is a constant consideration, a part of decision making in hunting and fishing. Locals shrug their shoulders when asked about the wind, “it always blows in Unalakleet!” and have the attitude that the wind, when the wind is right, is their best friend. The sea ice, which is normally stacked on the west side of the village has been blown out to sea. This is a problem because this is the crabbing season. The preferred way to catch them is to go out on the ice, sometimes for miles, and drop crab pots in the leads. I talked to Midi, my local expert helping with a big feed here in the checkpoint , who tells me they are catching the Red King Crab, a smaller crab than seen further north up the coast, but sweeter.
Answering my question comically, he said, “How do we catch them with no ice? we catch them in water,” But, then he gave me a break after the chuckles subsided and explained that some people are putting out traps with boats. Can you imagine? Gusts that could blow a boat far off shore, huge ice pans that could crush a boat moving in and out from the coast, temperatures that could drop below zero? But what about the ice blowing back in and taking the traps and buoys away. “We are watching the wind, we know when to move.” A finely tuned appreciation of the wind is required to live successfully in this region.
For mushers, the feeling of the wind, a sense that you can actually smell the ocean, and even the texture of the snow suggests a harsh region. The snow is like detergent constantly blown about, fine enough that it seeps through the smallest openings in the sled bag and accumulates rapidly. Is it the salt in the air that makes the difference? One has the feeling that the ground storm of blowing spindrift, a powder of snow different than crystals of the Yukon, could have originated hundreds of miles away.
