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Rookie’s Journey – Rainy Pass Lodge to Rohn
May 9, 2006
Particularly after the Happy River steps I wanted to run the Dalzell
Gorge the first time in the daylight. The run from Rainy Pass Lodge
to Rohn typically takes about 4 to 4 ½ hours. So even though
we had run for 5 hours to get to Rainy Pass, I planned to leave
at 3:30 PM, after 4 hours of rest. They were positive on rest from
Finger Lake and I would give them extra at Rohn.
Rainy Pass was an interesting checkpoint.
The checkpoint was a tent some distance from the lodge with a hole
cut in the ice for water. After feeding the dogs I walked up to the
lodge looking for something to eat. They had a lunch special for $10
for the mushers. It was buffet style and I don’t know what they
charged the non-mushers who were visiting. I did have a nice talk
with some of the fans and caught up with Lori Townsend, who scratched
as was waiting for transportation out. Lori had probably broken a
rib on the Happy River steps. It was peculiar talking to people here.
The early mushers through the steps said they were the best they had
seen in years, but all the later mushers I talked to (except Danny
Seavey) crashed hard there.
As I got ready to leave Rainy Pass Lodge (Puntilla Lake) I couldn’t
help but notice that the wind was picking up and when you looked up
the trail the entrance to Rainy Pass was covered in white. That meant
the winds were blowing snow around the pass and a storm was moving
in. I definitely wanted to get over the pass before the storm got
any worse, and that was a wise decision. I wanted my best leaders
for the brewing storm, and put Lycos and Bass up front. After talking
to Rudi, the race judge at Rainy, I pulled the hook at 4:00 PM, about
30 minutes after I had wanted to and headed for Rohn.
I don’t remember the early part of the trail out of Rainy Pass,
but we were quickly above timberline going up a big open U-shaped
(glacier carved) valley with very little shelter. As we drove into
the gathering storm, the winds increased blowing into our right front
and snow began to fall lightly at first them somewhat heaver. The
trail, which had been well defined, became covered in drifted snow
and the only way I could find it was to follow the markers. Unfortunately
some of the markers, which initially were pretty dense, had been knocked
down (unintentionally) be previous teams. As the storm intensified,
more and more often I couldn’t see the next marker as I left
the last one. I swore that if two minutes went by and I couldn’t
see a marker that I would stop and find the trail before we continued
any further. I had a flashing light to attach to the handlebars to
make it easier to return to the sled after I’d found the trail.
There are lots of stories about mushers in storms that managed to
find the trail on foot, but couldn’t find their dog team on
the way back. Bass and Lycos stepped up to the plate with a self confidence
that surprised me and took off across the frequently trackless wilderness.
Sure enough within 30 seconds I’d see the next marker, thank
God for small favors, and start the hunt for the marker after that.
This was a very intense time for me. I was concentrating hard on the
trail and on doing things right because I knew with a single mistake
we could go from being ok to being in serious trouble. But I had faith
in Bass and Lycos, and faith that God was still helping us. So while
I concentrated hard on doing things right, I wasn’t worried
about getting lost, just very cautious. As a side note, in the early
days when the race went through the next pass up the trail, Ptarmigan
Pass. Norman Vaughn lost his way and was lost for several days in
this general area.
After doing very well for some time, Bass and Lycos hesitated for
just a second before leaving a trail stake. Seeing what I thought
was a lack of confidence on their part I stopped the team immediately.
Sure enough they had lost the trail. I quickly found the next stake,
and called them “haw” to the proper trail. Now taking
a directional command when you can’t see the trail in front
of you is an advanced leader skill that I wasn’t sure these
guys possessed, but off they went and made me very proud. As soon
as they crossed the trail they recognized it and off we went with
confidence once more.
As we got up into the pass I saw a flock of small black objects fly
up into the storm. I couldn’t believe that birds that small
could fly in these winds, running about 35 to 40 mph at this time.
Then I saw faint white outlines to the black objects through the snow
and realized that we had disturbed a flock of Ptarmigan and the black
was the black marks on the underside of their tail feathers when they
were in winter coat.
Every now and then we would pass through some short dense brush and
that would break the wind and give us some relief, but within a couple
of minutes we were back into the storm. We continued like this for
close to two hours when I saw the opening to Rainy Pass. As we turned
right into the Pass the wind was initially from our left rear. Then
it started to swirl and come from different directions. The initial
descent was down open windswept slopes where the trail was hard to
find. But trusting in God, the three of us (Bass, Lycos, and myself)
working together always managed to find enough markers to follow the
right way down the slope. I remembered very clearly that this was
where the volunteer from McGrath was buried by and avalanche and perished.
I never saw the spot, but said a prayer for his soul.
As we got further into the pass and started into the Gorge the valley
narrowed and blocked most of the wind. The trail actually became quite
pleasant. I could see where in other years and different snow conditions
this could be a real bear as we crossed over snow/ ice bridges that
this year were still intact and wound down steep hills with plenty
of snow for the brakes to control the team. The trail would quickly
wrap around or through copses of increasingly larger trees, but always
with the snow to control the ride. Unlike the steps, there were no
trenches here to trip us up and roll the sled.
This was developing into a quick
fast almost fun run when the left, uphill, runner caught the soft
snow on the side of the trail as we entered a steep downhill run.
The sled veered left and ran level straight for a large tree while
the dogs proceeded down the hill. I braced myself for the impact of
a head on collision when the sled jerked to a stop. As I got off the
sled I noticed that it had stopped ¼ inch short of the tree.
I wondered why and saw that one snowhook had fallen off the sled unnoticed
and caught just before impact. God was truly watching over us! We
were about 18 inches above the trail and I carefully set the second
hook in the trail before bringing the sled down to trail level. A
quick “Thank You God” and we were on our way again. After
about 2 hours we rolled out of the Dalzell Gorge and onto the Tatina
River, about 3 miles from the Rohn Checkpoint.
At this point we were back into the wind, with the river being windswept
and surviving markers sparse. It had been completely dark for some
time, but I knew the trail went down the river and soon found a marker.
Off we went for about a mile when Bass, Lycos, and I lost the trail
completely. Stopping the team on the windswept ice I scanned the area
for a reflective marker. Bingo – I could barely see the marker
in the distance on the shore leading us off the river and up to the
runway that leads to the checkpoint. I called the “haw”
but Bass and Lycos couldn’t see the logic in the command and
refused. Setting the snowhooks in the ice the best I could I prayed
the team wouldn’t surge and pull them leaving me here alone,
walked up to Bass and Lycos and led them to the trail. They still
couldn’t see it and as soon as I got back to the sled and pulled
the hook they headed back down the river. Luckily I had stopped before
the sled entered the turn and I set the hooks to the best of my ability,
said my prayer again, walked up to Bass and Lycos and brought them
back to the trail. This time we were close enough that they could
see the trail as it left the bank (there was no indication on the
frozen river) and off we went, arriving in Rohn at 9:14 PM.
This was like old home week. I had worked Rohn years earlier as a
communications guy and knew the checker and race judge. Andi Anderson,
the race judge, immediately asked for a trail report to call back
to Rudi at the Rainy Pass checkpoint. Rohn sits in a small bowl where
the Tatina joins the South Fork of the Kuskoquim. They knew the wind
was blowing, but had no way of knowing what conditions were like up
on the Pass until a musher came through and told them. I found out
later that ½ hour after I left Rainy Pass, Iditarod decided,
based on reports of the gathering storm from mushers who arrived ahead
of me, that no one should travel over the pass alone. Travel in groups
of two or more only. Then based on my report Iditarod decided that
no one should travel over the pass until daylight. Andi came back
after talking to Rudi at Rainy Pass checkpoint and told me that they
were worried about me. He said that I had been tossed into the deep
end by the storm and had acquitted myself very well. I’m still
proud of that compliment.
Rohn sits in a forest of large evergreens that pretty much shelter
it from the winds, so the dogs got a good rest. A short walk brings
you to the South Fork of the Kuskoquim River where fast, shallow current
keep a small pool open so you can get fresh water. This is some of
the best tasting water of the entire trail. There is only one small
cabin at Rohn, but the advantage of being so far back is without a
crowd there is always floor space and Jasper Bond, the “mayor
of Rohn” will help you hang you wet gear so that it dries by
morning. This is the first place we’ve had that was warm enough
to dry gear and I greatly appreciated it. I had intended to leave
Rohn after 8 hours, but wound up staying until daylight because I
just couldn’t get moving. This sounds bad, but was very fortuitous
and another example of God taking care of me.
Keep ‘em Northbound
Eric
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