Feb 12, 2011

Article from Star trib

135 miles: Do or die
Trekking the equivalent of St. Paul to Iowa while dragging a sled behind you on 30-below nights might seem a sadistic death sentence to most.

By CURT BROWN, Star Tribune

Last update: February 9, 2011 - 7:43 AM
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MORE ARROWHEAD 135 INFO: Results and other information can be found at www.arrowheadultra.com/index.php
INTERNATIONAL FALLS, MINN. -- Some of us tolerate winter. Others embrace it. Then there's this bunch.

The first frosty streak of daylight cuts through the blackness at 6:45 a.m. as the 58 bikers, 54 runners and six skiers wait for the signal that it's time for them to begin braving death.

For the next three days, they will haul themselves and their survival gear 135 miles through Minnesota's North Woods -- from International Falls to Tower -- in the most mind- and toe-numbing endurance race in the lower 48 states.

Trekking the equivalent of St. Paul to Iowa while dragging a sled behind you on 30-below nights might seem a sadistic death sentence to most. Relocate the quest to Minnesota's most remote wilderness in the midst of a bitter winter -- with rescue an iffy proposition -- and you've got a race that's irresistible to some.

"There a lot of people who can't do this kind of race, and a lot of people who would never want to," says Ken Zylstra, 48, of Prior Lake. "Maybe that's why we do it."

Along the way, one competitor will marvel at wolves that sprint out of the forest and eye her as she pedals the Arrowhead Trail. Zylstra will get sidetracked fetching help for a hypothermic competitor shivering in a trail-side sleeping bag. And a sleep-deprived, hallucinating runner from Duluth will see the snow-dusted balsam and spruce branches begin to resemble skeletons by the morning of his third day.

"These are brave, brave souls," Janine Burtness, secretary for the local Chamber of Commerce says just before the start Monday. "My car says it's 20-below, and it's just unbelievable what these folks are about to endure."

'Release the hounds'

The night before the start, jittery racers sit at folding tables in the community center here before easing into a spaghetti dinner.

In one corner, there's Dick and Laurie Woodbury from White Bear Lake, the race deans. He's 66, served in Vietnam and sells life insurance. She's 55 and works as a risk manager. They met at a triathlon clinic 25 years ago and have completed all 14 Ironman triathlons they've entered. By comparison, they've finished two of their five Arrowhead 135s.

"Everyone can do an Ironman," Dick says. "This race lets you find out what's inside you, and there's a great common bond with all the others seeking this kind of challenge."

Tom Fisher, a 17-year-old from Grand Forks, cajoled race director Dave Pramann into bending the minimum-age cutoff on the condition that his neighbor, 35-year-old Andy Magness, chaperone him through the woods. At another table sits first-timer Jennifer Flynn, a plant pathology lab assistant from Coon Rapids. Privately, Pramann put her odds of finishing at one in 10. More than half the field will give up before finishing.

Apropos for such an unusual race, the Arrowhead 135 begins with a signature shout.

Pramann, who is both the race director and its record holder, fires a starter's pistol and hollers: "Release the hounds."

Crunch-crunch-crunch sounds come in response, bike tires, runners' boots and skiers' edges biting into the snow.

At the 135-mile Bad Water ultra marathon in Death Valley -- the 123-degree yang to this race's frozen yin -- racers need a support crew. At the Arrowhead, they must be self-sustaining with sleeping bags, stoves, food and an emergency whistle. Help is prohibited except at three checkpoints spaced roughly every 35 miles -- the Gateway general store, Melgeorge's Resort and the Crescent Bar and Grill.

After 20 miles, Tom Fisher is a wreck.

"My legs were cramping terribly," Fisher says. "I was super fatigued and surprised how hard and long this was, wishing that first store was around every corner so I could quit."

Phil and Ellen Hart say two people might visit their Gateway store on Lake Kabetogama on a normal day. Now, it's packed with racers devouring the 12 pots of soup that Ellen's cooking. Fisher downs three bowls of macaroni beef and feels better. Magness, his chaperone, is disqualified with two flat tires but persuades race officials to let him change out a tire and unofficially ride along with Fisher the next 90 miles.

Buck naked at Mile 47

John Logar, a West Virginia doctor, leaves the store on a too-fast pace. Sweating can kill a racer in this cold, the body's core temperature plummeting in wet clothes.

At 8 p.m., under a moonless 30-below sky, Logar stops suddenly at Mile 47.

"I used every ounce of my energy and made the mistake of getting wet," he says. "I was knocked down as low as I could go and wanted to quit when I realized I couldn't warm up."

Recognizing his peril, he strips off his sweat-drenched clothes and stands naked under the watching stars. Rummaging up some dry clothes, he jogs on.

"I had to do that or die," he says.

At Melgeorge's Resort, a converted logging camp on Elephant Lake north of Orr, racers pedal and stomp over the frozen ice to the Cedar Cabin midpoint check-in, where they nap, eat grilled cheese sandwiches and sip wild rice soup.

Zylstra is a mile away from the lake when he sees a racer flailing in his sleeping bag, trying to kick snow off. He looks in and finds a shivering man, clearly in distress. Zylstra pedals on and finds a crew of volunteer snowmobilers. They speed to the spot Zylstra described, and Lance Russell is rescued from frostbite, or worse.

The Woodburys pedal into Melgeorges just after midnight, grab some sleep, then take off at 8:30 a.m. The hills that come next take a punishing toll. They decide to quit.

"I was dehydrated," Laurie says. "And we couldn't get warm."

No shame there: Nineteen of the 58 bikers, two-thirds of the 54 runners and all six of the skiers will drop out.

"Maybe next year we'll race on the beach in Florida," Laurie adds.

As the Woodburys give in, Zylstra rides off. He soon loses the trail, circles back and finds a sign saying Melgeorge's is 2 miles ahead.

"It was like a punch in the gut," he says. "But we rode on. Sometimes we'd stop and turn off our lights and look up and it seemed like you could throw a snowball and hit the stars."

'135 miles of pain'

At Mile 87, Flynn, the first-timer, comes riding between the pines, smiling. "There's no bad weather," she says. "Just bad gear."

The last of the countless mounds she pushes her bike up is called Wakemup Hill at Mile 113. Flynn thinks of turning off her head lamp to enjoy the stars and the faint green of the Northern Lights. "But I would have to take off my gloves to work the buttons."

At 30-below, it's not worth it. But Flynn is getting gutsy about making time as she nears the finish.

"I started taking the downhills full gale with enough force to make it up the next hill," she says. "It most have been an impressive maneuver because a couple snowmobilers came by and gave me a thumb's up."

At Mile 122, Duluth nurse Jeremy Kershaw is struggling with sleep-deprived visions of skeletons in trees when he finds a stray water bottle and then a racer acting delirious and childlike, unable to button his clothes. He warms up the man's cell phone and calls for a snowmobile rescue.

"One slip out here in the 30-below and you enter what we call the pain cave of hypothermia," Kershaw says.

One by one, the 57 finishers arrive, walk into a hotel hospitality room and pose for snapshots with little paperweight-sized trophies showcasing an arrowhead. After 50 hours and six minutes, Flynn pedals into the Fortune Bay Casino in Tower -- the last of the 39 bikers and one of only three women out of 12 who started out to complete the Arrowhead 135.

More than 40 hours elapse between the time Alaskan Jeff Oatley defends his title in 15 hours and 50 minutes and the last walker, Barb Owen, completes the race in 57 hours and 38 minutes. In between, Fisher rides in, branding the race as "135 miles of pain."

Heather Best, Oatley's wife from Fairbanks, smashes the women's record by more than six hours. Besides the trophy, she takes home the wolf encounter that would only happen on the Arrowhead 135.

"It was 9 at night and I was riding alone when I saw the first pair of eyes running full speed right at me," she says. "Then I saw a bigger set of eyes and a huge gray wolf goes by, just hauling ass. At first, I was thinking it was sweet. Then I was like, 'Oh my God, how many more are going to come out of the woods?'"

Curt Brown 613-673-4767

Feb 4, 2011

2011 Arrowhead 135

ARROWHEAD 135 Jan 31 to Feb 2 2011
The day started at -9 degrees and cloudy and it was reported that the temp got down to -14 just after sunrise. A big crowd at the start in town. Bikes went out first with the skiers and runners a minute later. The first 18 miles are very flat so the miles go by pretty easily, was able to run most of the way to the Hwy 53 crossing at mile 18. I was the first one on foot to cross at 11:50 AM. The next 17 miles start getting a little hilly but not bad. I walked most of the way except for running the down hills. Ate some on the trail as I walked. About 2 miles from Gateway John Storkamp (another walker and eventual winner) caught me and we talked for a while. Mike Stattleman (on skies) had caught me about 5 miles earlier. Got to Gateway checkpoint (mile 35) at 3:45PM and stayed for 1:15. Was longer than I wanted to stay but was trying to get my gear to dry. I had but on shoe covers over my Gore-Tex trail shoes at the start and at the checkpoint noticed my feet were soaking wet. I was able to change socks but already was starting to get some blisters. I had some warm food to eat and then back out onto the trail. The next miles the hills get a little steeper and more frequent but still not bad. I was really going thru headlamp batteries, I didn’t know if my light was bad or if it was the cold but a set of batteries was only lasting 2 1/2 or 3 hours and I was expecting them to last 5 or 6 hours and had brought enough batteries accordingly. At this rate I wasn’t going to have enough batteries. I reached the Black duck shelter at mile 58 at midnight. They had a fire going so I warmed up at the fire for a little bit than crawled into the bivy and slept till about 4AM. I had considered going on to Mel georges which I did the first year I did the race,(another 4 hours if able to maintain pace.) but for me I felt it would wear me out so much It would put me in the position where I might not be able to continue beyond that point. Was fairly warm in the sleeping bag but again I had picked rough ground to lie on and my hips were uncomfortable. I need a better sleeping pad. I also have to remember to NOT double knot my shoes, when I went to take them off (at a temp of -20) the knots were frozen and my hands were numb and I had a hell of a time getting them untied and then took a long time to warm my hands again. After a few hours of fitful sleep I got up and hit the trail again, feeling much better. It didn’t seem like many people slept at the shelter this year. Matt Maxwell had left just ahead of me and there was only 1 biker still there when I left. It was a reported -25 to -30 below that night while I was out on the trail. I got to Mel Georges checkpoint mile 72 at 8:45AM.I had caught up to Mike S and Matt M while crossing the lake. Got some food to eat and dried a few of my clothes and was out on the trail again by 9:50 AM. The next part of the trail is really nice. The sun was out and it felt warm despite barely getting above 0 all day and it’s just a pretty trail. The next checkpoint is a long 55 miles away and I had already covered 14 miles this morning so it makes for a long day. Night fall comes and I’m still 25 miles from the final checkpoint and this is where the trail really starts to get tough. The hills are relentless, up and down continuously. These are the hills that are so steep that last year it was scary to ski down them in the dark so I would take off my skies and walk down. I sure was glad that I had decided to bring ski poles with this year, they’re a big help on the hills. After a very long and tough day I reached Crescent checkpoint at 1:15 AM. I had been going strong for about 21 hours. For my headlamps I had figured out that if I kept them in my pockets next to my skin where it was warm the batteries were lasting the expected 5 or 6 hours. Although I was still short on batteries I was hoping I could buy some at the checkpoint otherwise I was going to have to wait till sunrise to leave the check point. It was approaching -20 degrees again and I was glad that the checkpoint was inside. Last year the bar that is the checkpoint was only open till 1AM so we had to sleep outside, at least this year we could be inside. When I got into the checkpoint they had a funky rule that you could only lay down and sleep for an hour, if you wanted to sleep longer than that you had to bivy outside. Well I got my hour of sleep on the floor (Its amazing where you can sleep when really tired I had layed down on the bare floor with only a rolled up shirt for a pillow and before I knew it I was being shook awake, my hour was up.)and spent a few hours eating, drying shoes and clothes and resting and then left at 5:40 AM. Back out into the cold. A snowmobile patrol told me he had heard reports that it was -35 to -40 that morning. Was having a heck of a time keeping my hands warm, as I type this it’s hard because all my finger tips are numb. The trail to the finish is 21 miles of mostly flat Black spruce bog. It seems like you are on a high mountain plateau. I had gotten a good rest at the checkpoint and felt like I was really moving along, although for awhile I think I was sleeping walking. The sun was out again and it felt good on your face. Reached the finish line at 12:23 PM. Total time of 53 hours and 23minutes and 8th place in the foot category.
On foot 18 finishers of 54 starters
On bike 39 finishers of 59 starters
On ski's 0 finishers of 7 starters
OVERALL AVERAGE SPEED 23.7 MINUTES PER MILE = 2.5 MPH
AVERAGE SPEED WHEN SUBTRACTING 9.5 HOURS SPENT AT BIVY AND AT CHECKPOINTS= 19.5 MINUTES PER MILE or 3 MPH

From the Duluth News Tribune

By Sam Cook Outdoors writer
You have to admire the pluck of a race in which the website warns: “Do not expect to get rescued, except by yourself or maybe your mommy.”
But that’s the spirit of the Arrowhead 135, a grueling endurance event in which bikers, runners and cross-country skiers spend up to two and a half days covering 135 lonely miles of snowmobile trail from International Falls to Tower.
This year’s sixth running of the race starts at 7 a.m. Monday. Finishers must reach Fortune Bay Casino by 7 p.m. Wednesday. A field of 134 is signed up, including three Brazilians, a Bolivian and a Spaniard.
Eric Larsen, who lives part-time in Grand Marais, has entered the race for the first time. He’ll be on his bike. Larsen, 39, skied to the North and South Poles and reached the summit of Mt. Everest, all within a year’s time, finishing last fall. He says he’s only hoping to finish the race.
Jeremy Kershaw of Duluth will be doing his third Arrowhead 135. He skied it and finished in 2009. He bicycled it last year and finished. This year, he will run it. Nobody has yet finished the race in all three modes of travel.
“I want to be the first to do it,” said Kershaw, 39, a registered nurse and former dogsledding guide.
Duluth’s Anne Flueckiger, 41, and her friend Leah Gruhn of Duluth are doing it for the first time. They’ll ski it, towing sleds with the required 20 pounds of gear, including a minus-20-degree sleeping bag.
“If conditions are good, we have a chance of finishing,” Flueckiger said. “If they’re really challenging, then we probably don’t have a chance at all.”
The race runs continuously, day and night. Bikers, if conditions are good, can finish in about 16 hours. Former Duluthian and race director Dave Pramann of Burnsville, Minn., holds the course record of 15 hours, 45 minutes.
In five of six years, the temperature has dipped to minus 20 during the race.
“The race takes two and a half days for the skiers and runners,” Pramann said. “You’re often alone out there in the middle of the night. You’re cold and you’re tired and it’s a matter of staying focused.”
The race has only three checkpoints, although volunteers on snowmobiles ride the course to check on participants.
Duluth firefighter Jim Reed tried it first on skis in 2008 and dropped at the half-way point. The next year, he tried skiing again. He dropped at 35 miles that year. Last year, he finished first among skiers in just under 53 hours.
“So much of it is mental,” said Reed, 51. “It helps if you get some mental training, like skiing at night. We’re looking at 10 hours of daylight and 14 hours at night (each day).”
Participants have no support crews — not even their mommies — and just three checkpoints along the route. They’re allowed a drop bag of 15 pounds — food and drink only, no clothes — at the halfway point.
Strange things can happen out there on the trail.
“A wolf jumped out ahead of us last year and led us down the trail for two or three miles,” Pramann said. “He kept looking over his shoulder once in a while.”
Sometimes, in the wee hours, the wolves are merely imagined.
“I’ve had plenty of wolves following me that weren’t really there,” Kershaw said.
Conditions — deep cold, fresh snow — often conspire to slow the pace.
“You’re averaging (on skis) 3 miles per hour,” Reed said. “Even the bikers are averaging only 4 or 5 miles per hour. The incredibly slow pace really drags on your mind.”
Pramann, who has biked the race four times and won it twice, cannot imagine doing it any other way. The fastest bikers average better than 8 mph.
“To me, that’s the only normal way to do it,” he said. The people who run it and ski it are a little bit whacked, I think.”
Duluth’s Charlie Farrow, 50, will be biking his fifth 135.
“If you’re racing to win it, you have to take really short breaks,” he said. “The guys that take 15 minutes or less at the halfway point are the ones winning it. No breaks along the trail.”
Nearly all participants wear Camelbak bladders of water inside their layers of clothing. The trick is to keep the tube and mouthpiece that runs out of the bladder from freezing.
Farrow trains with Duluth’s Jason Buffington, who also will bike the race.
“He came up with this idea of keeping the Camelbak hose by his mouth,” Farrow said. “He’s perfected this thing where he runs it right next to the carotid artery. He modified his face mask, sewed a bunch of stuff on it.”
While some enter to compete, others are there just for the personal challenge.
“People love to challenge themselves,” Kershaw said. “We’re not going to go climb Mount Everest. This is right in our backyard. It uses almost every skill set I have, from winter camping to skiing. I think that’s why I do it. It really tests me.”