January Newsletter Volume 2
Welcome to the January newsletter. Having just emerged from a dark winter, the light is upon us. Plans are starting for the spring and summer months. Why not get started on your bike fitness training on our new bike trainer, or take advantage of the ski lessons and races around Fairbanks. Our feature story in this issue is a story about mushing trip into Tolovana Hotsprings. This is the season for trips into the Alaska wilderness!
Theft Alert - $2000 reward
Goldstream Sports was broken-into on the evening of January 30th. Our High-end bikes were targeted. If anyone has any information on the bikes taken we would appreciate it. If the thieves are apprehended, we will reward the finder with $2000. The bikes stolen are: Mountain Bikes -Trek Fat Possum LX (charcoal grey), Trek Fuel EX 9.5 (charcoal), Trek Fuel EX 5.0 T(blue), Klein Palomino XV (blue), Gary Fisher Paragon (red), Gary Fisher Cake 2 (white); Road Bikes -LeMond Zurich T (blue/white); Trek Madone 5.0 (black).
Feature Item: Kinetic Rock ‘n Roll bike trainer
This revolutionary new trainer moves and grooves with the rider, simulating a natural side-to side action. The Kinetic Rock 'n Roll Trainer simultaneously allows a rider to work on their cycling technique and power, and is particularly effective in replicating out-of-saddle hill climbing. This unique design has progressive dampening to support riders of any weight, and self-centers the rider for a natural pedaling action. Kinetic is working towards replicating the feel of the outside environment in their bike trainers. Come and see the new trainer at Goldstream Sports and try it out for yourself.
Tech Tip: Applying Cold Powder
Use a sharp scraper to scrape cold wax, and scrape ski when wax is fully cooled to avoid base structure damage.
Switch to a cold wax, such as Toko Blue, that is easier to scrape. Iron on the cold wax until it is smooth, then sprinkle cold powder onto liquid trail behind the iron of the cold wax. Make 3 passes over the cold powder from tip to tail, taking around 15 seconds per pass.
Sale Item – Gary Fisher Fat Possum XT 19.5 inch
Full suspension bike Normally $2,639, Sale Price $1600.
 |
-150mm travel suspension |
Tolovana Hotsprings - There and Back
as published in Mushing Magazine September/October 2005
While soaking at Chena Hot Springs Resort on a chilly February evening after a trip to Lower Angel Creek Cabin, a mushing trip to Tolovana was proposed, and the vote was unanimous. Planning this type of trip always becomes bigger than intended. Of the original four people, two of those would partake on the trip, but like everything adventurous in Fairbanks, word gets out and all of a sudden there are 10 people. Over a dinner at my cabin in Goldstream Valley, we had a planning party, who would cook which meal, who would mush, walk or ski in. Like any game, the players switch, drop out or new ones invite themselves. By the time we left the parking lot, only two of the original planners would be heading towards the hot springs.
I had been drawn to Tolovana since I first heard about this mysterious place. I arrived in Alaska in January of 2002 from Australia. The thought of moving to Alaska was one of the easiest I have ever had, and so was the thought of visiting Tolovana. The sense of adventure is what drives me every day. I had heard stories: amazing nights under the northern lights, soaking in the hot tub, not another soul for miles in any direction. The backcountry of Alaska is real wilderness, where you are likely to run into animals which may cause the hairs to stand up on your neck, or just make you look in awe at forests so thick that you can only imagine what could lie beyond the farthest tree you can see.
The cabins at the hot springs are by reservation only, and during the winter weekend reservations must be made up to a year in advance. The number of people per cabin is restricted to enhance the atmosphere of solitude. The cabins are stocked with fuel for the stove and oil for the lamps. There is always firewood available, though it may need a little chopping.
Our group was from a very diverse background, but we all had one thing in common, the love of snow sports. Mike, a musher from Two Rivers, would provide the sleds and most of the dogs. His 10 years of mushing experience would come in handy. Stephanie and Josh, a young married couple working in Nenana for an Iditarod musher, last to join the entourage, had some experience, more than me anyway. Candace, who had just defended her Master’s thesis on the topic of sea ice and spotted seals, did not feel out of place in this white wilderness. She planned to ride a small plastic sled down the hills to the cabin, and strap it to her back when the terrain turned uphill.
I told everyone I would be mushing into Tolovana, I never said how I would get out. A skijorer riding on a sled is one thing, but mushing with a heavy laden sled down narrow, winding trails, just seems like a recipe for disaster.
The drive out to the trailhead was slick, and being behind a fuel truck blowing snow made whiteout conditions for more than half the drive. At the trailhead to Tolovana Hot Springs, we found no markings, just a couple of other cars in a pullout. The view was impressive; we stood up high and looked over to the dome which we would soon cross. We had heard stories about the winds in the carpark, told of the desperate need to get things arranged as soon as possible and to get in the trees for cover, but it seemed this wind was on a break.
We took our time dropping the 20 dogs and setting up the four sleds, packing sleeping bags and human and dog food, and of course towels into the sleds. Candace and Brandy, a UAF skier, would be hiking, sledding and skiing. Candace led the way hiking with a sled strapped to her backpack. When the opportunity arose, she removed her backpack and rode the pack and sled down the long winding hills, luge-style. I caught her on the flat around 3 miles into the 11-mile trail; her sled marks told a tale of speed and extreme enjoyment. My knuckles were still white when I caught up to her, the result of swapping skis for a sled. I managed to make the turns, learning about balance; the use of legs as outriggers, the body as a shifting weight and the subtle movements of the feet on the runners.
The trail was rough in some sections. The uneven trail left by the snowmachines was easy. It was the narrow hard pack with the 2-foot drop-off, and the thigh-deep soft snow that was the hardest. The uphills, long and pretty straight, were a chance to see how fit I had become during the skijor season. Out of necessity, I ran the three miles uphill. Every time I rode the runners for a break, the dogs would turn back in disgust.
I met a few people on the trail, all coming back from the hot springs. The strangest encounter was a lone dog hauling a pulk. He went by my team, stopped and looked at me, whimpered looking back up the trail and continued on his way down hill. The skiers coming down were of varying abilities, one smoothly stopping to chat, while his friend made a series of face plants before reaching me. Josh passed me with his 6-dog team to reach the top of the dome.
Here there were the telltale signs of the wind that can roar through this area. The few black spruce trees were bent, and the snow was wind-blown. We reached the old airstrip, and started to go downhill again. I stopped on the side of the trail as I could not make a turn as well as I should. Completely off the trail to the side, I looked up and saw the other two teams. I waited for them to pass me, Stephanie coming first, Mike observing from the top of the trail. Stephanie was coming fast, too fast!! I was still behind my team laying my snowhook. I looked uphill and saw the dogs running down the hill with what seemed an out of control sled. When bad things are about happen, time seems to slow down. I was able to look at the following team, look at my team and the trail I had left open wide, and look back uphill. I jumped out of the way and as the team ran past me, the sled seemed to want to remain on the trail, but what happened was not in the plans.
The impact was loud, with a lot of crunching that could have been from the trees which were bent and broken. However, after moving Stephanie’s sled, we discovered that the noise had come from my runners, which were ripped cleanly off my sled. The disabled sled looked like a worn-out car left to rust. After redistributing two dogs from my team, and letting my own two dogs run free, I helped Mike and Stephanie get down the winding, steep hill. Stephanie stopped at the top of a steep, narrow hill, exhausted and fearful of tackling this hill alone. I had heard about this hill. Snowmachiners turned away from me when telling their account of this monster. Skiers winced as they recalled the steepness, and any skijorer with an ounce of self-preservation knew to unhook the lead-ers from their gangline. I stood at the top of this legend, and just saw an awesome straight hill, a little steep but nothing to be concerned about. With words of encouragement, and the thought of my broken sled in the back of my mind, I unclipped the tug lines of all the dogs, leaving the two leaders clipped in, and led her down the hill step by step. At the bottom, clipping up her team again, she mushed the rest of the way to the cabin. The hill conquered with no great stories to tell, I walked the 1.5 miles, contemplating the trip out.
Along the trail it was clearly evident that the wildfires of 2004, which had threatened Fairbanks, had not been so forgiving in the White Mountains. Large stands of blackened spruce trees, reaching for the heavens, looked eerily sad against the brilliant white snow. Small areas had been spared from the devastating fires which burned more than 4.5million acres of forests. The sight brought back memories of the dense smoke blocking the midnight sun and making breathing difficult.
Arriving at the cabin was relief. The sled dogs had already been lined out on a 19-dog tie out. Taut between two trees, this cable line was to be the home for the dogs for the next two nights. The cabin itself was a small green frame structure with a porch and a ramp leading to the doorway. The inside was log and very small, but the size was deceiving. Two bunk beds along the back wall, a gas stove and a wood stove. Under the picture window looking out to the dogs was a card table, the battleground of Force 10.
Moose steaks and king crab legs were among the meals we indulged in. Who says campers need to rough it in the Alaska wilderness? The hot springs were the main attraction. Three hot tubs continuously filled with hot and cold water hoses from a nearby spring, allowing campers to customize the temperature. Relaxing at the hot springs was definitely the goal, and the goal was achieved. Sledding between the hot springs and the cabin was a favorite pastime for Brandy, whose speeds were awe-inspiring.
Collecting water to cook with, feed the dogs and use for drinking was an adventure. The trail was off the main trail to the hot springs between the cabins. The narrow 1-foot wide trail led to a tiny creek. In this creek was a small well. A ladle lay on top, and after lifting the lid of the well a little bucket was revealed. Water ladled from the bucket seeped through the perforated sides, allowing clean water to filter into the bucket and leaving the leaves, twigs and organic mulch outside. The water was crisp and very clean.
When we departed the hot springs area, the atmosphere was different. There was a breeze. We had been warned about these winds, but were not prepared for the conditions that lay ahead. Candace and I started walking long before everyone else even started to get ready. Our plan was to make it as close to the trucks as possible before we got passed by the sleds. My sled, being a wreck, was loaded onto Mike’s sled. The wind, which had picked up overnight, had blown away any sign of the trail. The loose dogs were our
only means of finding the trail, besides flailing around in thigh-deep snow. The steep hill which had frightened Stephanie two days before lay like a featureless hill.
On topping the dome, the wind was blowing horizontal. The sled on Candace’s back now acted like a sail and she fought very hard to stay on the trail and keep moving forward. The tress showed the signs of the relentless wind, bent over, reaching for the snow. We didn’t hear the first team coming. The roar of the wind hid the subtle noise of the runners on snow. The sight was eerie. The dogs fighting up the hill, wind in their faces, and the driver, Josh, wearing mountaineering goggles to keep the drying gale out of his eyes. Within a few seconds, he had disappeared into the snow cloud. The other two teams passed us, Mike with my broken sled strapped to his.
Down into the trees again we had a reprieve from the wind, and on the hill, Candace bade me farewell as she mounted her plastic sled and flew into the valley. I decided not to be beaten by speed but to run the 3 miles downhill, making sure every step was placed well to avoid an ankle injury or knee injury. Candace had started walking thinking I would be a long way behind, but to her surprise running downhill was almost as time efficient as sledding. On the last uphill, a sound was heard in the distance. As it came closer, we noticed it was a snowmachine towing a skier on teleskis. The noise and smell were both deafening to the senses.
The last uphill was the longest. Looking up at our intended destination, we pushed on. Our bodies were getting tired, my hip aching with every step from an old horse riding injury, but we kept moving. Finally, we rounded the last turn, and reached the parking lot. All the wind power we had experienced on the dome was nothing compared to the parking lot. My two dogs jumped straight into the truck and refused to budge, their journey finished. Our gear had been carried by dog team and placed in Brandy’s truck. She was still on the trail, and had told us not to wait for her. I felt a wave of nausea as we drove away, hoping and saying a very small prayer that she returned safely.
Driving home, with the mushers hours ahead of us, the road empty, overflow stretching across the frozen dirt, sun still high in the sub-arctic spring, Candace and I were comforted by the thought of a warm shower and a stiff drink. Alas, running water in cabins is more often than not just a dream, so a stiff drink was poured with the memories of an amazing trek into some of the most beautiful backcountry in Alaska.
Amanda Byrd moved from Sydney, Australia, to Alaska in 2002. When she’s not busy working as the editor of Mushing Magazine, she is spending time with her kennel of racing sprint sled dogs.
Note: Tolovana Hotsprings cabins must be booked ahead of time.
February 2007 Calendar
| Date | Club | Time Location | Event |
| 3 | NSCA | 11.00 Kinkaid Park | Besh Cup #5 |
| 4 | NSCA | 11.00 Kinkaid Park | Besh Cup #6 |
| 9-11 | ASPA | Various locations | Race Across the Valley |
| 11 | SCC | Salcha | Interior Youth Champs |
| 18 | NSCF | 11.00 Birch Hill | Chest Medicine Series #3 |
| 18 | NSCA | Kinkaid Park | Anchorage Cup |
| 18 | ASPA | 11.00 Creamers Field | Training Clinic |
| 22-23 | NSCA | Kinkaid Park, Anchorage | AK State HS Championships |
| 24 | NSCF | 11.00 Birch Hill | Fairbanks Biathlon Series |
| FCC - Fairbankc Cycle Club - SCC - Salcha Ski Club; ASPA - Alaska Skijor and Pulk Association ; NSCF - Nordic Ski Club Fairbanks; NSCA - Nordic Ski Club Anchorage | |||
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