A Prelude to an Adventure....

Arthur Mannix and I with 44 pound packs at the start.

“Steve...

       I've never been able to "afford" the time to do a Wilderness Classic. This year, it's running from Cantwell (Jack river) to Sheep Mountain. I'm thinking of possibly giving it a try this year. Might you be interested?

-Arthur”

     The Email slapped me across the face; Was I interested, he asked?  I hit send on my reply no more than one minute after reading it.

     Yes I am interested.  Thanks for thinking of me.  Let’s get together and talk about it.  Happy Holidays.”

     The Alaska Wilderness Classic has been around since 1982.  The original race from Hope to Homer spawned the stuff of legends.  The Classic, as it is known, is steeped in folklore, at least for me.  I’ve been paying attention.  As someone who has been leaning towards this type of wilderness exploration, I have been inspired by the tales of adventure played out by some of Alaska’s heartiest souls.  Snippets of these tales can be found scattered on the internet but it’s never the whole story.       

     As-the-crow-flies from the start at the Jack River trailhead to Sheep Mountain lodge on the Glenn Highway it is 114 miles.  “How long would our route be?” I wondered. 

      The rules of the Classic are as follows: 

1) Participants must be 18 years of age.

2) Participants may share food, gear, and repairs among themselves.

 3) Roadways are off-limits

 4) Collapsed, abandoned, and public-use cabins are allowed.

 5)  Trespassing on private property or use of any locked cabins and  removal of food or gear from cabins is not allowed.

 6)  Any participant dropping out before the finish must leave a message with the in-town contact.

 7) Rescues cannot be promised or offered. 

 8) Functioning satellite phones or inReach devices must be carried by all teams.

 9)  All travel must be self-propelled, without electric or motorized vehicles or animals.

    10)  All travel must be self-contained; caches are not allowed. Littering or abandoning gear is not allowed. Observe burn bans if in place.

  

     The months and weeks leading up to the challenge were filled with Emails and discussions about gear, food, and weight.  We did our research on gear, food, and planned a detailed route using Google Earth Pro.

      “I think I’ve reached the perfect balance between excitement and scared.”  Arthur’s honesty was refreshing and I realized that I felt the same.  We were driving into Anchorage for the pre-race dinner at Dick Griffith’s house.  We were honored to meet Dick, who is 92 years old and is considered by many to be the Godfather of packrafting and long distance trekking in Alaska.  He was gracious enough to cook up a large pot of bean soup and a huge salad for everyone.  I gave him some smoked salmon. We got to meet the other competitors and share information about our routes.  Interestingly, no two groups would choose the same route. 

     We said our goodbyes, headed back to Talkeetna and prepared ourselves mentally for the journey ahead.  Arthur, his wife Karen and friend Nancy picked me up the next day and we set off for Cantwell.  Karen and Nancy would camp with us in Cantwell and see us off at the start the next morning.  They had an adventure of their own to look forward to.  They planned to hike up and over Kasugi Ridge and packraft back to Talkeetna, a trip Art and I did last November.  We were grateful for their support and wished them well on their own journey. 

     The Classic was supposed to start at 9:30AM.  At 9:45 Matthew, the event organizer, nonchalantly announced, “ Ok, I guess we should probably start this thing.”  We all gathered for a group photo.  Afterwords Matt took his trekking pole and scratched a crude start line in the gravel parking lot.  I followed suit by drawing the words “START.”  Michael Martin, a 20 year veteran of the Wilderness Classic raised a flare gun, shot it high into the air.  Many of us stood there watching the flare as it crackled and arched back down to the ground, landing softly on someone’s SUV.  

     “A journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step.” I said as we walked off of the Denali highway onto the trail that would lead us into what would turn out to be some of the wildest country I’ve ever seen.  

Hearty souls.