Cold-Tested Grease for Rear Hubs

I just had my Mukluk built up with ultra-fancy-blingy Six 1 Six hubs, made in Grand Rapids, MI. They come packed with 'Morningstar Soup,' rated from -50 to 140 F. Herein lies the problem.

(Winterizing is putting very little extremely thin grease/almost no grease at all on the pawls in the rear hub so they engage at 0F & colder. If hubs are packed, per se, with any grease, the extreme cold causes the grease to gum up, which prevents the pawls from engaging.)

I left my bike in the back of my van during the day, while parked at work. When I got it out to show a co-worker at the end of the day, the rear hub didn't engage - it slipped many times - meaning the pawls didn't catch, i.e., the grease used to 'winterize' the hub doesn't work/there was too much grease in the rear hub. It was -15F, not -50F.
I went straight to the LBS to find a friend who built a set of fat wheels with the other set of hubs that came and he had the same problem - lots of slipping and failing to engage.
After this, I went on two different -5 to +5 F rides and had my rear hub fail to engage, continually, many times on each ride. 

As it turns out, Six 1 Six simply injects their hubs with the Morningstar Soup, inundating the hub with it and forcing out all the normal grease. This means the hubs are literally full of grease, and, therefore, will not work in the cold. Even though the lube is rated to -50F, there is way too much in there and it needs to be removed, leaving a very thin film of grease.

I've heard a lot of contradicting stories this past week about Six 1 Six, Soup, and both's effectiveness/quality.
All I can say is shops in Anchorage stopped using Soup and there are internet stories of Six 1 Six hubs 'shitting the bed shortly' after being built, but one extremely accomplished rider has used Soup on at least 6 ITIs down to -60F and Lubriplate Mag-1 grease has been proven to work for over a decade in the coldest temperatures.

My hubs are now sporting a thin film of Mag-1, winterized by hand, not by a syringe.

Make your own judgements and 'wear some comfy walking shoes.'

No, I did not die.

It's been a month-and-a-half since I last posted, as you probably well know. Sorry. Life has been busier than words can describe, mostly with adventure, but work (out of the office) has played a big part, as well. I have only worked indoors for about a week in the past month-and-a-half, which has been awesome, but also stressful.

Jen & I joined 9 others in Yakutat and paddled down the Russell Fjord for a ways, before deciding that only 4 hours pause in the rain in three days was trumping our ability to enjoy ourselves. We turned around the next day and everyone else continued on. Snow accumulating on our packrafts made us happy we were headed back, while the others continuing down the fjord wondered what they were doing going closer to the glaciers.

The night we got back, I started moving into a new cabin located 3.5 miles closer to town. It's way nicer than the old place and that much closer to work, which is huge in the winter when it's -35F. I somehow scrambled to move out of one cabin and into another in 5 days, just in time to leave for two weeks.

The next fifteen days were spent on the Yukon River, between the town of Circle and the Canadian border, surveying peregrine falcons nesting on the bluffs above the river. A great, long time out on the river (my old stomping grounds) and we got to watch a lot of birds... pretty much a nesting pair on every bluff.

The day after I got back, it was re-pack and turn around to boat down the Yukon, orienting four co-workers to Yukon-Charley Rivers National Preserve. The Yukon was at flood stage and it was like being in combat, navigating the boat on the river.

After being car-less for a month, I made the decision to keep it status quo and buy a new bike instead of a car. The Fargo 3 got the nod over the higher-end Fargo 2, which lacks bar-end shifters and is only a 2x10 with a really lame paint job. I'd feel snobbish running 10 in the rear, like a real road biker, which I am not. A couple other little things, ironically, make the 3 nicer (IMHO) than the higher price point 2, outside of the bane of my existence, Avid BB5 brakes, which are easily replaced for cheap. Overall, I like the Fargo over the Surly Ogre because of the drop bars, the road gearing up front and a mountain cassette in the rear (all mountain on the Ogre), and having been not so impressed with the feel of the Ogre, either.

Now, only four days after returning, it's the eve of heading down to California with Jen to do a mini road trip to Nevada.

The point of all this is I have countless photos, stories, gear reviews, etc, to share from as far back as February... or maybe even earlier. But, with a lot of time off the rest of this summer and lots of big plans (plus a GF, lonely dogs, and a new cabin to move into), it may be fall before I even get a chance to go through all the photos, much less put together a post worth reading.

All I can say is thank you and semper fidelis.
Now, go get some, yourself!

I should do a post in February

Well, I didn't die. The month-and-a-half long cold snap down to -57F at my cabin didn't kill me because I barely did anything outside the whole time. It almost killed me, though... mentally. I got 50 below in Fairbanks for my birthday and even colder where I live. Thanks, Mother Nature. I really appreciated it. Yeah.
Since it warmed up, I've battled to regain the desire to go outside and experience this thing they call 'fun.' I almost forgot what it was.

Skiing seemed like a reasonable idea during the cold snap and a few friends finally convinced me to go outside. It was worth it.

Then the outdoors editor for the local paper called me and asked some questions about fatbikes. I was featured in the story.

I put out Far North Fatbikes' third edition of our newsletter, The Fat & Happy.

Then, I got to head out into the great white world of Yukon-Charley Rivers National Preserve to co-manage the hospitality stop (photos) at Slaven's Roadhouse for the Yukon Quest International Sled Dog Race. The aurora gave me a nice goodbye the night before I left and then welcomed me the night I arrived at the historic roadhouse.

When I got back, my buddy Brett & I headed out into the White Mountains with our fatbikes and did the 100 mile loop in two days. It was a coarse reminder of how far 100 miles is and how out of shape we were from the cold snap.
The only thing I have to say, don't wear a backpack while biking. It kills ventilation.

My buddy, Jack, came into Anchorage from Nome, so J.R. & I went down to see him and ride fatbikes.
J.R. put together a video of the trip.

Our bud, Colby designed a sweet new logo for Far North Fatbikes.

I'm working on a trip report of the White Mountains biking trip, but decided I should probably do a post in February.
More to come soon, after I catch up on sleep and do a short bike trip this weekend... just a 40 mile day ride, no big deal :)

Still Cold

Yes, I live in Fairbanks. I should not be complaining about the temperatures lately, as I moved here knowing it has the largest temperature range of any city of size in the world, from -66 to 99 degrees Fahrenheit, but this is ridiculous... the temperature at the Fairbanks airport has been above zero degrees Fahrenheit for a total of 33 hours since December 23rd. Now, we are to have yet another week of 20 & 40 below... not that it ever left. We set records in November for the numerous low temperatures and number of days in a row at them.

I really hate this cold.

I've learned this winter that I stop having fun at 20 or 25 below zero.
Any enjoyment at all seems to end at 25 or 30 below zero.

When I lived downstates, winter was my season. I actually hated summer. I almost always got out more in winter than the summer months. Now, the reverse is true, completely due to the extreme cold. I get out so little in the winter that I'm about ready to explode by the time summer rolls around, so then I'm really active. Three winters in a row, I haven't done a damn thing until at least mid-January, if not later. Last winter, I didn't even have 100 cumulative miles on my bike before doing the White Mountains 100 bike race. I went off-trail once, on snowshoes. This year has quite literally been too cold to do anything remote, out of town, away from the safety of a warm space.

But then again, it seems worse to sit inside and stop doing the things I love outdoors than to go out in 30 & 40+ below. Pick your poison.
I describe recreating in these temps as you can beat -20. You can stay warm. But you cannot beat -40. It will always win. You may never stop fighting it, though, because it could be the last time you're ever cold. That battle is neither fun nor enjoyable.

I'm ready for warmer temperatures... maybe permanently.

They say 'that which does not kill us makes us stronger.' But if it's not making me stronger, is it killing me?

The Annual Chapter of Learning

2011 was personally not the most epic year of my life, but it stood out as one of the greatest years I can remember. 
Below is a list all the reasons why, but, truly, they are all the same reason it was such an absolutely amazing year for me:
I learned SO much!

January:
-After running a 29er on Snowcats for over a year, I listened to the choir and built a fatbike... and never looked back.
-I figured out how to stay warm enough, yet keep from sweating, while biking & bike-joring at 30 & 40 below.
-As it turns out, biking means happiness. This, I can verify.
-Finally got my Boundary Fur Sewing beaver & wolverine ruff put on my down parka.

February:
-Religiously following the mushers on the Yukon Quest actually taught me a lot of things about dog mushing.
-I purchased a sewing machine and then DID NOT learn how to use it. What I did learn is how intricate and temperamental they are.
-Learning to lead ice climbing made me a better climber.
-I made a proposition to rename the majority of the contiguous 48 states: Illohiowa, Nebransas, Calegon, Utada, New Mezona, Missiana, Washaho, Florgeama, Massicutt, Rhodaware, Caroginia, Tennestucky, Wisconigan, Minnekota, Wyotana, Texlahoma, and Maineshire. I would also like to add that Alaska should assume all western Canada's territories and provinces west of and including Sasquatch-chew-on. Why would anyone want None-of-it, a Labrador, OKbeck, and New-found-land, anyway?!?!
-Most importantly, I took a little girl down the road for a dogsled ride and was reminded of how wonderful it is to make a child smile.

March:
-Brett and I attempted to summit Mt McKinley in winter, but were forced to turn around due to hip-deep sugar snow (with snowshoes on). Oh yeah, and it was -35, we only had three days of food, and were burning through the white gas faster than planned. Fortunately, I learned a lot about clothing and winter gear.
-In 2010, I volunteered on the inaugural White Mountains 100 bike/ski/foot race and then biked the 100 mile course the following weekend, solo & unsupported. This year, I, for some reason, thought it was a good idea to sign up for the race and then waited to the bitter end to find out if I got in. I finished respectfully, having an awesome time riding the course with everyone.

April:
-For the first time publicly, I showed some of the photographs I've taken in the past five years.
-Not staying in touch with friends in the Lower 48 brought me back to Facebook after a long hiatus after joining in 2005.
-After buying an electric bass guitar, I taught myself how to play.
-Tough times reminded me to look back on good ones... real good ones.
-J.R. and I found out how cool biking the Denali Park Road over Easter is.

May:
-Apparently, drinking 37 different kinds of beer in 21 days is the only way I can gain weight.
-When I went to Wisconsin to see my parents for three weeks, I wrote this on Facebook: 'I left Alaska and there was an 800 acre wildfire within two miles of my cabin. I went to the great state of Missouri Misery and the deadliest tornado in America since 1953 hit right after I left. I traveled to Minnesota and then Minneapolis was hit by a tornado. I drove through La Crosse, Wisconsin and a tornado hit the next day. We just had tornado warnings and severe thunderstorms in Northeast Wisconsin. Maybe I should go back home to my cabin in Alaska... I'm glad I've missed it all.'
-If you let ice cream melt a little, it doesn't look like you ate so much.

June:
-My 'extended seasonal' position as a Park Ranger ended and I applied to get my job back. Fortunately, I did. I found out how lucky I am to have the job I do.
-Ken and I learned the real story of Chris McCandless by talking with many Healy locals and visiting the bus with open eyes and minds.
-After severely 'dislocating' my left knee for the 6th time in just over three years, the doctor told me I had, again, torn my MCL. Great news. After a few weeks of rest, I was pretty much back up and running again (literally).
-The Middle Fork of the Koyukuk was checked off my very long Alaskan Rivers To Float list. When my car's poorly-installed-by-the-original-owner security system was tripped and shut the car down, I learned that as complete of planning as I had done for the trip, there's always something unexpected that can happen.
-Firestarter has always interested me and I found out how to make my own.
-I woke up one morning to a huge hornet stinging me on the eyebrow. Good morning!
-Stoves had me wondering, so I did some math and figured what was efficient and light.

July:
-Creek crossing on a fatbike is a lot like managing eddy lines in a canoe.
-Research shows black bears are the most dangerous of all.
-No matter how bad things may be, I learned to always enjoy the view and take in what's good.
-Alaska Explorer & I started a fatbike rental business.
-Fatbikes are pretty awesome for exploring in summer, too, as I learned in the beauty of the season.
-Ken and I went backpacking in the Eastern Brooks Range and learned to never go up scree slopes. Being rim-rocked is not cool.
-While at work as a Park Ranger for the National Park Service, I wrote up a few documents and guides relating to backcountry travel in Alaska: Adventure Planning Guide, Backcountry Trip Plan, & Backcountry River Crossing. All can be viewed here, along with other great stuff.

August:
-I learned how to be an adventure photographer when Ed Plumb, Ann Farris, and I hiked and packrafted 94 miles through the Alaska Range in three days. It was an adventure I had been planning for over two years. Over two 5,000 foot passes in driving rain, snow line moving down the hillsides overnight, 6 mph glacial current, and running two Class III holes without a PFD and in a packraft with no spray deck. Awesome Alaskan weekend with good friends and my DSLR in hand at all times.
-In contrast to our March adventure, my buddy Brett and I learned that some places are best visited under the cover of snow after hiking 60 miles of tussocks, brush, and unstable boulders. We also drank the best water of our lives, which was rivaled by the meltwater I drank the following month on the Matanuska Glacier.
-I learned how to build and maintain bikes after figuring out I never use trekking poles.
-My 'Learning Experience' video was a big hit on Roman Dial's website and on YouTube.
-I found a crazy link about sailing stones - rocks that move on their own!

September:
-In a 5 1/2 month span, this blog had 7,500 page views. I was thrilled at reaching so many. I hope they all learned something, too.
-The fatbike business kicked off when a few of us went fatbiking in Wrangell-St Elias National Park for a long weekend.
-I designed a website for Amanda's Boundary Fur Sewing business which specializes in fur products for extreme cold weather adventures.
-Andrew Skurka stopped in Fairbanks and gave his Alaska-Yukon Expedition presentation.
-With the Coal Wood Glitter video and write-up, I took third place in DaveC's trip report contest and won a sweet backpack.
-Someone downstates asked me about fatbikes and possibly building one. I shared my thoughts.
-With a few things learned and some thoughts still lingering, I revisited the stove debate.
-For the second year in a row, my dad walked out into the woods, shot a buck with his bow while hunting on the ground, and dragged it out by himself. Something to be proud of even without his much disabled leg. I'm proud of him.
-I watched the Alaskan version of Dancing With The Stars while laying in my sleeping bag at night, watching the aurora sweep across the star-filled sky as I fell asleep.
-Having learned time-lapse photography, I figured I was ready to graduate to stop-motion, which I experimented with on a glacier. I learned very quickly what not to do, but got a decent result, nonetheless. Please watch it in HD.

October:
-Chuck Testa forever redefined what comes to mind when I hear the word 'nope.'
-My buddy Nick taught me how to hunt and quarter caribou. I taught him how to cold weather camp. It was the best trip ever. Literally.
-On the same trip, I put everything I knew to test on how to use canister stoves in cold weather. The finer points are what I learned.
-I mustered up the courage to do my first free-solo climb on ice and this year's first ascent of the Fox Creek waterfall.
-After doing some research, I found out everyone should leave their guns at home and just use bear spray.
-I learned the truth about plate tectonics.
-Girthy Thursdays became a popular event with the local fatbikers. We explore new trails every week.

November:
-Published the inaugural Fat & Happy Newsletter for Far North Fatbikes, J.R. & I's fatbike rental business.
-Sharing is wonderful and I hope my writing on a new fatbike tire, warm hands in cold weather, and clothing for winter biking was good, too.
-Brett & I had yet another failed winter trip, this time due to whiteout conditions.
-There were a few things learned while fatbike camping at 25 below.
-Fairbanks had an average temperature of -30.1 Fahrenheit from November 15-21. It was not only the coldest week during the month of November since 1930, but Fairbanks was also the coldest city in the world for most of the month. The temperature at my cabin never rose above -30F for over two weeks, and possibly more.
-I became the most frost-covered I have yet to experience on a 17 mile round-trip walk to town one night. I was bored in my cabin and needed to get outside. The cold weather had me cooped up indoors far too long, so I decided to walk to the store and get some ice cream, as I was fresh out. Dressed in wool from head to toe to fight the 25 below temperature, I traveled 17 miles in just under 6 hours! Here's what I wrote on Facebook when I returned at one o'clock in the morning:

'Just because I was walking the streets of Fairbanks at 10 pm, dressed in wool head to toe and my army surplus mukluks because it was 25 below, doesn't mean I'm homeless, so stop looking at me like that. Maybe my car wasn't plugged in and I just walked 8.5 miles to town because I really wanted some ice cream. Besides, honey maple nut tastes better petroleum-free.'

-It was -49F while biking to work one morning.

December:

-Put out the second edition of the Fat & Happy.
-A continual project, I figured out how to reduce my Alaskan summer basepack weight to under 10 lbs. A huge personal achievement. 
-I gave a public presentation at Goldstream Sports on Being Prepared: Misadventures in the Alaska Backcountry. It was my first in years and not only reminded me how fun they are, but also how much work goes into it.
-I moved out of my dry cabin to my friend's place 3/4 of a mile up the hill. I moved partially by dog team and now have better accommodations for them and myself.
-Mushing this month has taught me a lot about traveling with dogs.
-Fatbike rentals picked up some and J.R. & I continue to learn about operating a business.
-Immediately after publishing this post, I went out dog mushing and learned you can never have too much snowhook. I was supposed to be taking the dogs out for a run, not me!
-We all shared our thoughts about the right shelter for every condition. A perfect way to cap off the year's education and one of the most productive discussions I've had all year.
-And I heard the best quote of 2011 from this year's Heisman Trophy winner:

'The hotter the heat, the harder the steel. No pressure, no diamonds.'

This blog started 2011 at 2,000 page views and closes out the year at 18,000. Thank you. That is exactly why it still exists.

An even bigger thank you goes out to everyone who made this year what it was. So many incredible conversations and experiences with faces both new and old. Many memories were made with friends I hadn't seen in years.

2011 was a good year. I can only hope for 2012 to be even close to as good.

Cold, Fun, & Suffering: A Progression

Alaska has been the coldest place in the world this past week, with Fairbanks at the heart of it all.
I rode my fatbike in to work on two of the coldest days, with the coldest temperature I'm aware of riding through being -49º F.
At 10 mph travel, that's a -66º F wind chill, if the air is calm. The bridge of my nose can attest to this. Call me stupid, and I might agree.

An hour and a half to go twelve miles, mostly on bike paths or trails, with a stop at the gas station just past half-way to get some coffee.
I know what everyone is thinking... why in the hell would I ride my bike twelve miles each way, to & from work in the -40s? My mom questioned me, too, and here's what I wrote to her in an e-mail...

Things are different up here (Alaska). Downstates, people would honestly think I'm a f***ing nut-job. Here, people just think what I'm doing is crazy, not me, personally. See the difference?
Anyone who lives in Alaska is exposed to the extremes, both in terms of the people and the conditions. Mushers do incredibly long runs in all weather imaginable, from minus-60s on the Yukon River, to 0F & blowing 50 mph on the Bering Sea coast. People have been skiing, biking, climbing, running, etc, in Alaska for ages and continue to do so. Plus, if you think about the Alaska Native historical & nomadic lifestyle, it makes us all seem like a bunch of wimps.

I like to push the line in some things I do, for, if nothing else, a way to test myself and in an attempt to, as my good friend described it to me once in terms of alpine climbing, 'make myself bulletproof.' If I take opportunities to practice, which is how I look at it, when I'm out on trips, it's not the end of the world if I'm uncomfortable for a while or experience 'poor' conditions. I'll be able to shrug it off easily and say, 'I've seen worse,' with a smile. Make yourself bulletproof to, hopefully, anything you could experience, both in regards to adventures for recreation and in life, too.

Underlying everything I do is the mantra of 'be smart.' Push the line and test yourself in both what you can handle and the skills you've built, but know the limits of what is realistic and what crosses the line as either dangerous or just stupid/detrimental to your health & well-being. Honestly, I was sweating on the ride home the second day, just a little bit, even though it was at least -35F. That means I have a little wiggle room/buffer/room to spare for riding in those conditions with the clothing system I used. If something goes wrong, I have warm mittens, two puff jackets, and puff pants to put on immediately. Plus, from experience, I know that pushing a bike warms you up SUPER fast.

So, now I know that I can comfortably(?) bike for at least two hours at -45F safely. Sure, depending on conditions and location, I might need a warm sleeping bag/tent/cabin/building to go in at the end, but in a different situation (not commuting to work), I would inevitably attack it differently. If I was biking a big route through a remote area, I'd make sure I didn't sweat and think ahead for everything imaginable.
In 2010, I volunteered on the White Mountains 100 bike/ski/foot race and patrolled the 100 mile route on snowmachine, helping at checkpoints & giving assistance to racers, if necessary, but mostly just making sure everyone was ok. I got a real good look at the route and idea of what it would be like to complete it. So, after oogling over the fatbike tracks for 100 miles, I went back the next weekend and did the route solo & unsupported on my 29er. That trip gave me a lot of confidence and understanding of how fast I can go for how long. In 2011, I felt fully prepared to enter the race, and ended up cutting 13 hours off my solo time, finishing in 16 hrs 15 min on my fatbike.

Photo by Ed Plumb, Nov 2011

I think this is a perfect example of the progression that everyone should do when attempting something extreme, in regards to their own viewpoint of their goals, interests, experience, etc. Start by exposing yourself to it a little bit, like biking at 0 or -20. Then step it up a little more, like commuting or camping in those same temps. Then, go big, once you have things figured out and are comfortable with it, if you so choose. I saw it, I tried it, I raced it. I even went out there hiking in summer this year. Now, I feel comfortable on that route in just about any conditions it could throw at me. It's all the first steps towards crazier sh*t, which is all relative and described in that manner from other, more conservative people's perspectives.

Ironically, Dave wrote similarly about this topic on his blog, this week. Please read, as his insights are noteworthy. One could also compare all this silly talk to the types of fun that alpinist Kelly Cordes wrote about a while ago.

It's important psychologically, if nothing else, to be able to get through a situation because you're seen worse, have overcome a bad situation or experience like it before, etc. All these things can completely destroy a person psychologically in the field, on a trip, or just in life. It can break you down and put you in a hole you can't climb out of alone, which is not a place I ever want to find myself, although it may be inevitable.

I tell myself, and believe, there is a point to everything like this I do, and for once, FINALLY, I may have just found my line of where the fun stops but my body keeps going. Possibly the limit of enjoyability (word?) and the continuation of capability. And, by God, does that make me happy. I've been looking for it for years.
______

For the record, please do not call me hardcore or anything of similar reference, as some people have recently. It irritates me, big time.
I'm just a dude who has an interest in doing this stuff and am just like so many other awesome people out there.
But, most importantly, there are too many people to list that have, do, and will experience far greater things and endure more pain & suffering than I have or ever will and it would be embarrassing to be referred to in terms of so many great adventurers of history & today:
HA, HS, BM, RR, RD, EP, EP, JO, LM, JL, AS, CC & here & here, too... the list goes on.
Maybe I want to be there, but I am not... yet :)

It's been quite the week...

Although I've been failing to get water for over a week now, I have been super busy & productive, after a nine day stint of hunting, hauling, & processing five caribou, which put every other aspect of life on hold.
(I have a dry cabin, so I have a bunch of five-gallon jugs I take into town and fill them up at the local water station. A quarter gets me about 15 gallons. I'm down to my last two liters, since everything is frozen outside and I can't use summer rainwater for watering my dogs.)

To the post office tomorrow go a pair of skis, bindings, & boots for Sir Lord Prince Jackson Gadamus, III in Nome. He's hard-pressed to find some good ones way out there in Nome, so I looked and found exactly what I recommended he get and exactly what I told him he'd never find used at a good price. Ha. Go figure.
I sold Colby a sweet pair of backcountry skis I scored in hopes of passing them on to a friend looking for some.
Took a much-needed day off work to sleep in and wax my own brand-new used backcountry skis. Awesome. Best decision of the week.
Then, I laughed hysterically, after finally going to the grocery store from perusing my cupboards and finding nothing delectable:



I bike-jored six dogs (two at a time) a total of twenty miles, starting their winter snow runs.
Brushed snow off my car almost every day!!!
Ate delicious caribou dinners with friends a few times.
Enjoyed the warmth from a huge bonfire on a cold, clear winter night with some cold, dark winter beers.
Helped some other friends with a few projects of their own.
Thought of and started planning the biggest solo trip I'll have done so far in life (if all works out - skiing 120 mi off-trail in 6 days).

Re-geared my single speed fatbike and then rode it a bunch on the new snow, which is becoming almost ski-able as I write this.
Worked on continually gear-testing a sweet soft shell jacket (now unfortunately discontinued and hence the reason I got it at half-off price) to do a video review for the local outdoor gear store.
Put some time into the fatbike rental business, as our season is just about to be in full-swing!

And, the real highlight of the week:
For the second year in a row, I snagged the first ascent of the year on Fox Creek, a frozen waterfall in the Alaska Range.
This year, it was barely frozen and I decided to free solo it - climb without ropes or any protection - a way to challenge myself in climbing and put huge emphasis on learning how to properly climb ice in all conditions. Pretty thin ice in spots, with the waterfall still falling in full force, which I traversed across in my climb, getting blasted by falling water like standing in a YMCA shower that is spraying ice cold water.
Fortunately, JR got it all on film, which I'm hoping to post soon, along with more pictures of all the adventures of this crazy past week.

Thanks for tuning in. More to come soon, but for now, here is the best packrafting video ever created:
From Luc Mehl, in Alaska, 2011.



Yes, those 70 balloons are filled with helium, and yes, Paul Schauer packrafted down all that BACKWARDS just to make this video.
Brilliant idea. Cheers to creativity at its finest.

It's Back!

Winter is here and settling in for another seven months in Interior Alaska. The past few weeks have been crazy busy, preparing for the season and putting the final touches on some summer projects, including a spattering of good times thrown in the mix.

For five days last week, two friends and I headed up the Dalton Highway 350 miles to the North Slope for a caribou hunt, in hopes of filling our freezers with meat for the year. I had been watching the weather the week before and expected highs and lows of 35 & 10 F, with a discontinuous snow covering, just enough to pull sleds loaded with caribou meat.
Following a bachelor party for a long-time friend and co-worker on Saturday night, I slept and puked for the entire ten hour car ride to the north side of the Brooks Range. I am now very acquainted with the dips and frost heaves in the road and only was upright for about ten miles of it.
Nonetheless, the next morning, Monday, I was rip-roaring, ready to go and we hiked out five miles to get beyond the no firearm shooting corridor. We had already seen about 1,500 caribou and at five miles from the road, we dropped our gear, hiked up a low ridge, and saw a herd, which we stalked and took two cow caribou from.
After gutting, quartering, and dragging them back to our camp we set-up at 5.5 mi off the road, it was finally time for bed. The next morning, we essentially did the same thing: hiked up a ridge, saw some 'bou, stalked them, and took three from the large herd, including two nice bulls. Both the cow and bull I shot dropped in their tracks. My shot on the bull was 275 yards and I anchored him with a spine shot, followed by a double-lung to humanely finish him off.

Nick & I with my first bull caribou and second big game animal taken in Alaska. The cow caribou was the first.

The next two days were spent hauling the five hundred pounds of caribou meat back to the truck 6 miles away, on our backs and in our sleds. It was exhausting, but worth every drop of sweat.
More photos located here.

When we returned to Fairbanks is when the real work began, however, in cutting up and packaging all that meat. Two full days of a four to five man team and we're finally done, with over 100 lbs each in our freezers.

Also, snow greeted us in Fairbanks on our return to town. It's now a white world here and I hope it sticks.
That means time to start running the dogs and get the skis waxed and ready.
It's the best time of year!

Multi-Sport, Multi-Style.

Normally, my basepack weight of gear for hiking is 12 lbs (everything, including what I wear in clothes, except food & fuel).
In Alaska, that's really light. If I'm packrafting, tack on another 7 or 8. But, apparently, if I'm riding a fatbike into a cabin beside a glacier in Wrangell-St Elias National Park for 4 days, my basepack weight is 43 lbs, not including the 30 lb bike. When there's 43 lbs on a 30 lb bike, I have to man-handle it all to even keep it upright. But, that also means once I have it moving, it wants to keep moving!

The 43 lbs of fun & comfort includes:
-18 lbs in stuff to be comfortable at a backcountry cabin in huge mountains for 3 days & nights
-20 in all the gear needed to go ice climbing on the face of the Kuskulana Glacier for a day
-stuff for biking it all in & out a total of 30 miles
-photographing the whole experience with my heavy DSLR
-and enjoying a little top-shelf Irish whiskey beside a campfire or wood stove
but I guess that last part falls under being 'comfortable at a backcountry cabin.'
Maybe, too, the 12 lbs of food for my dog & I.

It's quite the change of pace from my recent adventures in the Alaska Range & White Mountains, as this trip should have lots of relaxing, wood stove heat, campfires, big mountain & glacier views, old mining ruins, bears, glacial ice climbing (testing out new tools!), changing fall colors, and frost, plus one of my dogs is coming and, of course, the always present quality time with friends.
I'm looking forward to the change of pace & style of adventure. I think it goes well with the rapidly changing season.
Winter is almost here!

Building the Fleet

Surly Pugsley fatbike rentals will begin by, if not before, the first snowfall of 2011.
Check out all the details at Far North Fatbikes.

Oh, Snow, how I miss you. Please come back soon...

And sometimes I bike in sunny weather...

[Alarm]: 'Hey! It's 5:30 am. Get up and go biking.'
[Me]: 'No. Give me a minute to decide what I'm going to do today.'
10 minutes later...
[Alarm]: 'Hey, Lazy. I told you ten minutes ago to GET UP. Do it now.'
[Me]: 'I have the power to end you and I will exercise it NOW! This past week has been exhausting and sleep is a priority.'
7:30 am: Frostbite and River start getting restless (they are sleeping with me on the bed). I take them out and feed them. Back to bed.
10:15 am: Good morning, day. NOW it's time to go biking. 10 hrs of sleep and I feel much better.

Threatening clouds and 80+ degree heat didn't stop me, although I thought about just taking it easy inside my cool cabin.
Nome Creek, here I come.
Driving out, I see this A-hole in a big truck chase a bull moose down the middle of the highway for a quarter of a mile. I remind you, it's 80 degrees. The bull was running down the road and kept doing so because the jerk wouldn't give him space, but kept pressuring him. All he had to do was stop and the moose would have went into the woods. Yeah, moose are dumb. Chase them and they'll just keep running a straight line. Stop and they'll divert from the open path.
Then on the way back down at the end of the day, I see an ATV in the middle of the other lane, riding down a super steep section of the highway (on a big hill/summit), followed by a semi and two other vehicles. WTF was the dude on the ATV thinking?!?! The semi driver was probably so furious - I don't know how he kept control of the semi and didn't run the idiot over. Too bad.

Anyway, I was going biking...

I tried biking up the 'trail' to Mount Prindle, but that didn't turn out so well. It's not much of a trail and was pretty frustrating to bike.
I did learn/have a lesson reinforced (in addition the to previous creek crossing adventures) that clear water streams have slippery rocks, as they are coated in a thin layer of algae. Bike tires don't grip slick, wet rocks too well. So, yeah, I got my feet wet.

From there, I jumped back in the car and drove to the put in for Beaver Creek, then came back up the road and decided to give Table Top Mountain Trail a shot. It's a three mile, straight up, straight down loop (hiking trail), through a burned area, then up to the top of the ridge/mountain.

My car is depicted by the circle, over 2000' below

The day before, I found myself & bike around town & at Chena Lake,
enjoying the beautiful day and relaxing in the sun.

To keep up the sunshine biking trend, I laid some tracks along the Tanana River and got a feel of what it's like to roll a fatty in the mud.
I'm very thankful I taught myself how to ride a perfectly straight line, as it sure helps get me happily dry through places like this (below). In winter, I can ride the track of one cross-country ski.

Another short weekend of catching up on sleep and relaxing in the warm summer sun, while riding the fatbike. Hard to top that.
In the next six weeks, I have two 3-day and two 4-day weekends, which I hope to take the fatbike into the Alaska backcountry and see places like the Wood River, Mount Deborah, the headwaters of the Tok River, the Nenana Glacier, Denali National Park, and a return to Bus 142 on the Stampede Trail.
I'm excited. Time to get ready.

My latest love

The stress of work, hard times in life, to-do lists, and disappointments of things that won't be, all disappear when this is the canvas being painted before my eyes [and fat tires :)], for it's just me and the bike, one gear, and the pull uphills have on me.
There's only one thing to think about... and that is to pedal.

I own a business!

Far North Fatbikes

Alaska Explorer & I are partners in the first fatbike rental business north of the Alaska Range!

Alaska Explorer is a professional bike mechanic, cross-country & downhill mountain bike racer, and accomplished Alaskan winter traveler, having been born in Alaska and living here most of his life.
I've guided various forms of backcountry wilderness trips, have tons of Alaskan backcountry experience, managed an outdoor gear rental & tripping business for the University of Wisconsin, and have ridden and raced hundreds of miles in Alaska on dirt and snow.

Look for our Alaskan-built fatbikes to arrive soon.
In the meantime, join our Fat Friends Club, oogle at photos & video from past adventures, and check out our upcoming Rides & Trips.

Give us a call to take a fatty out for a roll.
www.farnorthfatbikes.com or check us out on Facebook!

Get fat with us!

A Blazin' Firestarter

Hendrik Morkel had a link in his Week in Review to a great blog post on DIY waterproof firestarter.

I decided I'd give it a shot this weekend, while stuck in Fairbanks with a bum knee and without my car.

Please see the blog post for the detailed instructions on how to make the firestarters.

Here are my photos of the process, including how to melt the wax.

It produced incredible flames (essentially a small fire on its own) for five minutes. 

At seven and a half minutes, the flames extinguished and it smoldered for another 90 seconds, before disintegrating.

I wanted to try and create a real-life situation, so I soaked one starter for 15 minutes in cold water (to simulate a river crossing or dunk in one), then shook it off and was able to re-light it with one match! However, the only way this was successful was by holding it upside down so the flame and heat were contained and concentrated within the concave shape of the inverted egg carton.

Pretty easy (& cheap!) to make, they produce a small fire, are easily lit with one match even after soaking in water, and are waterproof.

Sure, birch bark might be easier to light, less bulky, and lighter weight, but it doesn't burn as long or act as a small campfire on its own.

If a person can't start a fire using one of these, there isn't going to be a fire. Probably not even a wildfire!