30 Below Fatbike Camping: A System Test

I packed up the bike with sleeping bag & pad, since I hadn't slept outside in... I can't remember, which made me sad. It was -15F when I left my cabin, so I brought my -20F bag, as it was snowing and clouded over, which should have meant that it was to get warmer over the course of the night. Well, I woke up after 9.5 hours of sleep to clear skies and at least -25F. (This was the temperature at my cabin when I returned, which is warmer than the area I slept.)
The big spruce tree down by the creek has kept good shelter over me from the night's snowfall, but I had begun to feel the clearing skies and falling temps. I packed up the bag & pad and got rolling on the creek with completely numb fingers. I didn't try to solve the problem because, fortunately, my cabin was not far ahead.
A great night of sleep, outside, breathing fresh air, by myself, under a big spruce tree next to a snow-covered creek... with my fatbike.

What I learned:
1. A tent isn't necessary for camping in winter, in most places. There's almost always a place to tuck your bag into that provides some sort of shelter from either wind and/or falling snow, of which the latter is less of a problem than the former, as it's usually cold enough to stay frozen and not make you wet. Although, tents do hold in heat, resulting in a warmer environment to sleep in, keep the snow out, stop the wind, and provide peace of mind for some people while sleeping out in the dark & scary woods. They take time to set-up and take up space on the bike, as well as add weight. A tent might not be necessary, but it's probably worth the weight if you want to truly camp and not just get a little shut-eye for a few hours.

2. I need a better winter sleeping pad. While I didn't feel the cold, frozen ground, I did feel the hard, frozen ground. There is not enough padding in those two thin, foam pads rolled up under the handlebars. I like to sleep on my side and this made for a pretty uncomfortable rest. Plus, when I rolled them up in the morning, I found I had melted the snow down to the ground. More comfort and a bit more insulation are needed.

3. I need warmer boots; these, specifically. My Keen Summit County boots are great for day rides and down to about -20F for a while, but they're not warm enough for camping at -30F. Sure, vapor-barrier socks (1 gal Ziploc freezer bag) work well, but I don't want to mess with them for short rides.

4. I had the big dry sack that holds my sleeping bag strapped down pretty well under the seat, such that it's a real pain to remove. I was able to get it on the bike real tightly in my warm cabin, but knew that it could be a problem in the cold, dark morning. Yep, it was. Stuffing my sleeping bag back in that bag at 30 below while it was strapped to the bike is too challenging. I'm putting the rack back on so I can stuff the bag on the ground, then simply strap the bag to the rack. Much easier and worth the weight of the rack, as things need to be as simple as possible in these temps.

5. I need to find a way to have warm hands when the inside of the poagies are -30F at the start of a ride, i.e., in the morning after camping out. Maybe handwarmers? But both times I've tried them, they've failed; duds. I've lost faith in them and don't want to rely on something working, then get myself in hard times when they don't. Problem being, hands don't produce much heat, so it takes forever (impossible?) to warm up poagies when they're -30F inside. More research & testing needed.

6. For more than one night in temps around zero or below, vapor-barrier clothing for sleeping is a must. My bag was soaking wet when I pulled it out of the stuff sack, after getting back to my cabin. I can't imagine it would keep me warm on a second night in those temps. I figured this would be the case, but wanted to test it to know for sure. Maybe just wear the VBL clothing while riding then get in the bag? And then straight out in the morning? Again, more testing needed.

7. If you sleep next to a tree, it makes for a nice solid object for pushing your foot into cold, hard boots in the morning :)

Nat Geo Alaska-Yukon Expedition Video

National Geographic created a YouTube video of Andrew Skurka's presentation of his Alaska-Yukon Expedition at the National Geographic Society. Great presentation that provides a lot insight into this trip and one of its scale.

Looking Back: Cowboy Camping

A photo from 2005, when I led a winter backpacking trip to the Superior Hiking Trail in Minnesota and back when people still used film in cameras. We slept out the last night on trail, high up on a massive cliff overlooking Bean Lake, under the stars and, then later, an unexpected layer of wet snow. Waking up at three in the morning, shivering from our damp & no-longer-warm-enough sleeping bags, we packed up and hiked back to the car, amidst the falling snow. I love sleeping outside, under the stars, with no shelter more than any other form of camping, but waking up wet and cold isn't fun. But were we disappointed with this experience? No... we woke up in the early morning and re-warmed ourselves with the 4 mile hike out in the dark, while the falling snow shimmered in front of our headlamps.

Long Overdue: Jan-Oct 2010

Too many photos to post here, so I put them on an online gallery.

Click here to see photos from adventures I've had so far in 2010.
It's been a fun time, as you'll see.

Solstice

It's the happiest day of the year in Alaska... for me, at least.

First off, it's the most sun we'll get all year: 21 hours, 49 minutes of sun today in Fairbanks. One must embrace it, because come December, it's definitely in short supply and probably 100º colder. But for now, we can hike and bike in t-shirts and shorts while we donate blood to the healthy mosquito population.
Second, in contrast, every day we gain more and more darkness back, starting with meager twilight, then full-on aurora viewing potential. Darkness means cooler temperatures, fall (the most beautiful time in Alaska), hunting seasons, and, eventually, the first snows and freeze-up, with the dancing aurora overhead.
Third, it's the perfect reminder that every season is to be looked forward to and taken advantage of, as they all have incredible features and benefits, as well as make many outdoor activities possible, especially so in Interior Alaska.

What do I do each solstice? The answer is almost saddening, but, nonetheless, I plan trips for the coming season, i.e., winter & spring/summer/fall.
Yes, 75º and here I am, planning biking and skiing trips for this winter. When I look back at winter solstice, I distinctly remember staring at maps and dreaming up hiking, biking, and packrafting trips for this summer.

I don't know what to say, but I know for now, I'll be out trying to capture every bit of summer I can, while it's still here.
Stay sane. Sleep outside.

I've got the June bug

It's a good time to be in Alaska.

Since Memorial Day, I have been busy:
- biked over half the Denali Hwy & drove the rest
- driven the entire Dalton Hwy, past the Arctic Circle, through the Brooks Range & over Atigun Pass, the highest pass in Alaska, and across the entire North Slope/Coastal Plain
- packrafted a small creek in the Arctic
- taken the bus in Denali National Park to Eielson Visitor's Center, seen Mount McKinley on a clear day, saw a lynx, two wolves, over a dozen grizzlies, caribou, & moose, hiked on the Savage & Teklanika Rivers
- went up a still-frozen creek and did some small scale ice climbing, rappelling, and frozen waterfall exploring
- hiked the 27.5 mile Pinnell Mountain Trail in just over 15 hours
- identified nearly one hundred blooming wildflowers
- seen multiple new species of birds (on my life list)
- watched the sun set for less than an hour
- popped one blister on my big toe :)
- was in the office for 1 day out of 13
- scored 10 straight days off work in July
- and, most importantly, taken some awesome photos, which I'll get around to posting soon.

Early morning hiking on the Pinnell Mountain Trail

Stay sane. Sleep outside.

In 2003, I worked as a volunteer interpretive ranger at Isle Royale National Park & Preserve, Michigan (www.nps.gov/isro). That summer, I hiked a total of 550 miles, setting foot on nearly every mile (165) of trail on the island.
The following summer, 2004, I returned for ten days to assist with moose and wolf research and completed the remaining miles of trail I had not hiked. The feeling of accomplishment and pure joy was beyond words. To have seen and experienced every step of trail on the island... I felt I had graduated and was bound for larger expanses, less traveled and more remote.
The summers of 2005-2007 brought me to Yukon Delta National Wildlife Refuge (Bethel, Alaska), where I volunteered the first two summers and was employed the third summer as a biological technician, assisting with gyrfalcon research in a large, isolated grouping of volcanoes located 40 miles inland from the Bering Sea and the farther inland Kilbuck Mountains; foothills of the Kuskokwim Range. Here, on the delta and amongst the low, extinct volcanoes, I hiked everyday and slept in a tent for up to 75 days at a time, 80 miles from Bethel, and 15 miles from the next closest person, other than the one person I was assisting.
Also in 2006, I had the opportunity to guide backpacking, rock climbing, and canoeing trips in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness in northeastern Minnesota for YMCA Camp Menogyn. While leading young teen boys on quests of self-discovery, we spent every night in sleeping bags, either on the shores of Lake Superior, high above inland lakes on cliffs we climbed earlier in the day, or on pristine lakes in the Boundary Waters.
2008 and 2009 found me employed as a backcountry ranger for Yukon-Charley Rivers National Preserve, based out of Eagle, Alaska. Here, I patrolled the Yukon River via motorboat and hiked and floated the surrounding hills and rivers, including the Charley River, a national wild river.
Lately (Fall/Winter 2009/10), I've been delving into extreme conditions camping, where I lay out my -40 degree sleeping bag and rest my eyes in the bite of the Arctic winter air and under the glow of the Aurora Borealis.
Where I'm going with all this is that in the past seven years, I have become very comfortable spending my nights in a sleeping bag. So much so, that I kept track of the number of nights I spent in a sleeping bag in 2008. From mid-April to November, I spent 100 nights either under the stars, in a tent, or in the bed of my truck, all in a sleeping bag. It is where I know the most peaceful rest, through all the wonderful memories I have acquired throughout the years of my adventures from Michigan to Alaska.
I strongly recommend you try it. But, I'll admit, I'm a little biased.