A lost dispatch

found today, in a batch of old files. It's a report I filed from a ski from Nenana to Nome with my friend Andy, many moons ago, at this time of year . . . 

KALTAG—My friend Andy and I just stepped off the Yukon River after gliding on its frozen back for the last eight days and 228 miles. We're now about halfway on our ski of the Serum Run trail from Nenana to Nome.

     I'm typing this column on an IMAC in the library of the school in Kaltag (home of the Wildcats). Teacher John Ford has been kind enough to open the teacher's lounge for Andy and I. A room's not easy to find in Kaltag these days. There's a Native "stick dance" tonight to honor the memory of a man who died, and the Iditarod mushers are approaching from the south, along the Yukon. More than 25 snowmachiners coming for the stick dance passed Andy and I between here and Nulato, where we stayed last night.

     Andy and I covered 36 miles today, after 48 yesterday. We've had good tailwinds on the Yukon (I think of them as gifts from my dad, who died this summer), and pretty good skate-skiing. Still, at the end of every day, I'm baked. Tired. Toast. I was a little under-trained for eight-hour days of skiing with a full backpack, but here I am.

     Tomorrow, after traveling on the Yukon and Tanana rivers for almost the entire trip, we will take the Iditarod trail southwest over the Kaltag portage and head for the coast of the Bering Sea and Unalakleet. That trip should take us three days. The trail will be broken and marked by four Iditarod volunteers who will stay near us in the Wildcats' gym tonight.

     The overland route will be a break from the Yukon, upon which we've skied since reaching the village of Tanana eight days ago. On good days, like today, we moved at the same speed at which the big river moves a canoe during summer, about seven miles per hour. On cold or snowy days that kill our glide, we've crawled as slow about 2 miles per hour. But as long as we're moving, we feel good.

     We are now halfway to Nome. It seems like such a long time ago that Andy and I walked away from his truck at the A-frame gas station in Nenana and skied down to the river. Since then, two weeks ago, we've met lots of good folks, such as Bill and Jan Sam, who fed us moosehead soup at their cabin outside Tanana, and Don Charlie, who put us up in a nice cabin at Old Minto when he didn't have to. We've also eaten multiple thousands of calories each day to power us down the trail. Smoked salmon

strips are my favorite trail snack; Andy likes animal crackers. I think he could eat them every day for the rest of his life and be quite happy.

     We're both still on our pins at the halfway point, ready for the adventure of tomorrow and the addictive excitement of seeing what's around the next corner. We're both hoping for good weather on the Bering Sea coast. We know the storms there can eat us alive, and we'll be moving slowly across that territory for at least 10 days once we reach Unalakleet.