Kendall and Maya organize food and hand warmers in the Cripple checkpoint (photo: Ryan Wanless)

Today, our six racers in the ITI 1,000-mile race arrived in the community of Ruby, on the bank of the Yukon River!! This is a tremendous milestone: reaching the Yukon after a particularly arduous trip through the challenging, isolated 200 miles they have been traveling. This section is often considered one of the hardest sections in the race, and this year was even more challenging. The most snowfall in recent memory, combined with essentially no traffic on the trail, led most people (racers and dot-watchers alike) to believe the trail was impassable due to thigh-deep, soft snow. Additionally, they were out in temperatures as low as -50 deg F. These six racers were not only exceptionally driven and hard-working, but also patient to wait for the appropriate window to make the trip. They kept the faith that it was possible, and they made it happen. Tonight, we commend and congratulate them!

How cold has it been? The National Weather Service in Fairbanks is reporting that this year, the period Feb 25 - Mar 11 is the coldest EVER recorded in Fairbanks (230 miles to the east of Ruby), with an average temperature of -20 deg F. Those dates roughly coincide with the dates when our ITI racers have been in the interior. So when we say it’s cold, understand that it’s the coldest stretch on record for the area.

Once racers arrive in Ruby, there are two lodging options: the Wild Iris B&B or the public school. The school has a kitchen and a kettle, white gas to fill the depleted stores, showers, and a classroom floor to spread out wet clothes and get some shut-eye. After talking with Ryan Wanless today, Emily Wanless reported that the school was bustling - The lead dog teams were arriving as well, which means lots of people and noise and not much rest. It will only get busier as the day goes on. Hopefully, the shop classroom they set up for the racers offers a little peace and quiet.

Today, mushers in the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race were streaming past the racers all day. They will likely continue to do so for another day or two.

Tonight, we hear from racers in their own words, in order of their arrival in Ruby -

Ryan Wanless (Sioux Falls, South Dakota, bike) - Tonight, Ryan’s wife posted the following after his 27-hr push through the night to get to Ruby:

“Just working our way through the checklist…

Extreme weather - check! (Ryan: “I feel like it’s been -30 for like 10 days straight!”)

Bike mechanical - check! (Ryan: “Troy was great. I had all the tools I needed. It was the second set of hands that made it work.”)

Dog sled encounters - check! (Ryan: “I think Millie the Mushroom just passed me!” Also, Mushroom is not a nickname, but rather a failed talk-to-text.)”

Gavan Hennigan (Galway, Ireland, foot) - Sometimes, when the going gets tough, it can be helpful to remind yourself why you thought this was a good idea and what motivated you to be here. Prior to the race, Gav wrote that he came to be captivated by the historic trail and the historic ITI race, and that he was most looking forward to being alone.

Troy Szczurkowski (Daisy Hill, Australia, bike) - When asked what he would rather deal with, Troy indicated he’d rather have deep snow instead of rain, blizzards, or high winds. I wonder if he still feels that way. On the trail, he was most looking forward to the silence; dancing alone at 2 am on the Yukon; swearing at snow. Finally, he said he loaded the family up with two months' worth of dad jokes before he left home for Alaska. Hopefully, we can get our hands on some of those jokes.

Kendall Park (St. Louis, Missouri, bike) - Kendall has been making super steady progress since the Iditarod trailbreakers passed through. Like other racers, she has been challenged by mechanical issues, particularly with her bike rack, but last we heard, she had it secured. A lifelong learner, she is working on her French language skills with Erick and hopes to be fluent by the time they reach Nome. Bon courage, Kendall!

Erick Basset (Caen, France, bike) - We are not sure exactly sure when our in-house French instructor arrived in Ruby, since he lost his tracker a couple of days ago. We were informed that he is expected to pick up a new tracker at the next checkpoint in Galena. When asked what he would rather deal with, Erick indicated he’d rather have rain instead of deep snow, blizzards, or high winds. Unfortunately, he’s had all of the most challenging conditions possible except for rain. On the trail, he looked forward most to the northern lights and the wolves' song. His preparation and planning for ITI were challenging because there is no snow where he lives in France. He trains by bike on the beach, and he rode a bike for the first time (!) on snow just a week before the race started.

Mayella Krause (Sao Bento do Sul, Brazil, bike) - Maya’s explanation of her motivations to race the ITI is as follows:

“The winter ultra world is small yet full of people who understand the hunger to move through a world where a single mistake can kill. We don’t just endure the wilderness; we seek it out, craving the silence where we meet the hardest parts of ourselves. There’s a strength that comes from standing shoulder to shoulder with people who understand this madness.”

“We know what Alaska and ITI means to us…. the way it carves you down to your core and leaves something purer behind.

“I love being surrounded by “my people”... those who crave not comfort but the raw, unfiltered edge of existence. ITI is a reckoning with the self, a pilgrimage where mind and muscle are pushed beyond what most would call sane. To move through this desolate beauty, where snowdrifts rise like ghosts and the night stretches endless, is to strip away the excess until only resolve remains. It’s not strength alone that carries you across unforgiving miles—it’s the grit that gnaws at doubt and spits it out, the quiet voice that says “trust your struggle” when the body screams for warmth and rest. And yet, there’s a strange solace out there, in the company of others who understand this pull, this need to confront the wilderness and be remade by it. We are forged in frost and fatigue, bound not by words but by the shared knowledge that survival out here is a conversation between will and wilderness, and only those who listen make it through.

“Out there, cold is not just a temperature—it is a measure of will. It strips away the unnecessary, whispering “quit, quit” with every breath that crystallizes in the air. The fatigue burrows deep, settling into the marrow, an old companion you learn to carry like the weight of the miles behind you. Pain is not a fleeting thing—it is constant, layered, evolving. These are not obstacles but conditions of existence in a place like this. And yet, you move. Because stopping is not an option.

“The loneliness is vast, an expanse as endless as the snowfields, and in that solitude, there is no escaping yourself. The silence stretches wider than the sky, and you find yourself speaking to the wind, to the wolves, to your hallucinations. Stripped raw by the conditions and the distance, you are forced to reckon with yourself. No distractions. Just you and the thing you swore you would do. And you do it—not for glory, not for praise, but because some part of you refuses to live a life that is small. Because you do not wish to stand at the edge of existence and wonder what lies beyond. You do it because you can.”

Stay tuned for more updates and stories from the trail, the next of which is coming tomorrow night.

Written by Leah Gruhn

Thanks to Wild Winter Women - Allison Carolan, Amanda Harvey, Faye Norby, Jan Redmond Walker, Jessica Roschlan, Kari Anne Gibbons, Laura Wiesmann Hrubes, Lynn K Hall, Madeline Harms, Rashelle Hintz, Rebecca McVay-Brodersen, and Sarah Bergstrom.

Day 20 - Milestone Reached and In Their Own Words