Day 26: Dancing on the Edge of the Norton Sound
Crossing the Sound
Photo Credit: Kendall Park
In the world of the Iditarod Trail Invitational 1000, this isn’t just a test of toughness—it’s a game of pacing, precision, and reading the landscape like it’s alive.
Because out here… it is.
The decision for our four bikers has continued to be a question of when to spend energy, and when to take advantage of opportunity. Rest is incredibly appealing, but narrow weather windows must be utilized if they are going to make it to Nome within 30 days.
Back at Unalakleet, the decision after a brief rest wasn’t just whether they should go or stay—it was about when to spend energy, and when to steal speed. After a two day push to get there against brutal, soul chilling headwinds, our bikers made a brave, difficult decision to make a break for Shaktoolik in hopes of crossing the Sound before the rumored impending weather advisory arrived.
Instead of pushing straight through, Kendall Park, Erik Basset, and Ryan Wanless leaned into strategy—they stopped in Shaktoolik and rested until 6:00 AM, timing their departure to align with that brief window. Not recklessly, but deliberately—like pushing chips to the center of the table when the odds briefly tilt in your favor.
The trail leading between Unalakleet and Shaktoolik felt almost generous. Baby blue skies stretched over a route shaped by generations of Indigenous travelers long before racers ever tested themselves here. It was the kind of day that lets you believe, just for a moment, that things might go smoothly.
“Smiling”
Photo Credit: Kendall Park
And then… they left Shaktoolik.
The coast is where the rules change. This stretch has a reputation—winds that don’t just blow, but hunt, sweeping from the north across the open sea ice with nothing to slow them down.
As Kendall, Erik, and Ryan rolled onto the Norton Sound, the world dissolved.
Not into darkness—but into something stranger.
A suspended, shifting veil of ice particles surrounded them, turning the landscape into something that felt pulled straight from Stephen King's “The Mist”. The sun was a faintly glowing orb behind the haze. With little to no visibility of the landscape around them, distance lied. The horizon had vanished.
It was disorienting in a way that felt almost supernatural.
Faintly glowing orb…
Photo Credit: Kendall Park
White Mountain
Photo Credit: Kendall Park
And yet—they flew.
“Stupid fast.” – Kendall Park
Because this was the moment to spend—the moment they had waited for in Shaktoolik. The moment to lean into momentum before the cost skyrocketed.
Right on cue, the world snapped back into clarity. The skies cleared to a crystal blue, lighting their arrival at the school in Koyuk—a warm, grounded counterpoint to the surreal crossing they had just completed. Inside: rest, quiet, and a warm welcoming message from the school’s residents.
Not far behind them was Maya Krause.
Maya left just an hour later than the others—but in Alaska, an hour can mean an entirely different experience.
What the three skimmed across only a few hours before her became something far more complicated. About two-thirds of the way into Maya’s push to Koyuk, the north winds picked up. Blowing snow settled and deepened. The clean, hard trail across the Sound turned into “Mad Max: Fury Road… but on sea ice.” – Maya Krause
Trail markers disappeared like they had never existed. Progress became uneven—ride, push, post-hole, repeat. The course had changed for the worse, just as predicted.
She arrived in Koyuk a few hours behind her fellow bikers.
School in Koyuk
Photo Credit: Mayella Krause
Her effort paid off when she pulled a lemon cake from her drop box—a bright little burst of sunshine after grinding for hours on a frozen ocean. Upon revealing the delightful treasure, Maya proclaimed, “we ride for cake.” It’s the little joys that keep a racer’s spirits high after weeks spent traveling across remote and difficult terrain.
Let them eat cake
Photo Credit: Mayella Krause
Back in Unalakleet, Gavan left around 12 PM Alaska time after spending 16 hours regrouping with Pizza on Earth and much-deserved rest. Now he’s walking back out into 20–30 mph winds and -40°F wind chills. His effort is a balancing act—how hard to push, how much to conserve, how to move efficiently in conditions that punish waste. As a foot athlete, he faces an even greater challenge: time. Thirty days is difficult in a good year, but it’s even more difficult in a year like 2026. Gavan’s strategy is survival mode—keep fingers and toes, get there in one piece. I think we can all agree that his will and fortitude are inspiring as the only foot racer still marching onward to Nome.
It’s the same distance for all racers, but depending on when they are where, it can be an entirely different world.
That world is continuing to shift.
The dreaded winter weather advisory is now in effect through Saturday at 7:00 AM across the Norton Sound—winds building to 45 mph, blowing snow, and wind chills plunging to -40°F to -50°F. Not just harsh weather—expensive. Every mile forward can cost more.
North of the Sound, the race continues to unfold like a long, moving puzzle for the bikers.
“The Fab Four,” who left Koyuk between 11:00 AM and 12:00 PM, are advancing toward Elim—where conditions are once again unforgiving and ever shape shifting the landscape around them.
This stretch between Koyuk and Elim may look subtle on a map, but it has long been a quiet, desolate guidepost. Along a coastline that can blur into sameness, features like the Kwik River help anchor movement—tiny clues in a landscape that doesn’t give much away.
Ahead lies Moses Point—once home to a small settlement and a vital stop along the coastal trail. In earlier days, roadhouses here offered warmth, stories, and a reset before continuing on. Now, it lingers more as a ghost of the trail’s past—a reminder that even in the harshest places, people have always found ways to pass through.
An update from Kendall tonight reveals our bikers have once again been consumed by relentless, disorienting winds sweeping along the coastline as they make their way past Kwik River.
Out here, success isn’t about brute force.
It’s about rhythm and resilience.
Knowing when to glide and when to grind. When to spend energy and when to protect it. When the trail is giving—and when it’s quietly taking.
Because the Norton Sound doesn’t stay the same for long.
And the ones who succeeded in traveling across it?
They’re not just strong (can we agree they’re actually Herculean?)—they’re also really damn smart and strategic… and occasionally, they’re flat-out outrunning the “mist” for the love of cake.
Written by: Rebecca McVay-Brodersen
Thanks to Wild Winter Women - Kari Gibbons, Amanda Harvey, Faye Norby, Jan Redmond Walker, Jessica Roschlan, Laura Wiesmann Hrubes, Allison Carolan, Leah Gruhn, Lynn K Hall, Madeline Harms, Rashelle Hintz, Rebecca McVay-Brodersen, and Sarah Bergstrom.