**Snow blown trail**
Photo Credit: Kendall Park

The plan—at least in theory—was for the four remaining riders, Kendall Park, Mayella Krause, Erick Basset, and Ryan Wanless, aka “The Fab Four,” to stick together as they left Koyuk for Elim. Gavan Hennigan was still toiling alone on foot, marching into the north winds along the coast toward Norton Bay, while the two-wheeled crew hoped to move as a small, stubborn fleet, with the winds pushing them sideways toward the shore. But the trail between Koyuk and Nome has never cared much for human plans. It’s an old corridor, older than the villages it connects, shaped by storms and stories and the memory of dog teams that once carried medicine and mail across its frozen vertebrae.

So naturally, the winds rose again. A weather advisory living up to its reputation.

**A foot down moment during a long day**
Photo Credit: Kendall Park

By the time they reached the Kwik River shelter cabin, the gusts were sweeping snow sideways, erasing tracks as quickly as they were laid. The group had to choose: push on into the teeth of it, or wait it out in the cabin’s wooden embrace. Trackers later showed the split—some pressed forward, stubborn as driftwood; Ryan, in a rare stroke of trail “luck” (it’s not luck—Ryan knows his stuff), chose patience.

Ding ding ding. Swish.

While the others leaned into the wind, Ryan settled in, letting the storm burn itself out. When he finally rolled onward, the rest of the ride unfolded quietly, almost tenderly—as if the trail, having tested him, decided to offer a small kindness. He was greeted in Elim with a chicken teriyaki rice bowl and a warm snuggle spot in the school gym. Timing is a fantastically fickle thing.

**The glowing, welcoming warmth of Elim Aniguiin School**
Photo Credit: Kendall Park

This morning—together again—they all slipped out of Elim around 8:00 a.m., heading toward Golovin. The trail between the two villages rolls over gentle hills and frozen riverbeds, with a view of White Mountain in the distance.

Today, the promise ahead was enticing: a warm meal, a visit with Ryan’s friend Frank, and—if rumors are true—moose on the menu.

For the front group, the finish line likely feels as close as it does far… The bikers now have five days left and less than 100 miles to go—a distance that looks manageable if they continue moving well, but in an Alaskan winter, nothing comes easy. Every mile still has to be negotiated, earned, respected.

**A long gradual climb**
Photo Credit: Kendall Park

Meanwhile, the broader race continues to shift under the weight of weather. Winds hit 30 mph yesterday, sweeping the Norton Bay clean, snow erasing tire tracks almost as quickly as they pass through the drifted sections.

Race officials made the call to hold dog teams in White Mountain earlier today. With 50 mph winds ripping through the Topkok blowholes, sending them out would’ve been reckless. They’ll release them in the morning, when the land softens its mood. Our bikers are nearly 15 miles from White Mountain, but the winds are expected to die down, with temperatures rising tomorrow to a more manageable level in the teens.

Further back, Gavan reached the Foothills cabin around 11 p.m. last night and gave himself some well-earned R&R. He’s been mostly consistent when he’s moving—two miles per hour, hour after hour, sure and steady. He made it to Shaktoolik just after 4 p.m., having left the Foothills cabin just after 8 a.m. this morning. He will likely rest before making his push across the Bay, with hopes the winds will have mercy on him.

He’s still got roughly 200 miles to Nome. A different race entirely. Less about chasing the finish now, more about staying intact long enough to reach it.

The cold deepened overnight, wind chills dropping to -50. At that point, every exposed inch of skin becomes a negotiation. Every pause has consequences. And then there are the blowholes—those sudden, violent bursts of wind that fall off the mountains like invisible avalanches. One moment calm, the next a sideways punch.

This stretch of the Norton Bay doesn’t just test endurance. It tests awareness, restraint, and the ability to keep moving without burning the last match you’ll need later.

But tucked inside all that hardship are the small, bright things that keep racers going: a shelter cabin when the wind howls, a hot bowl of teriyaki after a long night, a friend waiting in Golovin, a rumor of moose stew… and a strip of candied bacon or a bite of cobbler that somehow feels like everything.

Little pockets of warmth on a trail that asks so much.

Every mile has to be earned—but every mile also brings them closer to the stubborn, joyful accomplishment of reaching one’s desired destination, Nome.

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.

Day 27: Along the Spine of the Sea