The second weekend in March usually heralds the Pole, Pedal
and Pant race, a rather unique winter triathlon featuring
skiing, mountain biking and running. Depending on the snow
season and the weather conditions the event can be a completely
different race from year to year. The entire Nelson faction,
along with Abbi May, came out with Josie taking down first
place for the women and Grant coming in fourth for the men.
Per Nelson highlights his race experience this week: another
epic "battle" against his teammate and rival, Dave
Nelson.
It has been said that history doesn't repeat, it rhymes.
I agree, except sometimes it repeats.
Over the past three years I have made a big deal of
Dave Nelson's and my rivalry, particularly in the Pole Pedal
Pant winter triathlon. This year we took it to a new level.
We sucessfully duplicated, to very strict precision I might
add, our result from last year.
Race morning at the Nelson's Cabin in Fairbanks started
like any other: oatmeal, last minute preparations, loading
the vehicles, and navigating the snowy and icy driveway.
Margie and I were ready before the rest of the group, so
we began the journey first. Trouble was: we didn't get very
far. I had parked the Civic on a snowy, slight incline in
the driveway Friday night. I was pretty surprised when the
wheels began to spin just trying to back up downhill. My
surprise continued when the transformed snow proved to be
especially difficult to navigate. So much so that it was
necessary to have the 100% exertion of Dave, Josie, Grant,
Margie, Alex, AND Jenny to bull the compact front wheel
drive up the shallow inclined driveway to the road (it's
at least 1/8mi.).
Just as they had finally got me enough momentum pull
away and clear the crest of the last pitch (only to loose
it on the corner) I saw Dave and Grant break into a run;
"Your parking brake is on!" As we drove off (surprisingly
without me being dumped promptly and head first into a snowbank)
onto the highway, for the first time in our lives together,
Margie turned DOWN the heat in the car and stripped off
her jacket, "It's burning up in here."
Thirty years have taken their toll. It took me only
about 15 minutes to loose my bib. Fortunately Mr. John Filander,
in his contagiously upbeat persona solved the problem. He
gave me a new bib and a marker and told me to make a new
one. I took Margie's number plus one, scripted with uncharacteristic
clarity (John: "You could be an elementary school teacher"
Me: "If I had a dime for every time I've heard that,
I'd have a dime.") and then added a little trash talk
to the back under my number, "Dave: Eat My Dust!"
So we all had a good laugh, Dave's been kicking my butt
more handily than ever this year, and we went to the start
line.
The snow conditions were excellent. The season may be
pretty much done down in the Cities, at least outside the
artificial oases, but mid-season is an understatement up
in the north country. The Silver doesn't get any better.
Perfect coverage, firm enough that we could have ridden
the mountain bike leg on it and it would have held up better
than the Birkie, AND NO ICE!
The only thing different about the ski for Dave and
I this year was we both felt good. Just like last year:
I got out ahead at the beginning, Dave came up on me a few
K out, and we basically skied together the rest of the leg.
We biked out onto the road, and I straggled a little bit
putting down an Enervit gel. Then I got into gear and proceeded,
just like last year, to build what should have been an insurmountable
lead.
The mountain biking was not quite as prime as the skiing.
Most of the hills and corners had significant ice patches
which resulted in a lot of crashes and a lot of caution
and slower riding around corners. But the rest of the road
was dry, hard, and fast, and the snow pack in and out of
the stadium, especially early on, was nicely rideable.
The run is 5 km long; it is out and back on the Ridge's
access road. At the turn-around point I could see that Dave
was making quick work of my hard earned lead. I was beginning
to consider cutting the "eat my dust" up and eating
it with the spagetti dinner after the race as an act of
contrition. In fact, he was so close I all but conceeded
then and there. It took most of the run home before he caught
me. I settled in to try to hang on as we climbed the back
driveway and onto the snow. Somehow we were still together
by the downhill into the stadium and we started our sprint.
By this point I was confident. I took the inside of the
corner and found reserves of untold strength. Dave was not
relenting, however. We took the race right down to the wire,
(again, just like last year) and when we crossed neither
of us was willing to predict the result.
The Pole, Pedal, Pant is my favorite race of the season.
Thanks to Giants Ridge, Gear West, and especially my competitor
and friend Dave Nelson for another excellent repetition.
