Iditasport athlete recounts experience

In the 1999 Iditasport Extreme race, which was then 320 rough and cold miles from Knik to McGrath, Patty Jo Struve of Truckee, Calif., then 43, was the only woman to finish. Finishing, she acknowledged, was a struggle.

Back home in California after the race, Struve wrote her friends: "I finished the race after seven-plus long days. It was by far the hardest event I have ever completed in my lifetime as an athlete. There were many times I had to push my bike through deep snow and many times I had to ride my bike in horrible head winds and extreme cold temperatures."

With 27 starters but only 14 finishers in the race, Struve has a right to be proud of making it through — and making it in 10th place — one of the toughest bike races in the world. "There were a few times when I felt I was going to die, but knowing God, He still kept me and encouraged me along the way," Struve wrote after the ordeal was over.

Struve travels worldwide, entering bicycle, snowshoe, and ski races as well as triathlons — both as an individual, and as part of her Lake Tahoe-based team, the "Killer Wails."

In the following interview, Struve tells about her experience in the Iditasport Extreme race, as well as her life as a mountain bike racer:

Q. What advice would you give to those who want to participate in the Extreme race?

A. There are things you have to have. You need to talk to people who have done it who are willing to tell [you] information. Train for at least a year, or eight months minimum. Be able to deal with sleep deprivation. [Know] proper clothing, proper weight distribution on [your] bikes, and practice [with the weight distribution].

Q. What training would you recommend for this race?

A. During training, do strength training of the upper and lower body. Do over-distance training, which means to go out and ride for eight hours on your bike in snow. For the Iditasport Extreme, you need to do it once every two weeks starting in November. Do internal training, lots of uphill training on bike, snowshoes, and skis. Do lots of cross training. Cross training is really important because of the amount of hiking and walking we had to do. Someone who hadn't done any of that was probably really hating [his or her] life!

Q. What kind of emotions did you experience during the race?

A. With the Extreme, it was more emotionally and mentally harder than physically because I knew I was physically prepared, but emotionally there was a lot I wasn't ready for. But each time I overcame that emotion I felt stronger. When I came into Skwentna I burst into tears, and I asked Margriet (one of the trail checkers, traveling on snowmachine) if that was normal, and she said yes.

In the Extreme, the only time I had fun was getting to know the people before the race. (I also enjoyed) the sections where I could ride, which were every other day. Anytime I could ride my bike I was a happy camper. But when I couldn't ride, I hated it. I was screaming and yelling at whoever was with me or at God because I was mad at not being able to ride my bike.

Another fun part of the Extreme was the camaraderie — hanging out with people at the aid stations, getting to know the people who were taking care of us and the people who waited for us at the airport and at the end of the race. That part was cool.

The whole fun thing with me — that would be one of the reasons I wouldn't go back. If they could promise me I'd have a freeway to ride on like they had last year.

Q. What do you mean by "freeway?"

A. Last year they got to bike everything except Rainy Pass and on (because the trail was frozen over throughout). The times were two days different. John Stamstad (the Iditasport Extreme winner every year throughout the sport's history, from 1996 to 2000), finished it in three days eight hours in 1998 and in 1999 it was four days 22 hours. Last year [the snow] was packed, and they didn't get a snowstorm halfway through the race. We got everything (in 1999). We had warm the first two days, then we got snow, then we got ripping snow, 30 below zero, from Rohn on to McGrath.

Q. Can you tell us about being out on the trail? Give a story to show what it's like?

A. I had to sleep out the second and third nights. The second night because my headlight battery didn't work. I didn't have an extra battery. Everyone left me. I couldn't go past 12:30 in the morning. I couldn't find the trail. I had to get off at a little store that had Christmas lights and sleep by the store.

The next morning, I slept way too long — seven hours — and I left and went to Skwentna. Then when Willy (Mulonia) and I left Skwentna at 5 a.m. We pushed our bikes until 2 a.m. I told him I couldn't push anymore and I had to sleep.

The second day we went 20 miles out of our way. I followed those guys; we followed the Iditarod trail. But that particular day we weren't supposed to. That was really disheartening. Pat (Norwil) was saying you'll get to Skwentna the second night, so that's why I kept the battery there. That really screwed up my mental [attitude]. "Patty, you got to keep a good mental attitude," Chloe (Lanthier, the only other female competitor) said.

I will come back and do the Iditasport — the 100-mile race — next year.

The parts where I could ride were really fun, but there were a couple times I thought I was going to die. When we left Rainy Pass and passed the so-called avalanche, once again I had the wrong pants on, so my legs were getting really cold, and the wind was blowing really hard, and I couldn't eat or drink because I was cold, because I didn't want to stop or take any clothes off. Willy and Juan Carlos (Najaro) led us through that section. They went ahead and blocked the wind. We couldn't find the trail or ride. When we stopped, they would rub my legs and tell me to drink, and Willy gave me water and they gave me hand warmers. The tops of my hands were really cold.

Q. Did you ever try to quit?

A. There was a time I tried to quit, but when I got to Finger Lake, Chloe was there, and I thought I was so far behind, and I didn't want to push my bike for the rest [of the race]. I was kind of encouraged when I saw her there. She told me the next section — Finger Lake to Rainy Pass — was going to be a lot of pushing. So then I was freaked out about that, but then someone said I had to wait for Willy, because they recommended that we didn't do that section by ourselves.

(It turned out that) the next section was the funnest part of the whole race, because it was like riding a technical field track. It was rideable — the whole thing! John Stamstad had to push through it, but it was packed when I went through. It took me nine hours, John 10, and Chloe 12. We made up lost time along the way.

Willy and Juan Carlos left at 3 a.m., but they were being girls, fixing their bikes — they were terrible that way. We'd get ready and sign out, (but) they'd take too long fiddling with their bikes. But I love those guys — they were a kick.

Rainy Pass was snow up to your knees; [we were] flailing around through there. And the sun was coming up so there was hope, you know what I mean? I freaked out when I thought it was four miles to Rohn and they said it was 40 kilometers. I was definitely going to quit. That was after we got out of Rainy Pass. But that was a fun and beautiful section, and we got to ride so it was fun. It was (also) very pretty — canyon, funky trees, rivers, ice glaciers.

Q. You mentioned the other racers quite a bit in that story. How important were they to your staying in?

A. After Chloe quit, Juan Carlos was making me (stay in the race). I think his encouragement [helped]. "You're such a strong woman," he'd say. "No, you're not going to drop out; we're not going to let you. . . .

Even though it took me forever to get to the finish line, I got there. You set goals and meet them. This race challenged that more than any other race (and) I've done some pretty nifty hard stuff.

Q. Like what?

A. The Iron Man, triathlon, twice. I was a triathlete before a biker. I started out as a marathon runner when I was 23. I never ran in high school. My roommate was a coach, and he was a really good runner. I was fat — I weighed 185; now I'm 145. I wanted to lose weight. He said, "Well, start running." Within a year I was running 42-minute 10Ks, which back then, 1979, was really respectable.

[But back then] I was more obsessed [about sports]. I completely gave up my life to being a runner. I would run 100 miles a week. Then I got some injuries and some rude awakenings. I [decided I needed] some balance in my life.

After I got injured, I was trying to train for the Olympic trials in 1984, and my Achilles tendon was ripped off my ankle. So then I swam and rode a bike to heal. (Then I realized): Oh, I can do all three of these things together! So then I started training to do it.

Q. What changes have you noticed over the years in yourself?

A. Aging. I think that I am not as fast as I used to be, but then this year I got faster. I don't know. I don't recover as fast. I've had a bad neck, shoulder, and elbow injury because I was hit by a car. I was walking across the street, an old guy with the sun in his eyes hit me. I have a lot of scar tissue damage in my neck and compression fractures. That is something I'm trying to overcome, and the cycling is hard on those. A lot of it must be will power and high pain tolerance. Mentally I say it doesn't hurt today and get over it, and I am in in physical therapy every week for it.

Q. What kind of personality would you say is "extreme"?

A. It's that overachiever thing. Up until a couple years ago, I think the people in those races were very cool, very mellow, not that competitive. Extremists are more mature mentally; it's like when I came back and the little kids I teach asked, "What did you get for a prize?" and I said, "Absolutely nothing." But better than a prize you can put on your wall is understanding my mental and physical capacities beyond what I've ever done before. Also the camaraderie. It's about the achievement and what happens 20 years from now, about what I tell my grandkids, you know — "I did this really adventurous thing."

Q. As one of the few women in the world who do this kind of thing, do you feel like an elite athlete?

A. No, because pretty much anyone could do it if they wanted to. I am not extra gifted in this. Being humble is really important. There's always somebody there, and you're only a hero for a day.

Q. Would you do the Extreme again?

A. I'm the kind of person who, when I go do an event, if I had dropped out it would have devastated me, and there were a million times I wanted to drop out. I get into it too much, and to put that much time and money into an event on that scale . . . I'd rather do something different. I'd rather go to Australia and do the Crocodile Classic, which is a 10-day mountain bike stage race (that means you do 10 days and each day you do a different distance — 150 kilometers, 400 kilometers. Each day you ride for that distance and rest up.)

Struve did return to Alaska for the 2000 Iditasport (not the Extreme) race. After the Extreme race, she wrote her friends: "Seek after your passions; they may only come like this once in a lifetime."

The Iditasport course:

The course of the Iditasport Extreme begins at Knik Lake, birthplace of the Iditarod Sled Dog Race, and follows the Iditarod Trail 350 miles to McGrath. The first 30 miles crosses the Little Susitna River and continues to the first checkpoint at Flathorn Lake, where a mandatory campout will be enforced at a surprise location. The race resumes the next day at 8 a.m., with racers going out in the time and order they arrived at the checkpoint the previous day.

The course finds its way to Susitna River and up the Yentna River to the Yentna Station checkpoint (Mile 60). The trail continues up the Yentna River another 30 miles to the Skwentna Roadhouse checkpoint (Mile 90). Leaving the river systems, the course then heads overland into the Shell Hills to the Shell Lake Lodge optional checkpoint (Mile 105). There the trail begins to climb into the foothills of the Alaska Range, coming to the Winter Lake checkpoint at Finger Lake (Mile 130).

From Finger Lake, the course becomes more remote. Winding up ravines, down into Happy River, and finally above tree line to the checkpoint below Rainy Pass (Mile 165). From the Rainy Pass checkpoint, the trail actually climbs another 15 miles before descending down the hazardous Dalzell Gorge and into the Rohn Roadhouse checkpoint (Mile 210). It is a long 90 miles to the Nikolai checkpoint (Mile 300), proceeding through Farewell Lake and the desolate Farewell Burn.

The final 50 miles winds in and out of the Kuskokwim River to the finish in McGrath.

Solo racers must choose either foot, ski, or bike, and stay with their choice of disciplines the whole distance. Adventure teams (four-person, at least one of whom must be female) will bike to Finger Lake, ski from Finger Lake to Rohn, and go on foot from Rohn to McGrath. All racers will be timed to the mandatory campout at Flathorn Lake.

All racers must carry their camping gear the whole distance.

Two-hundred racers are expected to compete. Racers will be required to sign in and sign out at checkpoints; members of adventure teams must leave the checkpoints together, as a team. Racers are allowed three drop bags weighing no more than 20 pounds each to be shipped out onto the course.

Solo racers will have drops at Skwentna (Mile 90), Rainy Pass (Mile 165), and the McGrath finish. Adventure teams will have drops at the bike/ski transition at Finger Lake (Mile 135), the ski/foot transition at Rohn (Mile 210), and the McGrath finish.