#Patagonia houdini air Patch#
#Patagonia houdini air series#

(I made the error of allowing about a quarter inch of nose tip to protrude from beneath the second strip.)įrom the waist down, the layers were fewer.

At the community center, I added a half-wide strip of dark blue duct tape across the bridge of my nose and tops of both cheeks, and a second smaller strip near the tip of my nose. On my hands were ancient, tattered pile-fleece mittens, each containing two hand-warming chemical heat packs - one for each set of four fingers, and one for each thumb. Yvonne Leutwyler helps bundle Clark Fair for the cold, including tape across the nose and cheeks to prepare against frostbite. Over my head went a fleece neck gaiter and a thin Buff. Inside the pack were snack bars, tiny earmuffs, toilet paper, a headlamp, a paper painting mask and some matches. On my back, I carried a CamelBak hydration pack with a half-full, 100-milliliter reservoir and a feeder tube, the end of which I stuffed beneath the outer three layers of clothes. From the waist up I wore an ultralight, long-underwear-style T-shirt, a medium-weight North Face long-sleeved running shirt, an old lightweight fleece long-sleeved hiking shirt, a thin down-filled Patagonia jacket, and an ultralightweight Patagonia Houdini shell.

#Patagonia houdini air Patch#

We would run the width of Willow Lake, a quarter mile of back road, a pond-and-swamp system known as Emsweiler Lake, nearly the full length of the aptly named Long Lake, up and down a small hill to reach and cross Crystal Lake, then another swamp to gain access to the full length of Vera Lake, and a patch of woods leading to the Willow Swamp, where a well-insulated Dave would be waiting at the half-marathon turnaround point with a bonfire, a clipboard to record bib numbers, a few samples of GU, some water, emergency gear and a smattering of extra clothes.Īfter breakfast (a cup of yogurt with half of a banana and some whole-wheat cereal, chased down with two cups of hot coffee), the layering began. The route had been constructed and groomed with snowmachines operated by members of the Willow Trail Committee, and the trails had firmed up nicely in the subzero weather.

(The marathoners, obviously, were the real crazy ones.) The rest would be running the full-meal deal - 26.2 miles, all the way to a tiny island on Red Shirt Lake (in the Nancy Lake State Recreation Area) and then back again. This would be the longest run of my life - if I made it - and, by far, the coldest.Ībout 50 percent of the 31-person field would be joining us for the half-marathon.

#Patagonia houdini air series#

We planned to run in it.įor Yvonne and I, that meant 13.1 miles of ice and hard-packed snow mainly across a series of low-lying lakes, starting at the Willow Community Center on the western shore of Willow Lake. They would have cranked up wood stoves, snuggled under wool blankets or wiggled their tootsies inside of fuzzy slippers - but not us. Normal, rational people would not have ventured outside on a day like this. We were about three miles from the race venue and at least four hours from sunrise. The clear dark skies were pinpricked with stars. At 6:30 a.m., their outdoor thermometer read minus 32 degrees. 22 inaugural Willow Winter Solstice marathon/half-marathon. My running partner, Yvonne Leutwyler, and I had spent the night with friends (and race organizers) Andrea Hambach and Dave Johnston in Willow for the Dec. I awoke at 4 o’clock on the morning of a race and struggled to get back to sleep because I was worried about whether I was capable of finishing the event, and, given the conditions outside, whether I was capable of even surviving. Yvonne Leutwyler, of Soldotna, and Clark Fair, of Sterling, complete the Willow Winter Solstice Half Marathon on Dec. Photos courtesy of Andrea Hambach, Willow Running Company.