COLD COMFORTS
SO WHAT DO YOU NEED to survive 1,000 miles in the Alaska tundra? Hewitt, a 62-year-old lawyer from Greensburg, Pennsylvania, has a pretty good idea. Hewitt has completed the Iditarod Trail Invitational an unsurpassed nine times in the past 15 years and in
SLED (SEE P66)
Hewitt’s handmade sled is 60cm wide and 48cm long, weighs 1.5kg, and is made of ultra-high-density polyethylene ( he named it Cookie, after a husky in a children’s book). He pulls it using a homemade hip-harness that’s connected to the sled by a rope covered in flexible PVC pipe for protection against the elements.
BASE LAYER
For 20 days, Hewitt’s tights and long-sleeve top never come off. Once he finishes, they go straight in the bin (much to his wife’s relief). Over his tights go insulated shell pants.
NECK GAITER
‘This is one of my secrets,’ he says. ‘ Your neck is where your core heat is going to escape from because all the blood that goes to your brain goes through your neck. If you add clothing there, your whole body will warm up.’ So when his feet get cold, the gaiter goes on. On his head go a cap, up to two balaclavas (including one that’s windproof), a headlamp, sunglasses, goggles and lip balm.
FOOD AND DRINK
In 2010, Hewitt pulled all his supplies for the entire trek (as opposed to having drop bags along the route). His sled weighed 50kg, 9kg of which was crunchy peanut butter. In a typical day, he torches nearly 15,000kcals and consumes at least 8,000. He also carries drink mixes, freeze-dried meals, jerky, bars, beans, nuts, sweets, gum and chocolate.
FOAM SLEEPING PAD
Sleeping on top of his sled saves Hewitt time pitching a tent, and the pad is a very necessary buffer. He’ll park the sled perpendicular to the wind and sleep in threeto four-hour increments. If it’s too cold, he’ll continue moving to keep his core temp up. Perpetually exhausted, he’s been known to fall asleep standing up.
DOWN PARKA
Because down makes him sweat, Hewitt wears this only when he’s not moving or needs to raise his body temperature. Upon waking, he’ll often throw on the parka and run with his sled until he’s warm enough to get fully dressed and packed up. ‘I put my freezing shoes on and don’t try to lace them, I don’t try to organise anything, I just get moving,’ he says. He typically wears some combination of a lighter-weight jacket, fleece and/or vest.
GPS
Natural barriers such as streams and hills cause the trail to meander, which can make using a GPS a frustrating business. Hewitt often relies more on personal experience and advice from locals. But when he got stuck in a blowhole at night, it was his GPS that got him out.
SNOWSHOES AND POLES
Both help him navigate snow up to six feet deep.
DOWN SLEEPING BAG
Hewitt’s bag is functional to -50C, but that doesn’t mean he’s toasty when it gets that cold. It just means he ‘ won’t die’. Most mornings, Hewitt has to shake off the ice that forms when his body heat permeates the outer shell of the bag.
TRAIL SHOES
Hewitt wears two pairs of Drymax socks and insulated sole inserts, so his Montrail trail shoes are one size bigger than his standard running shoes. He wears gaiters over his shoes to keep the snow out, and on the bottom of each sole he installs 10 carbide screws for traction. One year, he sliced a layer of skin from one of his toes after it turned black with frostbite midrace. Now more sensitive to falling temperatures, that toe signals that his body is about to get (really) cold.
CAMP STOVE
It takes Hewitt 30 minutes to melt enough snow to create 3,000ml of water, which lasts him 24 hours. His kitchen also includes a titanium pot and lid (and spork), an insulated mug, white gas (Coleman fuel), an insulated water-bottle holder and three packs of windproof and waterproof matches.
MITTS
To regulate his temperature, Hewitt constantly removes one or both of his outer mitts in a process he calls ‘heat dumping.’ The liner stays on – a lesson he learned the hard way after losing ‘a good amount’ of skin after his bare hand brushed a metal gas can.