Weather
The Yukon Quest trail is in the subarctic climate range. In Fairbanks, the average February temperature is −3.8 °F (−20 °C), but −40 °F (−40 °C) is not uncommon, and temperatures have dropped to −58 °F (−50 °C). An average of 7.3 inches (185 mm) of snow falls in February, with average snowpack depth of 22 inches (559 mm).
Outside the sheltered urban areas of Fairbanks, Whitehorse, and Dawson City, temperatures and snowfall are often more extreme. During the 2008 race, competitors started in −40 °F (−40 °C) temperatures in Fairbanks and then faced winds of 25 miles per hour (40 km/h) on the trail, resulting in severe wind chills. At higher elevations, such as the crossings of Rosebud and Eagle summits, whiteout blizzards are common. In the 2006 race, 12 teams were struck by a massive storm that eventually caused the evacuation of seven teams by helicopter. In 2009, mushers endured winds up to 50 miles per hour (80 km/h), blowing snow, and subzero temperatures atop Eagle Summit, where conditions had been even worse in a storm during the 1988 race, when wind chill temperatures dropped below −100 °F (−73 °C).
The extreme temperatures pose a serious health hazard. Frostbite is common, as is hypothermia. In the 1988 Yukon Quest, Jeff King suffered an entirely frozen hand because of nerve damage from an earlier injury which left him unable to feel the cold. King said his hand became "like something from a frozen corpse". In 1989, King and his team drove through a break in the Yukon River in −38 °F (−39 °C) temperatures. Frozen by the extreme cold, King managed to reach a cabin and thaw out. Other racers have suffered permanent damage from the cold: Lance Mackey suffered frostbitten feet during the 2008 Yukon Quest, and Hugh Neff lost the tips of several toes in the 2004 race.
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Famous quotes containing the word weather:
“Weather abroad
and weather in the heart alike come on
Regardless of prediction.”
—Adrienne Rich (b. 1929)
“When the weather is bad as it was yesterday, everybody, almost everybody, feels cross and gloomy. Our thin linen tents—about like a fish seine, the deep mud, the irregular mails, the never to-be-seen paymasters, and “the rest of mankind,” are growled about in “old-soldier” style. But a fine day like today has turned out brightens and cheers us all. We people in camp are merely big children, wayward and changeable.”
—Rutherford Birchard Hayes (1822–1893)
“The mark of the man of the world is absence of pretension. He does not make a speech; he takes a low business-tone, avoids all brag, is nobody, dresses plainly, promises not at all, performs much, speaks in monosyllables, hugs his fact. He calls his employment by its lowest name, and so takes from evil tongues their sharpest weapon. His conversation clings to the weather and the news, yet he allows himself to be surprised into thought, and the unlocking of his learning and philosophy.”
—Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882)