The photo shows what we've been calling the Arctic thong: long underwear hanging out of snow pants.

Tim left White Mountain around 5:45 and we expect it will take 10 hours to get to Safety; once there, they'll presumably rest for 6 hours and then make the trek to Nome. God willing, we'll see him between 1 and 2 PM Alaska time on Tuesday. Again, I'd like to sincerely thank everyone for their encouragement and support throughout this amazing ordeal; it truly is uplifting and meaningful.

The volcano: nobody's flying anywhere today and the rumor mill is cranking full tilt. The National Forest Service peppered the town a.s.a.p. with flyers encouraging folks to visit their office and watch ice age videos "if you're in town for a few extra days and looking for something to do". In a risky move, I booked our flights out of Nome for Wednesday evening.

Saturday, Colleen and I flew to Nome after a terrific lunch of tea, beer and Zanax. We flew to Kotzebu first, which is in the Arctic Circle - and very, very treeless - and the flight afforded us a spectacular view of the sea ice; nature's shattered windshield on a grand scale. They unloaded case after case of Mug root beer, chest coolers and bananas from the plane; I know - I can't figure it out either. The runway is IMPOSSIBLY short in Kotzebu with a big...hill...at the end of the runway, so needless to say our landing and takeoff was exhilarating to the point of terrifying.

Nome. Beautiful, desolate, wind-swept and so much human vomit on the sidewalks and streets it leaves every fraternity latrine in the dust. Colleen noticed it's particularly dominant outside of the drinking establishments. The townsfolk even haul their spent Christmas trees to the frozen Bering Sea and take bets on when the pile will float away with the breakup. What's not to like? It really is a brilliant, blinding, white and blue landscape, rife with perhaps the heartiest, kindest souls I've met. And a reindeer that rides around in the back of a pickup, wearing an orange collar.

At the Finisher's Banquet Sunday night, Martin Buser joked that if Sebastian Schnuelle had won the race, he would have been pinned down and sheered (see musher photo on website), so it was a blessing Lance won. Then Sebastian got on stage to claim his prize and proclaimed that if he won next year, he WOULD shave his head...then, when it was Lance's turn at the podium, he declared that if he won again next year, HE would shave HIS head. Gloves off!

Okay, we have to grab a bite. More later.