Pelly Farm: Oasis of Humanity

“I distinctly remember that first visit, despite over twenty years passing since then. I was scouting a route for a race that I wasn’t sure was even possible. I visited a small First Nations community in the heart of the Canadian Yukon called Pelly Crossing. A contact at Travel Yukon had suggested that a farm nearby could make a good checkpoint. I set off down this dirt road and eventually the track terminated at the farm and I pulled up outside. Dale and Sue were in a shed sorting through potatoes. I introduced myself. ‘Hi, I’m Robert from Germany and we want to run this race. In the winter…”

A pin on the map

While Pelly Farm is clearly so much more than a coordinate on a map, its location is intrinsic to both its past and present.  When Robert Pollhammer was scouting the route for what would eventually become the Yukon Arctic Ultra back in 2003, he had been inspired by the route of the Yukon Quest sled dog race and wanted to create a similar test of endurance, but one that was completed purely under human-power. The Yukon Quest was in turn inspired by the Klondike gold rush-era prospector routes and in time the trade and mail routes between the boom towns that cropped up along the way. Pelly Crossing was, as it sounds, a crossing point of the Pelly River. To give it its full name, Pelly River Ranch is the oldest working farm in the area, dating back to 1901. Dale and Sue are the second generation of Bradleys to farm cattle and vegetables on the 400 acres of land alongside a stretch of the river.. 

When Robert broached the idea of the race with the Bradleys, they were surprised, curious, but supportive. It was in their nature to be welcoming of visitors; not that they got many people ‘just passing through’ out there though. But, as well as raising their own son on the farm, they fostered countless others, and often hosted WWOOF volunteers (workers who stay on organic farms and swap labour for food and lodgings). The home of the Bradleys has long been home to many, many others. But now, it was to become the temporary home of racers and a mainstay of Robert’s race.

And out of all the times I talk or read about Pelly River Ranch, there is one word that is repeated over and over. Home.

“Dale and Sue are so relaxed. It’s hard to find people like that in the normal world. The farm is still operating as the race descends for those few days. There are still chickens and cows to feed. All the chores that a working farm needs to just keep ticking over. Back in the day, there were no tracking devices or satellite phones. There wasn’t even internet in the rural communities. The only communication that the farm had with the race was via radio. But even with that, racers would leave on an expedition and when they completed a leg they would reappear at a checkpoint. We can now obviously check the racer's progress in almost real time, so there’s alway a laptop open at the farm, and they’ll know exactly when someone is due to arrive.”

The 2024 edition of the race started on February 4th at 10:30am. Jovica Spajic – the first racer to complete the full race – reached Pelly Crossing on February 8th at 22:34. Four and a half days. Along the way he called into eight checkpoints; community centres, tents and even a restaurant. Only at Pelly Farm does he step inside a home. Dale sits at his desk. His laptop is open on the race’s tracking page. A single dot rests a little longer than at the other checkpoints. Watery daylight streams through the windows of the farmhouse. Time slows down a little. Minutes cease to matter when you have been moving for most of a working week.

John Nakel arrives tied in second place with Daniel Benhammou. They are almost two days behind Jovica Spajic, but over a day ahead of Purdue. Both are veterans of the race and Dale and Sue remember them instantly. As soon as they enter the door, their outer layers are stripped off and hung up to dry next to the boiler. They are guided into ‘the comfy chairs’ at the kitchen table. The drill is the same with every racer. Nakel can still remember the lasagne from last year “big enough to serve three in normal circumstances.” Then, overwhelmed by tiredness, they curl up for a couple of hours of sleep. Blissful sleep; warm and safe. No nagging cold. No frost forming on the outside of his bivvy bag. No slow reawakening of frigid, stiff muscles. But, for all of its sense of home, Pelly Farm isn’t the end destination. It too must be passed through.

“The hardest thing about Pelly Farm is leaving”, explains Nakel to me a week after the race. “But, you do so recharged and ready to complete the race. I’ve completed numerous ultramarathons and multi-day events over the last twelve years and never have encountered such an amazing place. It is warm and welcoming; it feels like home – it is someone's home.”

Contrast

Solitude and human connection feel distinct; contrasts, opposite ends of the spectrum. But to truly appreciate one, we need the other. Endurance racing is, and always will be, a selfish pursuit. It doesn’t solve problems or make the world a better place. Nor is it the solo endeavour that it might appear to be on the surface. Behind each racer is a family that has made compromises – and in the case of the Yukon Ultra, a team of volunteers who work tirelessly to keep competitors safe – in their pursuit of discovering what they are capable of.

And despite the apparent and real remoteness of the Yukon, racers are repeating a human journey that has been completed many times before, whether that be in previous editions of the race, while towed by sled dogs, or on the feverish charge for gold. The environment that they journey through may be harsh and dangerous, but the land is still the home to a few souls; communities that thrive and welcome. 

Every endurance racer has their moments of darkness. Anything truly worth achieving requires perseverance. But we tell ourselves stories to get us through those times. We focus on those we love. We focus on when it will all be over. We focus on the process. We focus on a goal, or step along the way. We grasp the moments that despite pain or exhaustion – or even because of them – remind us why we are out there… a conversation shared with a fellow racer, the first hint of light at sunrise after a long night, the discovery of a favourite snack lurking at the bottom of a feedbag. And the care offered by a complete stranger, asking nothing of you, possibly never seeing you again, but willing you to success.

Homeward bound

Nakel and Benhammou replace every layer and prepare to leave. The final step is completed outside. They don the harness to their sleds, adjust the straps and head off, walking through a graveyard of vehicles that flank the entrance to the farm. Snow creaks under their feet. Each step is deliberate and hard, but each step now takes them closer to the finish line.