Miron Golfman battled the Alaskan tundra to win one of the most spectacular races in the world on a Trek Farley 9.6
Photos by Nelson Brown (@nelson__brown)
480 miles from Nome, and what was supposed to be a 10-day trip suddenly looked like 20. A snowstorm created whiteout conditions, blanketing the trail in snow too soft to ride. At times along the ride, the windchill fell to negative-50 degrees Fahrenheit in the whipping wind. Miron Golfman is used to pushing his physical limits, but mentally, his head was “messed up.” And note, that’s a censored quote.
For 16 days, five hours and 10 minutes, he had little respite on the Iditarod trail. If any bit of skin was vulnerable to the wind, frostbite could set in immediately. “You can’t really stop,” Golfman said. “There’s nowhere to hide from the wind. And so the elements just really have you.”
Golfman won the 2024 Iditarod Trail Invitational 1000 alongside another rider, Tyson Flaharty. That’s 1,000 miles from Knik, Alaska, along the northern route of the famed Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race, all under his own power atop a Trek Farley 9.6. Golfman knew the event would be grueling; he won the 2023 event, setting the fastest known time on the southern route, and the year before he set the course record on the 1,700-mile Baja Divide. But even a hardy outdoor expeditionist like him nearly hit his breaking point.
Miron Golfman's geared up Farley.
“I was hoping it was not going to be that big of an event. It was my second time riding my bike to Nome,” Golfman said. “But I would say that this ended up being one of the most significant events that I’ve done to date.”
Months of preparation are necessary to even attempt a ride like the ITI 1000. Golfman struck up a friendship with Bill Fleming, owner of the Trek Bike store in Anchorage, at last year’s race, and Fleming helped him source the Farley. To subsist along the long, lonely route, Golfman had to send himself food resupply packages ahead of time to village waypoints, and he found that schools worked best because he could arrange with principals to keep the doors open after hours, unlike the local post offices.
Miron Golfman and Tyson Flaharty approaching the finish line in Nome.
Celebration and relief.
“It’s a bit more of an expedition than a race,” Golfman said. “And then the prep just becomes really refining your gear, your setup, your sleep system, your cook setup. And that is always going to be slightly different from person to person because everybody has different needs.”
The Farley needed only minor modifications to take on the ultimate test of its capabilities. Golfman removed the front brake and rode with just a left hand brake lever to give his hands more room in his pogies. On a relatively flat and desolate route, Golfman said the reduced braking power was fine, except for a few hairy instances when he had to put his foot down on some “bomber” hills. He also studded his own Bontrager Barbegazi fat bike tires.
Riding through low light.
Riding through the lonely and beautiful Alaskan landscape.
Golfman’s favorite feature of the Farley came stock. The fork rack mounts allowed him to carry a lot of gear (click here to watch Golfman run down his full setup) all while keeping his cockpit clear. Flaharty rode the race on a local brand, but swapped in the Farley fork so that he could take advantage of the rack mounts, too.
“I absolutely love the fork rack system. That was a game changer,” Golfman said. “The Farley itself, man, it did great.”
Here are Golfman’s full bike specs:
- Frame: Trek Farley 9.6
- Wheels: Nextei 96mm
- Drivetrain: SRAM GX 12 speed
- Brakes: Avid BB7 mechanical, rear only
- Tires: Bontrager Barbegazi tires with grip studs
- Old Man Mountain rear bike rack
The Farley's fork mounting system was clutch for the event.
Golfman's cockpit.
Having the right gear can only take a rider so far, however. There’s still the small matter of the merciless Alaskan tundra. Persevering from Ruby required a shift in mindset. Golfman went into the event thinking he might beat the ITI 1000 record of 10 days. He had to accept that getting to the finish line — no more, no less — was the best outcome he could hope for.
If he didn’t have Flaharty by his side, the event would have been even more grueling. The two rode together in 2023 for the first 350 miles of the race to McGrath, where Flaharty finished and Golfman rode the final 650 miles solo. They didn’t intentionally set out to ride together this year, but they knew they would likely be at each other’s level.
They ended up sticking together for every last pedal stroke. Both riders are capable of completing the ride solo, but together, the experience was much more enjoyable, and they were able to push each other and complete difficult stretches of the route more quickly than they would have on their own.
Socks off after a long day.
Golfman and Flaharty kept each other's spirits up on a grueling adventure.
“My personal philosophy, while I’ve had the privilege of winning a lot of cool events, I don’t really need that feeling of crossing the finish line by myself,” Golfman said. “And it makes a huge difference, especially in an event like this. It’s just objectively scary, especially as you get towards the end. The irony of this race is that it’s so long, the challenges and the objective danger continues to increase throughout, especially as you’re navigating the coastline out to Nome.
“And then just the feeling of loneliness. I mean, it’s such a long time to be out there by yourself. So it was great to have someone around.”
It wasn’t until the duo hit Koyuk, 123 miles from the finish, that the clouds started to part in Golfman’s mind. The trail, which had been so obfuscated and softened by snow that Golfman and Flaharty had to walk many miles of it, gradually became clearer. Golfman and Flaharty had each other to help grind away the final windy miles across the coast. Finishing the race no longer seemed in question.
Golfman rode in part to help raise awareness for a movement preserving Alaska's landscape.
The finish line.
For Golfman, finishing the race was about much more than the feat itself. He was also riding to promote the Defend the West Su movement, which is protesting a proposed industrial access road for mining companies that would cut through much of Alaska’s pristine landscape outside of Anchorage. As he rode, Golfman highlighted Alaska’s natural beauty on social media.
At his lowest, Golfman questioned whether he could push on. He kept moving forward due to a commitment to finish what he started, even if the terrain seemed determined to stymie his progress. Key to Golfman’s philosophy as an ultra-endurance athlete is a willingness to keep going even when he can’t reach his most ambitious goals. There’s more to endeavors like the Iditarod than accolades.
“What excites me on a personal level is to challenge myself and to explore the edges of human possibility,” Golfman said. “And those extremes, I find a very attractive concept.”
Parting shots of Golfman and Flaharty after an incredible journey.
In Ruby, Golfman and Flaharty came to accept that the extreme conditions of this year’s race would delay their planned arrival in Nome. With that shift in mindset, they cleared space in their heads to appreciate the majesty of the cold, white, indifferent landscape they’d been battling against.
Golfman rode to promote the preservation of that landscape. And for those 16 days, five hours and 10 minutes, his suffering highlighted its force and beauty. For a week afterwards, he was peeling skin off his fingertips and sleeping as much as he could to uproot the cold from his bones. It was a small price to pay for perseverance.
