SOMBA K'E/YELLOWKNIFE
Although standing between three Yellowknifers and the Woodyard Brewhouse and Eatery was four-and-a-half days and 250-kilometres of piercing cold and other perils, it remained a worthy destination.

"There's no way we would have done it this fast otherwise," said Damian Panayi, one of three skiers who flew to Lutsel K'e April 8 and made their way back across the frozen lake to the city - and specifically the brew pub - the evening of April 12.

The trio had few luxuries on the trip, including a second pot, said Brett Wheler, allowing them to cook their food and boil water independently - a lesson learned from previous trips.

"Having pasta residue in your water all day is horrible for morale," said Wheler who, in 2013, was reported to be the first person to solo cross-country ski across Great Slave Lake.

Endurance trips aren't exactly new to the group.

Wheler and Panayi have skied from Yellowknife to Blachford Lodge in previous years, and out to the North Arm on another trip. Mike Palmer, who was out of town for the interview, previously kite-skied to the East Arm but Wheler and Panayi laugh that it turned out skiing was just as fast - having come by bad winds on his earlier effort.

"Every spring it's sort of an opportunity to go explore on the lake or on canoe routes, but skiing," says Wheler. The lake is still frozen and the skiing is still good but one isn't seeing the temperature drop as drastically low as in some of the darker months of winter.

When he first received a text from Palmer one midnight last July that said, "Next spring, Lutsel K'e," Wheler was hesitant to commit. Panayi also had plans to "scale it back" this year.

What changed? Peer pressure, he says.

"It's just so cool to say you've done it," Panayi says.

The three flew into Lutsel K'e around lunchtime, with a friend of Wheler's meeting them at the airport. After a lunch of bannock and fish, they headed to the shore.

In terms of distance, Wheler says the trip, about 250 kilometres, wasn't all that much longer than the loop they've done before to Blachford. The difference is the exposure to elements on the big lake, as well as the scenery on the East Arm.

The mode of transit afforded some amazing moments and, once and a while, the wind was in their favour, adding some welcome propulsion.

"There was a great moment where we'd camped on Redcliff Island and there was blue sky and all kinds of sunshine but a few metres above the ground just this mist, a cloud of snow," says Panayi.

"It was a 30 or 40-kilometre wind. Luckily for us it was full-blown tail wind. Sometimes you get lucky."

Enjoying the wind pushing them forward, he remembers looking back to see Wheler about 100 metres behind and Palmer another 100 metres behind him - almost entirely obscured by the blowing snow.

"It was a National Geographic photo: the blue sky, white mist and then some skiers with their heads down trudging along," Panayi said.

"It was a beautiful scene but we were barely stopping for breaks because it was impossible - it was so cold - but we did eventually have to pull in somewhere for a break somewhere along Etthen Island. When we did pull in ... the wind was howling, the trees were swaying and we're huddled behind this rock wearing light clothing, just thinking, 'What?'"

They averaged about 50 kilometres each day, skiing for around 10 hours. The physical exertion combined with cold wind made finding a middle ground between hot and cold nearly impossible.

"You're in a state of constant adjusting: hat on, hat off, glove on, zip Jacket, adjust boot, adjust pole strap. It's constant to stay in balance," says Wheler.

"With the wind, you're almost sweating at the wrist and then freezing at the fingertips."

But the discomfort does lead to appreciation. Every night the three set up camp, having pulled sleds with approximately 40 to 50 lbs of gear behind them, including a tent, sleeping bags, cookware and food. They melted snow along the way for water.

Waking up in the morning to put on stiff, cold boots, Wheler says was only made doable by the idea of skiing - yes, the novelty was still there, at least in the morning - and the taste of coffee.

The most trying stretch, Panayi and Wheler agree, was about 30 kilometres between Etthen Island and McKinley Point, well away from land and exposed to the hard, raw wind that kicked up metre-high snow drifts along the snowmobile trail.

But the terrain didn't pose the only challenge along the trip.

"Probably one of the biggest hurdles we had to go through was how to deal with sunburnt nostrils," Panayi said.

With the sun bouncing off the mirror-like white surface of the frozen lake, they say even attempts to apply sunscreen into their nostrils were quickly washed away by constant nasal dripping.

"The steady stream of snot pouring into a burnt nose was really quite distracting by day four," Wheler said with a laugh.

The sun, wind and dehydration also left them with cracked to-the-point-of-bleeding lips for days after returning home. But given the situation, Wheler says, "There was bound to be some suffering."

At one point, he remembers thinking to himself, "I already peed this morning - that's a good sign, and my foot's not frozen - what a gift."

Despite the burnt nostrils, cracked lips and varying body temperatures, Panayi says after having a hectic few weeks at work before the trip, "Getting out to the East Arm was the perfect kind of silence."

Although three men dressed in ski gear at the Woodyard may not be a new sight, anyone there on the Tuesday evening of their return might recall their particularly sun and wind-kissed faces.

The brew pub was their first stop on landing in Yellowknife - from four and a half days on the wide open lake, to actual chairs, heat and a cold beer.

And from the get-go, that was the plan.

"This was Lutsel K'e to the Woodyard from the beginning," said Panayi.

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