Boom

So they tell me Mt. Augustine's about to blow. It's rated "Code Yellow," for what that's worth (just like the United States has been in a code yellow terrorism alert since, well, since the British were coming.) This photo is actually Mt. Iliamna. It could be Mt. Redoubt. I don't know. What I do know is - I live near a lot of volcanoes. And one of them, they tell me, is about to blow.

I never really thought about volcanoes before I moved to Alaska. An active volcano is something that belongs on a tiny tropical island, somewhere deep and warm and surrounded by chanting natives hoisting a screaming virgin up the face. No one told me that Homer was surrounded by these things - one big geothermal hug.

So I came into work today, wide-eyed and clutching the Anchorage Daily News with a shot of a big, steam-spewing cone on the cover. My co-worker just laughed at me (she has lived in Homer since the beginning of time, or at least since 1986 - the last time it blew its top.)

"It's not so bad," she said. "It just gets really foggy and dark, and everyone stays home for a couple of days."

"You can't even go outside?" I asked.

"Oh, you can go outside. Just try not to breathe too much."

I wonder what it would be like to ride a bicycle in a few inches of fresh volcanic ash. I imagine it would be a lot like riding in powder snow - airy, slow and locked in ethereal silence. It would probably be really enjoyable ... except for the not breathing part.

Unfortunately, I didn't take advantage of the still-available oxygen in the air to ride my bike today. I did manage a good, sweaty 75 minutes on the elliptical trainer at the gym. I feel it was an accomplishment only because I managed to ignore a leering bodybuilder that entire time. But I do have a deficit of cycling mileage that I owe - and this makes me very happy. I want to thank everyone who's helped me out in my miles-for-dollars Susitna 100 bid. I am close to my goal, and with any luck I'll be able to file my application to the race toward the end of this week. In answer to Fritz's comment yesterday, I am good for every mile. Come wind, ice, blizzard, or the most horrifying condition - rain, I'll bike it. I have until Dec. 31, so bring it on!

Night crasher

Date: Dec. 13
Today's mileage: 14.2
December mileage: 177.5
Temperature upon departure: 25

I have a better picture from Sunday, but this is one I actually took today, so there you go. I'm still aiming for journalistic realism. Today's ride was sponsored by Cyclelicious, a great read for everything from unfair cycling legislation to calendar girls who can't ride a bicycle to save their life. Also, Cyclelicious is one of the top-ranked bike blogs online, so I thought I'd make today's affiliate ride a good one.

By the time I dismounted from my swivel chair and left the cement box, the sun had already set. I decided to grab my headlight and head up to the reservoir - try my skills on the snowmobile paths up there. Unfortunately, after the thaw some ATVs and other wheeled vehicles drove up and down the trail, creating deep, frozen ruts that all but trapped me once I dropped into them. I tackled the trail with all of my lung-searing strength going up, remembering that speed and balance often go hand in hand. However, that theory didn't work as well coasting down. With only my tiny yellow headlight to guide me, I weaved in and out of those ruts and tried to keep my unmoving pedals just above the berm. Eventually - although a more appropriate word is probably inevitably - I overcorrected just enough and slammed right into one of those ATV canyon walls. Instead of jumping over it, the wheel lodged in the snow and I stopped dead. Or, rather, the bike stopped dead. I went for an extended ride over the handlebars.

Usually snow is pretty forgiving. However, snow that has soaked up four days worth of rain before freezing again is about as soft as concrete. I knew the moment I hit that I wasn't injured at all. But I lay there for a while anyway, staring at stars as they slipped behind wisps of clouds and thinking only of blunt pain and the repeated word "hard, hard, hard, hard." I got over it soon enough, though. I stood up, brushed off the powder, and worked my way back to the road ... humbled, but determined to keep trying.

Night rider

Date: Dec. 12
Today's mileage: 6
December mileage: 163.3
Temperature upon departure: 19

Monday's my long day at work. Dec. 12 is a rather short day in the year. But that doesn't mean we can't get out for an evening jaunt on the ski trails (shh ... don't tell the Nordic skiers. They don't like us using their trails. But I figure - what they can't see can't hurt them.) Snow conditions were ideal today, but I am still working on developing my trail-riding technique. Navigating deep ruts covered over by soft powder takes a fair amount of concentration any time, but it's definitely tougher in the dark. Of course, I gotta learn it - just like I need to learn to change a tire with mittens on (but I'll save that frustration for another day.)

Today's ride felt pretty technical, especially during climbs. For that, I feel lucky to hail from the desert. Riding in snow is in many ways similar to riding in sand - a lot of swerving and correcting, grinding without earning much distance and using lower RPMs/higher gears to get through the tough stuff. I lowered my tire pressure to 20 PSI. I may try it lower next time. Also, I think I may start looking for a "snow bike." I feel sort of bad putting all of this abuse on my Sugar when most of its amenities aren't even needed, and some (such as full suspension) are actually detrimental. I'm hoping some local resident will put an old Cannondale mountain bike in the classifieds - one of those classic workhorses built in the '80s with no suspension and room to spare for some huge tires. Who knows - it could happen.

Geoff commented today that he no longer feels the urge to whittle away the winter months while we wait for the backpacking, camping, canoeing, 11:30 p.m. sunset bike-ride summer days that we moved here for. For a few months, he has been mulling whether or not to apply for one of those winter fishing boat jobs - the kind that steal months from you at a time but send you home with fat pockets. However, today he said he didn't think he could face the grind, knowing now all of the fun recreation he'd be missing back home. It's one thing to say that in the summer - but the winter? I think we've arrived.