I did, I did, I did ...

Date: Jan. 28
Mileage: 20
January mileage: 438.4
Temperature upon departure: -7

... The Iditarod trail. Is. Slow.

Of course, everything about today was exactly what I would expect of such an excursion. Temps were cold, but not unreasonably so. The trail was soft, but all-in-all better than I expected. Mt. Augustine decided today was the fourth of July, but all the ash headed south. Yes, today was a good day. An encouraging day. And yet, I feel the cold grip of this daunting task tightening around me. It could be my neoprene gear. But, no. I think it's the Susitna 100. It's going to be hard.

Well, duh. But sometimes it's hard to grasp the reality of things until you're down in the suck. Geoff and I went out today for a half-day ride (Geoff, who's training to run the Little Su 50K, has no interest in 10-hour bike rides.) We drove up Point Mackenzie Road so we could start immediately on the Iditarod. We planned to go as far as two hours took us and head back. What we got was 20 miles. We made a lot of stops that were more indicative of the recreational nature of this particular ride. Still, 20 miles, five hours. One hundred miles, well ... the math ain't hard.

But I don't feel disheartened. My warm gear performed beautifully for temperatures that didn't even consider climbing above zero. The particular section we did was a rollercoaster of short and steep rolling hills, flat frozen bogs and snowmobile moguls - a lot of fun. The pace was laid back enough that the effort didn't even demand that much energy (though the one time I tried to gnaw down a deeply frozen Power Bar while pedaling was pretty funny. Well, funny ... not pretty. Without becoming too graphic, I'll just say that it involved a lot of saliva, a chocolate goatee and a little bit of blood). Anyway, I have been planning this entire time for a race that would take about 24 hours. It's just, now, I'm starting to realize how long that actually is.

Heading back, Geoff and I both took spectacular crashes on separate downhills. Geoff almost pulled out of his, but didn't eject in time and hurt both his legs, not seriously. I lost control of my front wheel mid-hill and overcorrected. The bike slammed me down on my right shoulder before I even knew I was going down, then rolled right over me. It seemed bad, but the only thing that broke was the bracket on Geoff's large seat post bag. Luckily, I just won a new one from Fat Cyclist. It's funny how life works out like that.

I hope to fit in another four-hour ride tomorrow. I probably won't have a chance make it all the way out to Iditarod again, but I'm glad I was able to at least try it once. If I'll goes well, I'll be able to catch the Frigid Bits action in Anchorage. Now there are some real ice bikers. Should be fun.

I love neoprene

Date: Jan. 27
Mileage: 18.6
January mileage: 418.4
Temperature upon departure: -4

Today was, well ... it was a bright, sunny day. Mercury hit somewhere around -4, but strong, blasting winds out of the north (for my ride today, a direct side wind both ways) really upped the shock factor. Then, atop hardpacked ice roads, there were the 35 mph descents. Brrrrr. Pretty safe to say, that was the coldest ride yet. At least, the coldest until tomorrow. Geoff and I drove up to Palmer today. And barring any unforeseen events, tomorrow we will ride pieces of the Susitna 100 course. The actual Iditarod trail. It's the reason we drove up here, so it will be hard to talk ourselves out of it. Temperature right now ... -12.

I've learned to love my neoprene gear above all. Face, hands and feet are all protected by a thin layer of that stuff, and it's simply amazing. Today, all I wore on my hands were a pair of neoprene gloves - the very same ones kayakers wear. I brought a pair of mittens with me, but I never needed them. My hands were toasty. I can't say the same about patches of my face that accidentally became exposed while I was adjusting my goggles. Today, I also learned how quickly skin can freeze. I'm definitely going to be more careful tomorrow.

Anyway, we finally arrived in Palmer pretty late tonight, so I should probably cut this post short. We went to the University of Alaska Anchorage Folk Fest. We had to sit through clogging but we saw a friend of ours play in her 14-member old-timey string band. We also saw a great bluegrass band called the South Austin Jug Band. Bunch of Texans visiting Alaska during a January cold snap. But they sure could play. Good times.

Danger cold

Date: Jan. 26
Mileage: 12.5
January mileage: 399.8
Temperature upon departure: 0

Still feeling a little on the sad side. It saps through my energy like a cold blast of Siberian wind, which also happens to be whipping through town. Geoff warned me about dressing thoughtfully for riding in the "danger cold." I can't really complain about temperature, though. It's -30 in Kenai (only an hour north of here). It's -45 in Fairbanks. I'm sure if it were to suddenly jump up to zero up there, little Fairbanks kids would probably go out to recess in T-shirts. Plus, thoughtful dressing has me feeling more comfortable riding outside than I do sitting in my office (where the heater is broken!!). If only my eyelashes would stop freezing together ... in my office.

I rode about a half hour on the trainer before dinner. The effort was so smooth and sweaty and mindless that I was tempted to do another hour or so after dinner rather than ride outside. But then I checked my e-mails, and saw a nice comment from Ricky, quoting something I said yesterday and simply replying, "thanks for that." It prompted me to saddle up.

Sometimes I get caught up in routine, and it's so easy forget why I ride. All those reasons I started out with, when I first crawled onto an 18-speed and rolled down my block - they're still there. For the landscape rolling beside me. For punishing climbs and sweeping views. For cold winds and breathtaking descents. For quickness and slowness. For unpredictability. For the simple wonder of it all.

Life could become so frustrating otherwise.