Grounded

Date: Feb. 2
Mileage: 13.3
February mileage: 13.3
Temperature on departure: 0

So it's Groundhog Day. When I was a kid, I loved holidays. All of them. Not equally, of course, but I made it a point to savor every one. I never could wrap my head around Groundhog Day, however. Even as a kid who carefully planned my March 17 wardrobe so as to wear the most esoteric yet unarguably green attire, the Feb. 2 holiday always seemed so pointless to me.

But now, I don't know. After all, Groundhog Day is all about blind optimism in the face of unyeilding forces. Shadow or not, I don't think there's a person in Alaska who wouldn't love to believe that some semblance of spring will emerge before March 21. Of course, our hometown groundhog would have to burrow through about four feet of snow before peaking his little head out to the 0-degree, blowing blizzard outside. At that point, any pronouncement with the word "spring" wouldn't really qualify as optimistic - more like certifiably insane. That's probably why there aren't any groundhogs in Alaska.

We have a lot of snow. It's the cold, dry kind that makes for great traction when packed, but the trail riding is horrible. Impossible. Impossible in that you could maybe walk through it, if you had a pair of snowshoes and weren't pushing a 30-pound dead weight. Otherwise, you may as well just build an igloo and hunker down, because where are you going to go? Good thing they still plow the roads around here, so I can still ride. But the city never seems to plow my road until very last. It's a good thing my Geo Prism was a tank in his former life - busted right through nearly a foot of new powder this morning, bad clutch and all.

I actually had to cut my bicycle ride short today because I didn't dress thoughtfully enough and froze my toes on the early downhills. I got off my bike and walked for a while, but I couldn't get them to warm up much. Also, I've realized I don't have as much, um, "bladder capacity" when it's really cold out. So I turned around and rode back. I was going to do 30 more minutes on the trainer to get a solid two-hour ride, but when I came home, I discovered my road bike had a flat. How does a bike on a trainer get a flat? Those tires must have well over 2,000 miles on them, and this is the first flat they ever sustained. On a trainer. How undignified. Anyway, I was too lazy to repair two rear-wheel flats in two days, so I made a cup of hot chocolate instead. In the end, I guess I won.

Does goo freeze?

I just ordered a pair of Neos from Campmor. I was going to go with neoprene booties and gators. But after talking to some winter cyclists who warned me of the dangers of stream overflow, I gave the Neos more serious thought. It seems like every week I purchase some type of new gear and I'm starting to feel the financial strain - but $60 for overboots that are infallibly waterproof up to 20 inches is a lot cheaper than paying a doctor to amputate toes. I won't be able to use my cages anymore - but I generally just let them dangle anyway when the snow is soft. I need feet to catch my falls. Feet are important. I feel good about my purchase.

Another thing I gave some thought to today (it was an elliptical machine and trainer day - lots of time for wandering thoughts) was food. Up until now, I've had this vague idea of my race requirement to carry 5,000-7,000 calories, 3,000 of which I have to end the race with. But what to actually eat? This is important because I want to go light. I want to go quickly digestible. But most importantly, I want to bring things I can eat frozen. Powerbars, I discovered, turn to teeth-shattering bricks when they freeze. It takes more energy to bite and chew than you probably gain by eating them. But maybe I could bring those bags of Powerbar bites, which I could stick in my mouth and wait for the eventual thaw before chewing. I wonder what the freezing point of those carbo-loaded goos are. How about cinnamon bears? Jar of peanut butter?

During my eight-hour ride, I ate two peanut butter sandwiches and a baggie of Triscuits. These foods aren't as practical for a 100-miler, but I definintly want to bring food I actually want to eat, thereby increasing my chances of staying energized rather than reluctantly gnawing on a Powerbar before I pass out. However, I'm not sure what to bring. Bananas are out. I love peanut butter ... but once a peanut butter sandwich freezes solid, can you even bite into it? I always have the option of keeping food against my body, but I only want to do that as long as it's comfortable. Is there anything out there that won't freeze under daylong exposure to subzero temperatures? (One of my co-workers suggested Vodka. That's probably not a good idea :-) Hmmm. Today I learned about Neos. Now I have something to research tomorrow.

500

Date: Jan. 31
Mileage: 40.6
January mileage: 501.3
Temperature upon departure: 11

Well, it's the end of the month. Geoff already pointed out how close I was to 500 miles yesterday, so I had to go for it. Just had to. Why put so much emphasis on an arbitrary number (and, due to some guestimation during one ride, not even an exact number)? Why not 497? 481? I don't know. We're irrationally drawn to even numbers. Anyway, it got me out for a healthy 40-mile ride after work today. Plus, it beats going to see the latest Hillary Duff movie at the singleplex.

It's funny, actually, because I was not feeling good when I first set out in the blowing snow. I got out of work late and then had to spend 20 valuable daylight minutes changing a flat on my back tire (the valve tore. Tube creep is one of the perils of running bicycle tires at low pressure.) Snowfall was light, but there was a fierce headwind out of the east sending drifts everywhere. Plowing through the accumulation made for slow progress. But as I pedaled along, my mood began to improve. So I dropped off the ridge and made my move.

I spent about four hours on the bike today, navigating the unplowed roads, charging through snowcovered trails, and on (rare) occasion, coasting with a strong tailwind down reasonably clear roads. Most of that time was under night skies, and I finally burned out both my head and tail light batteries. But with all this trail riding I've been doing, even averaging 10 mph felt unbelievably fast. I can't wait to feel what it's like to get on a road bike again.

Someone asked me the other day if I could squeeze in some road rides to rack up my mileage. And I thought - roads? What are these roads that you speak of? I'm guessing the person was refering to a dry surface, generally smooth and covered in pavement. Such luxuries do not exist in Alaska in mid-winter. Even plowed highways are almost entirely covered with a thin layer of packed snow and ice, and usually a fair number of snowdrifts, for weeks on end. The gravel roads (of which there are many) might as well be packed snowmobile trails. When it snows, they might as well be an open meadow covered in moose-trampled powder. No one in town even dreams of running their vehicles without studded snow tires. We bikers feel the same way. I did get a few runs in on my road bike during an extended thaw in December, but it's looking like it may be a while before that happens again. For now, roadie sits on the trainer, dejected but probably thankful it doesn't have to incur the frozen abuse my Gary Fisher endures.

Sure, I miss riding my road bike. But, then I have days like today ... pounding through snow drifts on the Spit bike path as freezing spray splashes up from the Bay, facing the blowing blizzard and sucking up subzero windchill. And the best part - I'm feeling kind of good. Maybe even enjoying myself. After all, I think, I have this whole place to myself. I feel toasty in my winter gear anyway. I only have a few more miles to go and I may even get there.

Who needs summer?