Winter carnival

Date: Feb. 11
Mileage: 39.5
February mileage: 225.4
Temperature on departure: 34

I took about 15 photos of the Homer Winter Carnival parade today, and this was the driest one I got. At this point I was straddling my bike, clutching my camera with soaked-through neoprene gloves and trying to shake about a half gallon of water out of my overboots as I watched Scouts in short-sleeved uniforms march by. It rained nonstop today, melting vertical feet of snowpack and unleashing the whole mess in chocolate torrents down the streets. That didn't stop the Homerites from turning out in droves for the annual "winter" celebration, despite that fact that the car race on Beluga Lake was cancelled due to standing water and the firework show was threatened by the compounding downpour. This kind of weather should have a season all its own - something rooted in the word "gunk."

I guess the weather didn't stop me from doing a four-hour ride today, which included a too-lengthy stop to watch the parade (Brrrr). The first time I got off my bike, I realized my overboots were literally full of water. The only reason I wore them was a misguided attempt to keep my feet dry. Overboots seemed like a good idea - but I don't think you're supposed to go swimming in them. And pedaling 15 mph through 6-inch deep shush puddles pretty much qualifies as Olympic pool cycling. But it was just another important lesson - when in doubt, stick to neoprene.

I honestly thought the fireworks would be canceled, so I didn't go back to town tonight. But I just heard them go off, so I guess I stranded myself at home for nothing. Anyway, I've been killing some time and doing some blogging, and I realized that I've had this blog for three months and I've never posted a picture of my cat. People have entire blogs dedicated to their cats, and while I don't condone the idea, I do realize that my blog is becoming a little, well, single-track minded. So this is Cady. She is the world's neediest cat. She is also about as graceful as her owner is on wet ice (that is to say - not.) But she acts like she loves me, and that's gotta count for something.

Also, Caloi-Rider did a post today about the interesting ways people found his blog. I thought I'd check out my stats, and found that someone landed here earlier today with an msn search for "are people crazy in Alaska?" Hope they found their answer. T minus 6 days, 11 hours, 54 minutes and counting.

Countdown

Date: Feb. 10
Mileage: 25.4
February mileage: 185.9
Temperature on departure: 35

Well, I can check the 10-day weather forecast and see the day of my race now; I'm receiving empathy e-mails from fellow racers. Looks like the countdown's on. I feel like I'm physically ready for the race, but right now I'm so obsessed with the weather that nothing else seems to matter. I might as well go eat a row of Oreos.

Instead, I took Geoff's advice to do one short-but-hard ride. Thanks to a full day of ad design (blah), I only had about a two-hour span between punch-out time at the office and the start of a foreign film I really wanted to see, "The Story of Weeping Camel." (Mongolia is definitely a place I want to bicycle tour through someday.) Anyway, today was probably not the best day to decide to go out at "run" pace. Above-freezing temps and a full day of rain unleashed havoc on the deep snowpack, turning every road shoulder and bike path into unholy basins of slush. Sloppy, slurping slush that rose to my calves in some spots. I should have geared up with my new overboots. As it was, I was dressed for 35 degrees (basically, my summer suit). I biked until I was soaked through and through, and then I biked another 24.4 miles.

Hard pedaling helped me stay warm, although the wind chill was an definite minus. I pumped out 25 miles in one hour, 45 minutes. Laughably slow for road cyclists, I know, but for moving a full-suspension mountain bike with about 30 psi in high-treaded snow tires through an ocean of melting snow, it didn't seem too bad. In fact, it felt really good. Until I stopped. Then I was really cold.

The camel movie was really cute, too. I highly recommend it to anyone with an actual DVD rental store in their town. T minus one week, eight hours, 58 minutes and counting.

Just snow

Well, the snow banks in front of my house are now officially taller than I am. Geoff estimated that about 7 feet of snow has fallen here in the past three weeks. The accumulation isn't quite as high thanks to near or above-freezing temps, but there's still plenty of snow on the ground. I feel tempted sometimes to let my restless cat go out exploring, but I fear I wouldn't find her until spring. Heavy snowfall and 50 mph winds this morning created an absolute white out, complete with about eight inches of wet, unplowed powder on the roads. I barely got my car out of the driveway, and only because I have to drop 1,200 feet in elevation did I even have a prayer of driving it to work. I arrived at the office windblown and soaked to my thighs from pushing my car.

"How come you didn't ride your bike today?" my boss asked.

I think she was joking, but I'm not sure. I have developed a reputation for bicycling in nasty conditions, and bike commuting when the driving's bad. But I don't think she understands that, even if I could successfully ride - not walk - my bike through eight inches of snow, I'd likely be killed by traffic while negotiating the roads through the blasting wind and extremely low visibility. Big SUVs were sliding off the road. "Blizzard-like conditions" and two massive avalanches closed the Seward Highway, which means everyone on the Kenai Peninsula is stuck here until the storm lets up. My point is ... there are some days that you just can't ride.

For what it's worth, I did put in 90 minutes running intervals at 85-90 percent maximum heart rate on the elliptical (how boring is that?). But it's good to get in these hard cardiovascular workouts that I can't always achieve on my bike. And the gym was absolutely abandoned, because no one in their right mind was out driving today.

But if they're even getting a fraction of this snowfall north of Anchorage, no amount of heart-pumping intervals can save me, especially if it stays as warm as it's supposed to. Ned Rozell recently wrote a great description of conditions I fear the most in the lead of his latest Alaska Magazine column. But all I can do is watch and wait, and hope my prayers override the skiers'.