I blame the sun

Date: Jan. 4
Mileage: 47.0
January mileage: 96.5
Temperature upon departure: 28

I love this picture because its timing is uncanny. Geoff and I hit this frozen, snowless trail in the only window of clear sky that slid over Juneau all week. It was only about 45 minutes, but it gave us our first shot of direct sunlight in the New Year, and Geoff his first shot of direct sunlight in Juneau since Nov. 22. Shielded from the wind by the thick forest canopy, we broke through bars of sunlight and relished our own little piece of July. I could taste it and see it and even feel it, despite temperatures that hovered in the 20s (which, in direct sunlight, feel more like 75). By the time we made it back to the snow-dusted road, the clouds had closed in and the sun was gone. By the time Geoff cut off and I continued north, the wind picked up something fierce. For the last six miles of my ride, the city was engulfed in a whiteout blizzard. In my own unique way, I loved it all.

But the sun is a little like caffeine. Too much, and it you only get a flash-flare of energy followed by hours of sluggishness. But deny yourself sun, for weeks at a time, and even the smallest taste is like cocaine. I had a great, high-energy ride. A little less than 50 miles took four hours (The snow drifts are back, I'm riding Sugar for now and I'm slow again.)I basically bonked toward the end because I neglected to eat anything after breakfast, but for the most part I felt unfazed by the ride. When Geoff announced he was going to the gym after my 4 p.m. lunch, I decided to follow him there. I did a typical session - 90 minutes, with 45 minutes moderate-to-high-intensity cardio and 45 minutes of lifting. I was going for wearing myself down, really good and down ... which at my current level of fitness, it seems like 5 or 6 hours would be a good threshold. But I'm a little disappointed. Just not really feeling it. So I have to feel regret for not pushing myself hard enough. I could try again tomorrow, but we're supposed to receive 8 to 12 inches of snow in this storm, and with all of that new powder, it seems like I should give skiing another try. I guess I'll just wait and see.

Brand new treads

Date: Jan. 3
Mileage: 21.2
January mileage: 49.5
Temperature upon departure: 36

The latest piece of Snaux bike arrived this week, via USPS parcel post (every single purchase I make on eBay, I beg the sellers not to ship parcel post. I tell them I will pay them the 38 cents they'll save. I tell them I live in Juneau %@$#! Alaska, the end of the line, the black hole of post-office shipping. And every time, they send parcel post and I have to wait six weeks for packages.) This package had the WTB Timberwolf tires I bought in early December. I got a little greedy and went for the 2.7" tires. It's finally starting to look just a little like those big-wheeled bikes I dream about. Unfortunately, the rear tire doesn't fit the rim ... but it could, if I shaved down the outer knobs a little. Has anyone ever tried doing that? If so, what kind of results have you had? And what do you use to cut away the rubber?

Today I rode alongside the beach I biked across the other day. An unusually high tide had devoured nearly all of the sand, and I noticed that several of the shipwrecked boats were missing. They were just gone. Floated away, I imagine. But there was something disheartening about the scene. I find comfort in the rotting permanence of junkyards. They're almost like graveyards - places where you can go to mourn the remnants of forgotten histories. I liked to believe that those boats had washed up after long, fulfilling lives as sportfishing rigs full of shooters and salmon nets and wide-eyed tourists, but in old age and neglect had broken loose of their mooring and washed up on the shore to die. It seemed fitting to me to imagine that they had been there for years ... decades even. Now I realize that these scenes change in a matter of days.

I need to start putting in some longer hours on the bike. What I do now doesn't even really register on the training scale. It's been a while since I've done a ride that really floored me. I need to do one of those. But, man, it's going to be a psychological miracle of I succeed.

Liquidation

Date: Jan. 2
Mileage: 28.3
January mileage: 28.3
Temperature upon departure: 40
iPod cycled through: "Reach for the Sun" by The Polyphonic Spree

The New Year is here and I am through mourning the snow. Inches and inches and inches of rain corroded all of the packed snow, seeped into the glare ice layer and finally stripped the road of all but loose gravel and wet pavement. So I wrestled Roadie out of the closet, brushed off a thick layer of October grit, pumped up the tires and tentatively limped across the street.

I did not want to ride like it was summer. I wanted to believe that streaks of ice threatened to yank my tires out from under me at any moment. I needed the fight and kick of snow to lift me out of the dripping gray monotony. But as the pedals spun almost effortlessly over hard pavement, I watched the odometer spin upward ... 16mph ... 17 mph ... 18mph.

I had been off the bike three days but it suddenly seemed like three months. We tore through needles of rain toward a strip of sunlight slicing through the clouds. I watched streaks of yellow light drift over distant glaciers and leaned into Roadie and our iceless, winterless road. I trained my muscles for reaction and endurance; they know nothing of speed. But Roadie knows nothing of winter, and the miles melted beneath us. And in the subtle transition of moments, iPod chose a good song.

..... "light and day is more than you'll say"
This hurricane pattern's got me down.
..... "cause all my feelings are more"
It's not just the biking.
..... "than I can let by ... or not"
Riding Roadie in January.
..... "more than you've got"
Getting soaked.
..... "just follow the day"
Motoring past 20 mph.
..... "follow the day and reach for the sun"

21 mph ...
..... "you don't see me fly into red"
What of the dead snow and sunless December?
..... "one more you're done"
The sting of sleet on cheeks and eyes.
..... "just follow the seasons and find the time"
Do you know what 70 mph winds taste like?
..... "reach for the bright side"
But I hardly remembered what 23 mph felt like.
..... "you don't see me fly into red"
I can't keep it up but I'll try.
..... "one more you're nuts"
Unending rain is a definite possibility.
....."just follow the day"
But that doesn't even matter, does it?
..... "follow the day and reach for the sun."