Crazy fun singletrack

Date: Feb.8

Mileage: 30.4

February mileage: 172.6

Temperature upon departure: 25

I rode out to Dredge Lake today for some great trail riding. Everything was dialed in to the ideal setting. The trail was hard-packed and fast. Off-trail riding was crunchy and strenuous ... but rideable. The was a small section of snowmobile-groomed path, but most of the trail system was packed down in a single, narrow ski track that darted up steep hills and plummeted down winding slaloms through the rain forest. And for some strange reason, I was at the top of my game - hitting those hairpin turns with uncharacteristic precision, flying across the flat stretches and not bothering to gear down as I motored up another short hill. Big-ring snowbiking. Oh, if only winter could always be this friendly.

I actually ended up riding about 15 miles today entirely on snow. I think my average on the trails was about 9 or 10 mph. For me, on snow, that's like ... ai-yeeee fast. It never even felt like work. Geoff was at a nearby campground pounding out a short run to test his foot injury, which has given him less trouble in the past couple of days. I wanted to go find him and show him all the fun he was missing, and probably would have if the Mendenhall Lake was just a little more frozen. I rode a short distance on top of the shore ice ... about three inches of water below ... and heard quite a bit of cracking. So that was not to be.

I also learned the real stress of a rigid bike. For spending less than two hours riding on trails, my forearms are killing me. It didn't help that hundreds of dogs pounded endless pockmarks into the snow before it cemented over. I would spend 100 miles riding on snow like that, happily, but I'd probably jolt my fingertips into semi-permanent numbness.

I do my fair share of summer cycling ... both dirt and road. I've ridden my road bike to the corner store and I've ridden 109 miles of wilderness singletrack in one epic day. I was indoctrinated into mountain biking on the legendary trails of southern Utah. But, for me, there's just nothing quite as joyful as a rare, perfectly-dialed-in snow ride. Does this make me a bad person?

Juneau's pet wolf

"The adventures of Romeo the wolf and one lucky pug"

I wish I could have been there, but these photos aren't mine. They were sent to the Juneau Empire today by a local photographer who wishes to remain anonymous because of the sensitive nature of the photos, and because (I've heard) that dog belongs to a family member who would be fairly distraught if she found out what happened. But I'm guessing she's going to find out. These photos are gold, and I'm sure they'll be distributed far and wide over the Internet soon enough.

I've seen this wolf before - a couple of times, actually - running across the frozen Mendenhall Lake. The locals call him "Romeo." He's a fairly habituated "city" wolf, and has been known to approach groups of dogs and even play with them. I've never heard of him carrying off a dog before, but a co-worker speculates that he mistook that squatty little white dog for a rabbit. Once he got his mouth around it and tasted ... ewww, dog ... he spit the pug back out on the snow. Word is the pug got right back up and was apparently fine, if not a little shaken.

Juneau is probably one of the few cities in the country where wolves live in such close proximity to a (semi) urban area. It creates a whole new dynamic of human habituation because wolves are such social animals. You can't really blame them if they want to play with your dogs. But it's good to see they're still respectful enough of their little cousins to not make them dinner.

10-day forecast

Date: Feb. 6
Mileage: 20.6
February mileage: 142.2
Temperature upon departure: 30

The Susitna 100 draws near. I think the single moment that really pulls this sinking reality to the forefront of my every waking thought is the moment I discover the race date on the 10-day weather forecast. The 10-day countdown begins tomorrow.

Am I ready? I don’t know ... I don’t know ... where did I stash those heat packs ... face mask ... where’s my face mask? I haven’t seen it since March ... neoprene socks ... tights ... fleece layers ... check ... check ... how much will it cost to put my bike on the plane ... 50 bucks? ... crap, I still need to buy that ticket I have on hold ... what do you mean you can’t take a camp stove on a plane? ... sleeping bag ... bike rack ... check ... check.

The truth is, I will never be truly ready. Might as well huck whatever gear I can find on my overpriced Alaska Airlines flight and pray for grace. I know now that out on the lonely wilderness trail, grace ... and maybe that extra pound of butter ... are sometimes the only things we have to get by.

The Arrowhead 135 is wrapping up. Both Dave and Doug pedaled into the depths of their abilities and in the end had to scratch. Most of the field scratched. The temperatures dipped beneath 30 below, temperatures in which comfort and strength never fully reach the surface. It’s a humbling thought that really cuts the Susitna 100 reality even deeper. But don’t worry, Mom, I don’t think it gets that cold in Big Lake, Alaska :-).

Geoff went to see a foot doctor today, and is now more confused and probably worse off than he was before. Instead of even offering a vague answer, the podiatrist gave him no answers. Nothing. The experience rings similar to a medical ordeal I went through two years ago. I injured some muscles in my lower left leg during a mountain bike fall, and became convinced I had blood clotting. The doctor never really found anything but humored me through three visits and an ultrasound. I could barely walk for a month, and just when I had decided I was a certifiable hypochondriac, something broke loose and my entire lower leg turned black and blue. After that cleared up, I was fine. Fine, and out a $500 deductible.

That’s when pretty much lost my faith in doctors.

Now I always second guess sports injuries. Unless you can afford to seek out the personal scrutiny of the best specialists in the country, is it really worth going to see a local physician for some $300 version of “take two aspirins and call me when you feel like spending more?”

But, who knows? I’ll probably change my tune if (when?) the frostbite sets in.