Severe Sun Advisory

Date: Aug. 11
Mileage: 25.1
August mileage: 294.0
Temperature upon departure: 71
Inches of rain: 0"

The National Weather Service issued an unofficial "Severe Sun Advisory" for Juneau this weekend. I guess the NWS feels it's necessary to warn Juneau residents that when that big yellow orb is burning in the sky and outside temperatures are approaching 80 (80!), they can't go outside without sunscreen and leave their dogs in cars and other things that they are able to do 95 percent of the year. Yes, Juneau-ites, the sun is in the sky. Head for the hills.

Today I hiked with Geoff to the top of Mount Jumbo, the highest point on Douglas Island. I think it may just turn out to be our only hike together this summer; now that he has seen how slow I am on the downhills, he will not take me hiking again. I don't know exactly what is wrong with me right now - whether I am out of practice, out of shape, or just a little too self-aware of my tender knee. Either way, it took us a comfortable 90 minutes to climb to the top, and a lumbering, leg-pounding two hours to get down with me in the lead. I felt like a wooden marionette flailing down the mountain, grasping and clawing at roots as gravity sucked me into an abyss. And it just kept going down, and down and down and down.

But it's worth it, because you can't beat the views at 3,500 feet. It really gives me perspective on where I live. It's so easy to get lost in the day-to-day out-and-back that defines my routine. The reality of Juneau is that it is a small speck on a very large, very craggy topo map. Whenever I feel stifled in my small town, I like to think of all those ridgelines stretching into the great beyond, and how I could wander for the rest of my life and never see them all.

The sun, however, actually has me a little worried. The weather forecast extends this high-pressure system late into the week, which means my ride Wednesday-Friday could be accompanied by something unexpected entirely: hot weather. With forecasted temps in the mid-70s in Juneau, it could reach the 90s in interior Yukon. Before you smirk at the irony of my concerns, picture this: I'm one of those light-skinned, light-eyed types who is naturally sensitive to sunlight anyway. Throw in the fact that I am in no way acclimatized to sun, and have no recent experience with hydration, eating or perceived effort in warm temperatures ... I may just wither out there. Or I may still freeze. But now I have no idea what to expect. I liked it better when freezing was a given.

Look at me. I'm complaining about a "Severe Sun Advisory." I really am from Juneau now.

One good push

Date: Aug. 10
Mileage: 85.5
August mileage: 272.9
Temperature upon departure: 67
Inches of rain today: 0"

Holy cow. It seems like I may actually attempt this 360-mile ride next weekend. I had come so close to talking myself out of it, too. But the bad knee started cooperating just long enough to respark those temptations. And once that fire starts building, it's only a matter of time before it consumes everything, even common sense. I have to put it out, somehow. Might as well do the ride.

This weekend was my final test to see how my body might cope in the long slow burn. My repetitive motion pangs seem to come on as a result of long periods of buildup rather than just one big ride, so to be able to move pain-free through a 50-mile ride, a six-hour hike, and an 85-mile ride in a three-day period bodes well. I felt great today. It seems like I'm probably as ready for a ride like this as I was ever going to get. Time to cool it off a little, stock up on Power Bars, and spend some time rebuilding Roadie into the lean, mean touring machine he was meant to be (well ... maybe not the lean and mean part.)

The clouds cleared out while I was riding this morning, opening up the sky to what may turn out to be the warmest, sunniest weekend of the summer. Everyone has huge plans and I actually feel a little bit lucky to have my upcoming workweek there to hold me back - otherwise, I'd probably be out scaling entire ridgelines or mountain biking all the trails out the road or otherwise completely burning myself out before Wednesday.

We opened up the official weekend with a big bonfire on the beach. We roasted rubbery "Tofu Pups" over the flames and intentionally dropped a lot of them in the coals. Then we wolfed down our day's allotment of calories and then some in the form of freshly made rhubarb pie. About two dozen people rolled in for this particular beach barbecue, officially making it the largest of the summer. The food was terrible but I think everyone suspected there would be a great sunset tonight. So far, the Friday night horizon has not disappointed us.

A walk in the clouds

Date: Aug. 9
Mileage: 7.8
August mileage: 187.4
Temperature upon departure: 61
Inches of rain today: 0.02"

The weather forecast called for clear(er) weather, so I went to bed last night believing that today was going to be the day, the day I hiked the Juneau Ridge. So of course I woke up to settled fog and a steady drizzle. I knew that my chances of finding the route up there weren't great, but that didn't change the fact that I was raring to go. I gave it a shot.

I started backwards from Granite Creek Basin because I have been up the Mount Juneau trail before, and it seemed better to make my destination some place I might actually recognize. As I was locking my bike at the Mount Juneau spur, a man passed me and chuckled quietly. When I caught back up with him up the trail, he asked, "Why did you leave your bike back there?" When I explained the loop I hoped to complete - up Granite Creek, across the ridge, down Mount Juneau, bike home. He just laughed again and said, "Well, good luck with all that."

Luckily, Granite Creek Basin alone was worth the effort. Patches of brilliant green lit up the graveled surface of what counts as high country in Alaska - 3,000 feet. But as I followed the snow-choked drainages further into the fog, visibility dropped to three feet ... sometimes less. I spent the next couple of hours picking my way along the ridge. Having no trail to follow, no ridgeline in my sight, and no intuition for direction were three solid strikes against me. My inclination led me to drop off the ridge many times, eventually finding myself rimmed on a cliff or trapped by an impossibly steep field of snow. I was backtracking more than I was moving forward. Soon it became apparent that I would spend all day and all night and then some on that ridge if my progress continued at that rate. And since I had no idea how far I really had to go, I turned around.

Of course, about a half hour after I decided to make my hike and out-and-back, the clouds began to clear. Oh well. At least I could finally see more substantial pieces of the big picture. I don't feel too disappointed about not making it to Mount Juneau today. Now I've checked out both the approach and the descent, I feel like all I have left to discover is the highline ... and I can't wait to go back.

A lake still frozen in August ...


with edges of water so blue it was like an open window into infinity.