Lucky day

Date: Aug. 30
Mileage: 83.4
August mileage: 987.9
Temperature upon departure: 58
Rainfall: .05"

A couple of nights ago, there was an eclipse of the full moon. Then there was a meteor shower. A couple of planets probably aligned in strange ways, too, because somehow, against the odds, I talked Geoff into going for a bike ride on the road today. And not just any ride on the road - an 80-mile ride on the road, complete with a forecast calling for a 90 percent chance of showers and a south wind that could knock a person off their bike - which at some point was going to have to be fought head on.

"It will be so fun to ride to Echo Cove," I said. And, of course, he didn't believe me for a second. Geoff would ride a mountain bike to the ends of the earth, but put him on skinny tires without any camping gear attached, and he becomes bored within fractions of a mile. As we left town with the south wind pushing us along at 20 mph, no pedaling required, he said "maybe we shouldn't ride all the way to the end of the road."

But the miles rolled along as miles often do. We talked about everything out there ... 24-hour Worlds, the atrocious eating habits of people who aren't us, movies that Geoff likes and I hate, and vice versa (which pretty much covers all movies.) It was great to have someone to talk to out there. I do so much cycling by myself. Ok, every time I go out on a bike, I'm by myself. I consider it my own sanctuary of solitude. But every once in a while, it's nice to have someone to share in a laugh about the strange foods that pass as "vegetables" in America, and geek out on far-away endurance races until, suddenly, you've pedaled 42 miles with no idea how you got there.

I tried two new foods today that I decided were more disgusting than their hype merited ... Clif Shot Bloks (Margarita variety ... They taste like citrus-flavored stale vegetable oil, and that is just wrong); and Gatorade flavored Jelly Bellys (Fruit punch Sport Beans. Ew.) I maintain my very subjective belief that electrolytes should not be mixed with any kind of sugar, which is why I was so excited to discover Nuun on this ride. Nuun is just an electrolyte tablet that you throw in your water, and it dissolves like Alka Seltzer. It's sweet, but just barely (like 3 calories), so it takes the edge off all that salt without turning it into a sickly sweet, inedible energy food. Now I can continue to eat food I actually like (fruit leather) and still get that replenishing shot of electrolytes. Score another one for lucky day Aug. 30.

Even the weather forecast - which, most amazingly, was for the most part accurate - worked out in our favor. That 90 percent chance of showers was actually something that is a very rare phenomenon for Southeast Alaska ... thunderstorms. All around us, dark clouds would gather and churn. We'd cross over pavement that was drenched in deep puddles from a passing downpour, but, somehow we spent the afternoon riding in sunlight. How every single one of those scattered downpours missed us is beyond me, but they did. And somehow, we came home warm, dry, and bathed in rainbows.

The headwind did become harsh, but Geoff and I had each other to help share the full brunt of it. Geoff cooked himself a little toward the end and had to unipedal the last three miles after his IT band seized up. But I think I may have finally solved my heel problems. I guess that part's just lucky for me.

Only 12.1 more miles to go.

Running the gauntlet

Date: Aug. 29
Mileage: 51.1
August mileage: 904.5
Temperature upon departure: 57
Rainfall: .04"

It's exciting, setting out to ride a bunch of 50-mile days in a row. But I am becoming a bit tired of the ride out the road, so today I put together a tripod route to mix it up a bit - North Douglas and back, Thane and back, Lemon Creek and back.

The Thane spur is my favorite road route in Juneau. However, I'm pretty sure I can count the number of times I have ridden it this summer on one hand. There's only one reason for this: The Gauntlet. Now, I have ridden Moab's Slickrock Trail. I have descended a muddy Resurrection Pass with no brakes. And I can say that no ride I've tried is as scary - or dangerous - as downtown Juneau on a five-cruise-ship summer day.

It's downright exhilarating in a what-just-happened-back-there kind of way. Hundreds of starry-eyed pedestrians who have spent days being herded around a boat and stuffed with food spill out onto the sidewalks. Most of them think they have landed in Downtown Disney, a magical place where there are no cars, no traffic laws, and everybody understands their right-of-way is absolute as they weave from jewelry store to jewelry store. The problem is, Juneau is not Downtown Disney. There are actually quite a few cars, cars that eventually get tired of slamming on the brakes for clueless walkers and idling in the street as crossing guards let herds of responsible tourists stream past. The drivers eventually decide they're going to do whatever it takes to get through.

As a cyclist, I'm in the middle of it all, dodging tourists even as I'm being dodged by fed-up drivers. If I keep my speed above 20 mph, the cars will stick behind me, but no one can know what is going to spill out from the walls of people surrounding us. It's like the Red Sea has parted and any second it's going to close in on us. Not knowing where or when this may happen only makes us move faster, which in turn increases the likelihood of certain death should the tourist sea topple into the street at the wrong time. I'm especially lucky to be on a little bike; no one sees me.

But it's such a thrill, when I finally break free of a long line of cars and sprint into the narrow corridor between tourists and road, fingers hovering above the brake levers, palms pressed lightly on the handlebars, ready to swerve sharply at a millisecond's notice as I pedal against the ebb and flow of erratic traffic. At the end of The Gauntlet, my reward is five miles of badly cracked, rolling pavement that practically dangles over the narrow precipice between the steep mountainside and the shore. I love it.

As I pedalled back toward my second run through The Gauntlet today, I stopped for a short break on the Sheep Creek bridge. Below me, a gathering crowd of salmon splashed and struggled against the current, bodies flailing and colliding as they fought to gain a few inches upstream. The effort seemed so futile, and yet so intriguing. It made perfect sense to me.

Gunning for 1,000

Date: Aug. 28
Mileage: 41.8
August mileage: 853.4
Temperature upon departure: 57
Rainfall: 0"

August has been full of beautiful days that make me wonder ... is this the last day of summer? The last day of sun before the rainy season really sets in? Last year, August and September brought blocks of wet weather that had to be measured in weeks. Those long stretches of gray brought a sameness to the days ... as though not even time could pass through the thick fog. Then one day I woke up to the sun blazing high in a blue expanse I couldn't even recognize, and there was snow on the ground. Winter came, and no one even warned me.

But today, today was the last day of summer. Unobstructed sunlight failed to even warm the temperature above 60, giving the air a crisp, autumn-like taste. I spun through the school zone clocking at least 5 over the speed limit, nodding at sullen-faced teenagers as they shuffled past with their eyes locked on text messages and lips wrapped around energy drinks. It's the first week of school, and already we can't remember what we did with our summer vacation. All around us, the groundcover was beginning to die ... yellow edges curled the end of giant Devil's Club leaves, blueberries shriveled and fireweed clamped shut.

Today's ride was flawless, and for that I was silently grateful. I was so blissed out that I nearly forgot my place in time and space ... rushing to make it to work in time, knowing I could rush some more, then surprising myself with a lot of time to spare. It made me wonder if I have one more summer goal in me yet. Maybe I could ride my first 1,000-mile month. I have 150 miles to go and three days to do it. It's easy to visualize on the last day of summer, with its warm moments surrendering to nearly effortless miles. Harder to do when looking at the three-day forecast, with its 90 percent chance of rain and 15 mph east winds. But it would be fun to try; and what a way to ring in the rainy season fall.