Date: April 23
Mileage: 33.1
April mileage: 569.1
Temperature: 43
I've been trying to reinvent my road bike as a do-all commuter, so it was in several pieces in the living room when my cats woke me up at an unspeakable hour this morning. I had a lot of time to kill before work (and my commute to work), but I wasn't looking forward to restarting my rack installation/tire changing/light mounting/pedal-swapping project. I decided I was going to take the Karate Monkey out for a morning spin on pavement before I finished fixing my preferred bike.
But when I went to the basement to grab it, I noticed the seat was still on Pugsley (I still only own one saddle and seatpost for my Surlys, and I have to swap it out between the two.) I was so, so lazy this morning that I didn't even feel like turning a wrench on a seatpost clamp. I grabbed Pugsley instead.
The tires were inflated to only about 7 or 8 psi from recent runs on soft snow, but I was so, so lazy that I didn't even want to put air in the tires. "Where can I go where it won't matter if I'm on bouncy wheels?" I only have to pedal a half mile from my house before I reach the Mount Jumbo access trail. This was the first point in which I thought about snow biking today.
Soft and punchy was the theme of the day, but rideable the snow still is - at least on slight inclines and downhills. It took only minutes to climb up to the meadow and just like that - a world apart.
Mount Jumbo looked like avalanche central. It's hard to tell from the shadows in this photo, but to the immediate left of the peak, there is an overhanging ceiling of pure snow that must be at least 20 feet deep. I kept staring at it, waiting for a wall of powder to peel off the slope. Meanwhile, I skirted along sidehills and made often-dead-ending efforts to stay far away from the mountain.
Even so, there's still enough good terrain up there to consume a whole day. The snow pack is definitely rotting, and I was surprised to discover Pugsley was getting better float than I could. The going was always slow, but when I started fishtailing out of control, I would put my foot down only to sink thigh-deep in the oatmeal-like slush. Strange to climb out of that, get back on my bike, and start rolling again.
After riding down, I took a detour onto the beach that, thanks to low tide, became a long detour. Crushing mussel shells, crunching over barnacle boulders and and mashing through sand put a big smile on my face. I was freewheeling again, loving life, loving Juneau, happy.
It was exactly what I needed. Thanks, Pugsley.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Our last ride of spring
Date: April 21 and 22
Mileage: 40 and 29.2
April mileage: 536
Temperature: 42 and 45
I traced the emerging trail beneath a canopy of spruce trees, dripping snowmelt and strings of moss onto still-frozen mud. I reconnected with the paved bike path and rolled back to Geoff, who was parked on a bench and inhaling a sandwich.
"Still a lot of snow back there?" he asked.
"It won't be too long now before this town has real mountain biking," I said.
"Not soon enough," he said. He held out the remaining piece of sandwich. Tuna and mayo on pumpernickel bread. I wrinkled my nose. "How bout a Tootsie Roll then?"
I took the chilled piece of candy and popped it in my mouth. It was meaty and a little bit stale from possibly a few too many rides in Geoff's coat pocket. I kicked a piece of ice onto the grass, short and dead in April. I wasn't even thinking about the promise of May. I was wondering why there weren't corpses of August flowers everywhere. "I can't believe you're willing to leave this all behind," I said.
Geoff smirked. "It's not too late to come with me."
"Yes it is."
"What do you think you'll do?" he asked.
I shrugged. "I'm pretty sure I'm going to quit biking. I think I'll get some Direct TV or whatever the cable companies are pushing these days, and put in some good time on the couch with Bon-Bons."
"Bon-Bons?"
"Ok, Cheetos. And Coco Puffs straight from the box. The works. I'm really going to put in the hours this summer. Next time you see me, you're not even going to recognize me."
"You'll have to get a working TV first."
"I hear they sell those at stores these days."
Geoff laughed and looked away. "Whatever. You're probably exicted not to have me around bothering you and trying to feed you real food anymore. I know you're just going to end up riding 100 miles every day."
"I wish it was as easy as that," I said.
Geoff reached into his coat pocket. "You want another Tootsie Roll?"
"No," I said. I squinted at his watch. "Is it really noon?" He nodded. "I really have to go," I said. "I'm going to be late for work. How much further are you going?"
"I'm going to try to get 100 today," Geoff said. He stuck the Tootise Roll in his mouth and we rode together to the end of the bike path. I turned back and he kept going, toward summer.
Long summer.
Mileage: 40 and 29.2
April mileage: 536
Temperature: 42 and 45
I traced the emerging trail beneath a canopy of spruce trees, dripping snowmelt and strings of moss onto still-frozen mud. I reconnected with the paved bike path and rolled back to Geoff, who was parked on a bench and inhaling a sandwich.
"Still a lot of snow back there?" he asked.
"It won't be too long now before this town has real mountain biking," I said.
"Not soon enough," he said. He held out the remaining piece of sandwich. Tuna and mayo on pumpernickel bread. I wrinkled my nose. "How bout a Tootsie Roll then?"
I took the chilled piece of candy and popped it in my mouth. It was meaty and a little bit stale from possibly a few too many rides in Geoff's coat pocket. I kicked a piece of ice onto the grass, short and dead in April. I wasn't even thinking about the promise of May. I was wondering why there weren't corpses of August flowers everywhere. "I can't believe you're willing to leave this all behind," I said.
Geoff smirked. "It's not too late to come with me."
"Yes it is."
"What do you think you'll do?" he asked.
I shrugged. "I'm pretty sure I'm going to quit biking. I think I'll get some Direct TV or whatever the cable companies are pushing these days, and put in some good time on the couch with Bon-Bons."
"Bon-Bons?"
"Ok, Cheetos. And Coco Puffs straight from the box. The works. I'm really going to put in the hours this summer. Next time you see me, you're not even going to recognize me."
"You'll have to get a working TV first."
"I hear they sell those at stores these days."
Geoff laughed and looked away. "Whatever. You're probably exicted not to have me around bothering you and trying to feed you real food anymore. I know you're just going to end up riding 100 miles every day."
"I wish it was as easy as that," I said.
Geoff reached into his coat pocket. "You want another Tootsie Roll?"
"No," I said. I squinted at his watch. "Is it really noon?" He nodded. "I really have to go," I said. "I'm going to be late for work. How much further are you going?"
"I'm going to try to get 100 today," Geoff said. He stuck the Tootise Roll in his mouth and we rode together to the end of the bike path. I turned back and he kept going, toward summer.
Long summer.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
I need a new training goal
Date: April 20
Mileage: 29.2
April mileage: 466.8
Temperature: 41
The rash of nice weather continues, and I feel like I should have endless, boundless energy - the self-perpetuating kind that feeds off warmth and light and gives me the boost I need to launch into summer. But instead I just feel a little sluggish, a little weighted, a little too tempted to crawl back into bed for early morning naps. The stamina's not there. I lack motivation. And focus.
Focus is something I need right now. In two days, Geoff leaves to head south for the summer and I need some projects to ward off the loneliness. Now would be a great time to prepare for a big event, if only I had one to work toward. I have some ideas, but nothing that really warrant the necessary vacation time or expense. I was thinking of embarking on a fast tour somewhere, but do I really want to burn a week of vacation to spend more time by myself? Lower 48 races are out of my league. Southeast Alaska has almost nothing to offer. I browsed the local bike club site today and found a bunch of 12-mile time trials and short mountain bike races on Saturday afternoons, when I'm at work.
I already have plans to head up to Whitehorse for the 24 Hours of Light, on June 28. But I'm torn about how to train for this race. For starters, I'm tempted to join a noncompetitve team of four or eight because I know I'll have so much more fun that way. But I'm also interested in riding a hard 24 Solo and really trying to push myself. It's a little silly, however, to attempt a 24 Solo in event like the 24 Hours of Light. If I'm riding laps the whole time, I'll completely miss out on the mountain bike festival atmosphere, which is the best part of that event. I'm also likely to have little to no competition. I "won" last year's solo race by beating out the only other solo woman 13 laps to 4 laps - and I stopped and partied for the whole second half of the race. It's probably going to be kind of hard to motivate for those 4 a.m. laps when I'm 10 laps ahead of the second-place competitor and there's no Geoff there to cheer me on, because he's out in Colorado somewhere doing something much more difficult.
I'm just drifting a little right now, and I don't have any great ideas.
Mileage: 29.2
April mileage: 466.8
Temperature: 41
The rash of nice weather continues, and I feel like I should have endless, boundless energy - the self-perpetuating kind that feeds off warmth and light and gives me the boost I need to launch into summer. But instead I just feel a little sluggish, a little weighted, a little too tempted to crawl back into bed for early morning naps. The stamina's not there. I lack motivation. And focus.
Focus is something I need right now. In two days, Geoff leaves to head south for the summer and I need some projects to ward off the loneliness. Now would be a great time to prepare for a big event, if only I had one to work toward. I have some ideas, but nothing that really warrant the necessary vacation time or expense. I was thinking of embarking on a fast tour somewhere, but do I really want to burn a week of vacation to spend more time by myself? Lower 48 races are out of my league. Southeast Alaska has almost nothing to offer. I browsed the local bike club site today and found a bunch of 12-mile time trials and short mountain bike races on Saturday afternoons, when I'm at work.
I already have plans to head up to Whitehorse for the 24 Hours of Light, on June 28. But I'm torn about how to train for this race. For starters, I'm tempted to join a noncompetitve team of four or eight because I know I'll have so much more fun that way. But I'm also interested in riding a hard 24 Solo and really trying to push myself. It's a little silly, however, to attempt a 24 Solo in event like the 24 Hours of Light. If I'm riding laps the whole time, I'll completely miss out on the mountain bike festival atmosphere, which is the best part of that event. I'm also likely to have little to no competition. I "won" last year's solo race by beating out the only other solo woman 13 laps to 4 laps - and I stopped and partied for the whole second half of the race. It's probably going to be kind of hard to motivate for those 4 a.m. laps when I'm 10 laps ahead of the second-place competitor and there's no Geoff there to cheer me on, because he's out in Colorado somewhere doing something much more difficult.
I'm just drifting a little right now, and I don't have any great ideas.
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