Rocky start

Date: April 27
Mileage: 31.5
April mileage: 717.9
Temperature: 45

The rain was coming in sideways when I felt my rear rim dragging on pavement. I pulled over to the side of the road to assess where I was; I had been squinting into the dim yellow circle cast by my headlight for so long that I wasn’t even sure. I shifted my trunk bag to reach my repair gear when it dawned on me that the headlight was in fact my only source of light. There was no way to illuminate the wheel so I could change the flat. I clip clopped in my cleats down the road, grumbling about how I really should have switched out my pedals when I had the chance. I walked nearly a half mile before I reached the nearest street light. Slimy brake dust goo and grit dripped down my fingers as I removed the rim. The rest of the flat change went quickly, but as I stood up to leave, I realized that the jeans I was wearing, covered by my very best pair of rain pants, had already soaked through. The denim chafed and scraped my thighs as I started pedaling. Stupidly, I had left them on because I thought they would keep me warmer than my wet tights. I stopped to adjust my pants. It was 11:15 p.m. My socks were soaked. My gloves were soaked. The headwind was so strong I had barely cracked 10 mph since I left work. "Could this commute be going much worse?" I thought. That's when I noticed my red blinkie was missing from my trunk bag.

Today was day five of my summer as an everyday bicycle commuter. Today was also day five of my summer as a single person. I can’t say either is going very well, but at least I can still attribute the glitches to growing pains. Packing for the commute has been an experiment in disarray. I've been using a rear pannier, a trunk bag and a Camelbak just to carry all the crap I have with me, and still every day I forget something crucial ... my bike lock, a salad I had planned to eat for dinner, dry socks, the key card I need to get into the building. When the weather is similar to what it has been these past two days - steady rain with sustained 20-25 mph winds - I've learned I need two pairs of gloves, two pairs of underwear, two pairs of socks, rain coat and pants, my regular bike clothes, and my work clothes. If I don't carry two pairs of regular bike clothes, I either have to put wet clothes on when I leave, or wear my work clothes home, as I did yesterday. My office is set up "newsroom" style (i.e. a cubicle without the cubicle) Company decorum dictates that I can't hang up wet clothes everywhere, so everything but my coat and pants gets stuffed in a drawer, where it stays wet.

As I suspected, the wetness has been tough. I still get out in the morning for workouts. Today I did a quick-but-strenuous block of intervals over 19 miles, came home soaked, took a shower, and then had to head back out in the weather to go to work.

And I have to admit that I leave work thinking, "Hmm. I could be in a warm car right now. I could be home in 10 minutes." I leave work at 11 and all I'm interested in is being at home. I do not want to be riding my bike in the rain.

I also miss my dinner breaks. I used to take an hour every day to go home and eat dinner with Geoff. Now that he's gone, there's no reason for me to go home for dinner. So instead I take about 20 minutes and eat a salad in the company break room. Spending my entire shift at the office sure makes the workday seem longer. But I'm not about to go back out in the weather.

That said, I'm going to stick with the bike commuting. I'm hoping routine kicks in to make it less stressful, and experience kicks in to make it more enjoyable. I figure bike commuting is like endurance racing ... suffering is what makes the experience worthwhile.

Video blog: Beach cruising

Date: April 26
Mileage: 24.2
April mileage: 686.4
Temperature: 49

Yes, I know these videos are pretty silly. But I have fun with them. Isn't that what matters?

Today's song is "My Rights Versus Yours," by the New Pornographers.

Living simply, simply living

Date: April 25
Mileage: 57.6
April mileage: 662.2
Temperature: 51

My housemate and I have agreed to shut off the heat as a way to conserve energy in this time of electricity famine. Although it's spring now and the weather has been really nice this week, the temperatures still drop into the low 30s at night and our northeast-facing apartment doesn't see much direct sunlight. The whole house has this icebox feel to it. The last time I walked by the thermostat, it read 57 degrees. I was really, really tempted to turn it up. But instead, I headed back out on my Pugsley for a little trail time after riding nearly 50 miles earlier today. Having no heat is actually a great motivator to get out. Cycling is still the best way to stay warm.

Right now in Juneau, saving energy is on everyone's mind. The prospect of having your electric bill increase fivefold will do that. The electric company recently reported that in a week's time, Juneau's energy use dropped 20 percent. It continues to drop more every day. People are making a conscious effort to turn off lights and appliances. They're hanging clotheslines in their living rooms (Drying clothes outside is rarely feasible in Juneau, although it has been possible this week.) My housemate and I went through and unplugged most of the cords in our house. Since I dislike cooking anyway, I happily stick to my salads and sandwiches and leave the stove turned off. We keep the refrigerator on - it seems like a luxury now. As does the computer, although it's off a lot longer these days.

It actually feels good to make these little sacrifices. Not because we're saving a ton of money (although, with the heat turned off, we are.) And not because we're staving off the burning of emissions-spewing fuel (although I do feel strongly about doing my part, I have my fair share of pessimism in this regard.) No, giving up a few electric luxuries feels good because it makes me feel more self-sufficient. I don't need electric heat to survive. I wouldn't even need it if it were winter - I'd pull out my -40 degree sleeping bag, my down jacket, my boots, my coats. There must be a reason I own all of that stuff beyond the agony of winter camping. It's survival gear, and I cherish it, because it means I'm free.

That's also the same reason I've resolved to become a more dedicated bike commuter. I was much too dependent on my car, even though I mainly used it as a way to travel to work in dignity (i.e. not showing up at the office wind-blasted, grit-coated and dripping rainwater.) But the truth is, I can duck into the bathroom, change my clothes, blow-dry my hair, and still walk up the stairs in dignity. It really was just an excuse to justify my car dependency. But eventually (and probably soon) that car is going to break down for good, and I'd like to believe I don't need to replace it. Because if I'm free to not own a car, I'm free to divert more of my time and income into the things I truly enjoy. So, yes, I'm aiming to go car-free for completely selfish reasons.

I really believe that the less dependent I am on things, the happier I can be. Of course I still have things I can't live without - my bicycles, my cats, my -40 degree sleeping bag, the poisonous cans of Diet Pepsi that I suckle with reckless abandon. I'm not aiming for extremes. I'm just trying to strike a balance between owning nothing and being owned by things ... a happy place, more freedom to move, more space to live.