Parents part two

Date: June 15 and 16
Mileage: 19.4 and 28.0
June mileage: 420.0

I feel much more exhausted right now than I do when I'm cycling all the time. Strange to feel like I'm on vacation in my own hometown, but it's been a good week.

Dad in snow.

Mom in snow.

Dad and I rode out to Herbert Glacier. I was bouncing over the big boulders of the glacier moraine, thinking that was terrain only Pugsley could handle, and looked over my shoulder only to see Dad right on my tail on the Karate Monkey, with the fork still locked out no less.

He's a natural on a mountain bike. I guess years of dirtbiking on the rugged trails of the Utah desert will help with that.

Even out the road into the wind, the pace kept up. Riding Pugsley on the road felt like a pedaling a reconfigured paddle boat with two flat tires. I can't believe I spend entire winters on that thing. But I guess the glacier moraine riding can't be beaten, except by my dad.

Together we made the year's first attempt of Mount Juneau. After a couple of heart-stopping, scary steep snow crossings, we lost the trail entirely and ended up way off the route on the west face of the mountain. We bagged it there, about 3,000 feet up. A good attempt. I feel so much braver when I'm hiking with my dad. I think it goes back to my teenage years when I believed he would always be there to protect me. I still feel that way.

Don't forget to go over the Fatty's site to fight cancer and win a great bike.

Back to your regularly scheduled programming tomorrow.

The parents in Juneau

Date: June 12 and 14
Mileage: 12.1 and 17.1
June mileage: 372.6

My parents flew up from Salt Lake City for a few days. This is the first time they've visited Juneau. They weather's been blah and I've already dragged my mom on more hikes than I think she would prefer, but the Alaska bug has burrowed in. She seems genuinely excited for the next day's adventures, even if the shopping is somewhat sub par ("How many Glacier Soap stores are there?")

My dad caught his first king salmon, a 25-pound, 34-inch monster. Later we trekked up Mount Roberts; Mom motored the whole way up, and didn't even complain when the hot chocolate stand at the Tramway was closed. Later we had the most delicious, melt-in-your mouth salmon dinner. Nice to have someone in the house who can cook, again.

Mom thought Pugsley was a riot, and Dad and I went on eBay and searched for his first non-motorized bike in what must be decades. He bought a nice, steel-framed Trek 820, perfecting for commuting and long jaunts around the Salt Lake Valley. I'm working on turning my parents into Alaskans, but first I'm going to turn them into cyclists.

I am not my job

Date: June 10 and 11
Mileage: 12.1 and 42.7
June mileage: 343.4
Temperature: 51 and 55

It's been a rough couple of months at my place of employment. And, like the stock market and oil speculation, things just keep getting bleaker. Today the Powers That Be pulled us all into the conference room. Being gathered as a group is never a good thing these days, and everyone in the room sat in shadowed silence, braced for bad news.

The latest cut is our retirement benefits. Indefinitely. There was wide-eyed shock before the protests began. "Human capital is all you have." "We are this industry." "Our attrition rate is at an all-time high right now. Those of us who remain are already weighted beyond capacity and hanging on by threads. We live in one of the highest cost-of-living cities in the U.S., and now you're giving us one less reason to stay?"

The PTB just leaned back in his chair, himself just a messenger of the Corporate Overlords. He nodded in empathy and didn't really have to say it. The economy is tanking. Our industry is dying. What are you going to do?

I don't know. I guess I'll just keep riding my bike.