Tasty Thursday

Date: Sept. 3
Mileage: 32.5
September mileage: 85.8

Brian and I had a successful day out at South Island - three silvers and a baby halibut, and enough failed action to keep us rushing around the small boat for the better part of the day. Part of the draw for me was a chance to motor all the way out to a point 20 miles south of Juneau, down Stephens Passage and along the Glass Peninsula - places I have never seen, as close as they are to my home. New space is always appealing, whether I get there on a bike or in a fishing boat, and if I can venture outside the all-inclusive border of the City and Borough of Juneau, all the better.

On the way back to town, the prop on Brian's motor spun out and broke. Brian was pretty bummed about it as we limped back into port at trolling speed. "This probably ends my season," he said. Special-order part that could take a couple weeks to come ... then the fix ... and by then the big storms of fall will have settled in. Just as I started to say something sympathetic, Brian said, "This would be like someone running over Pugsley." The quieted me down, because I finally understood what he was losing with his broken boat. It's interesting how much happiness stock we put in our toys - not that I think that's a bad thing. Just interesting.

But even Brian agreed today wasn't a bad way to end the fishing season - drifting through the mist to a point in the world that you can still have all to yourself for an entire day. That we caught a healthy number of fish during a time when no one's been catching much was a bonus. I grilled up a halibut fillet for dinner. Since Geoff left town in mid-August, I'd have to say that halibut was the first real meal I cooked for myself, and one of only about three home-cooked dinners I've eaten. There are few things more satisfying than coming home wet and cold from a long day of fishing, changing into something soft and dry (with thick wool socks), tossing up a big veggie salad with a fruit salad on the side for dessert, and pan-frying a two-hour-old halibut slab to perfection. I use safflower oil and a little lemon, salt and pepper. That's all you need. Then purposely undercook it, just a little. It's like eating a moist, warm cloud ... a cloud that's tart, rich and satisfying. Fresh halibut is hard to wreck, so for someone like me who doesn't cook, preparing something that's so delicately delicious is especially enjoyable.

I renewed my gym pass tonight and spent 80 minutes after dinner running intervals to try to burn off the pound of halibut I inhaled. I had hoped to save my money and do all of my fall training outside, but I had a change of heart and decided not to be a hero about it. I'm recognizing that training 100 percent outside during the fall is probably just a quick road to burn-out, so I'm going to take indoor breaks from time to time.

Then and now

Top of Mount Juneau, looking toward the Treadwell Gold Mine and the Gastineau Channel; U.S. Geological Survey Photographic Library, circa 1906.

Top of Mount Juneau, looking toward Douglas and the Gastineau Channel; Aug. 5, 2008.

Sometimes, we I feel like I'm approaching a threshold of change, I like to step back and think about the things that don't change.

Transitions

Date: Sept. 1 and 2
Mileage: 25.0 and 28.3
September mileage: 53.3

I blogged last week about my goal of trying to put in a heavy-duty week of harder training to see how my fitness is holding up. The training didn't go quite as planned - I had a little mental burnout in the rain on Thursday and being called in to work prevented me from completing a long ride on Friday. But overall, it has been going well. I have been seeking out hills and riding them harder, heading out earlier and riding longer, and recovering well after long hikes, which is where I get my real climbing in (and build those oh-so-under appreciated hike-a-bike muscles.)

Why am I doing all this? Well, I mentioned a month or so ago about my interest in heading down to my home state in October to ride Trans Utah. I still want to do it. My big obstacle is still acquiring the time I need off work, which I am working on (gently) with my boss, but that's still a huge 'if.' If I can get the time off work, though, I've decided I want to do it. There are a lot of reasons why I shouldn't do it, and a few more reasons why I probably won't be able to, but still the desire lingers. I have yet to get my redrock fix this year, and imagining the warm glow of evening light sweeping across sandstone vistas as I roll along a rim on my mountain bike makes me more than wistful - it makes me jittery. Until the desert isn't just something I want. It's something I need.

But since Trans Utah is hard and will kill me if I don't get the best gauge I can on my base fitness level, I have to train a little right now on the off chance I can go.

These past two days have been relatively mellow, but I am going to try to ramp it up again for the rest of the week. Dave H. posted the ride stats today, so I have a lot to motivate me:

Elevation. The low elevation is 2,500 feet. Low elevation. Where I live, if you're at 2,500 feet, you're above treeline. I do almost all of my bike training below 1,000 feet. Which means the high elevation of 10,200 feet is going to hurt. Probably a lot. Not much I can do about that now; just hoping my formerly-mountain-dwelling cells have some kind of biological memory.

44,700 feet of climbing. That's just crazy talk. But I actually think I'm in pretty good shape for climbing. Not that I've put in any 10,000-foot days lately, but I'm recovering well from my harder climbs, and I am also pretty good at maintaining a steady (read: slow) pace through varying grades. If I can somehow put up with the heat, hydration and altitude, I think I'll be OK for the climbing.

320 miles. I'd like to do it in six days or less. If I go into it and this doesn't seem at all possible, I'll go as far as I can reasonably go in six days and take the most convenient bail-out. I can honestly say that I am not headed to Utah for any kind of supreme personal challenge or race. I am headed to Utah to go to Utah. The fact that Dave H. spent the past year drawing up a specialized mountain bike tour through some of the most beautiful country in the world is the big draw.

Gear. Lots of fun stuff to acquire. There is still the question of whether or not Geoff is going to do this ride. If he doesn't, I have nearly everything I need. But I am still hoping he has a change of heart and decides to ride with me. He's worried because he's not in any kind of cycling shape; he's had a pretty tough fall training season for the Wasatch 100 and a tough one ahead for the Iditarod Invitational 350. I keep trying to convince him that even my ambitious cycling pace is still supremely mellow compared to what he does. But if he doesn't go, I'll be able to use his sleeping bag, SPOT tracker, water filtration system and my own Epic Designs bags. All I'll need to figure out is food.

Bike. I have to figure out how to get my Karate Monkey in prime shape and in Utah. Given how much I despise Fed Ex, this is not going to be easy.

I have prepared much less for much longer bike tours and made it through OK. I think this could be a humbling and exhilarating experience, whether I do it alone or with Geoff. So I really hope it can work out.