Dead end

Date: Sept. 5
Mileage: 127.4
September mileage: 213.2

Today I set out to ride what I called the "Dead End Tour" - pedaling to the end of every major road in Juneau and back: Douglas Highway, Thane, Mendenhall Glacier, Echo Cove. The weather was on the nice side of mostly cloudy, so it was not hard to get revved up about heading out for a long ride. I purposely set the start time at 10:30 so I would have a time crunch on top of the distance goal. I had eight hours before I needed to be home and in the shower in time to make it to my friends' house for dinner. That meant I was going to have to keep a solid pace of 16 mph and not take more than a couple short breaks.

The pace started out hard at first; I was not feeling fantastic for most of the Douglas Island leg. But by the time I hit the mainland, my energy level started to improve. After two hours, I ate my first Power Bar, even though I didn't feel like eating it, in keeping with my vowed fuel regimen of at least one Power Bar every two hours. By the time I returned from Thane and moved into the long leg at mile 43, I felt like my day was just getting started.

The next leg, all 80 miles of it, was about as ideal as a road bike ride can be for me. It was painless without being too slow, and fun without being too easy. I was lost in thought for much of the ride, looping through an onslaught of memories and considerations and daydreams, only to snap back to reality in a rush of endorphins and realize I was climbing a hill at full bore. Without even thinking too much about it, I was keeping my odometer consistent, using the solitude time to think about my life, quietly observing the first changing colors of autumn and the elaborate cloud formations, and devouring the glut of happy chemicals that stack up whenever I turn pedals for long spans of time. It was a perfect ride ... the kind of ride in which I feel both elated and relaxed ... the kind of ride that makes me wonder why anyone would use illicit drugs when it's possible to feel this way naturally. It really didn't feel like 127 miles and it certainly didn't feel like eight hours. I had to shoot the picture just to be sure.

I walked in the door thinking, "Wow, I'm not it too bad of shape right now. Eight hours consistent and not feeling wasted, not even really feeling all that off ... I could certainly go much longer." That happy realization and the good mood it created might have lasted all evening if I just neglected to check my e-mail before heading to dinner, but no, I had to check my e-mail. I got the final word from my boss. I can't take that first full week in October off. The answer was no.

Which means no Trans Utah for me.

Talk about an enormous buzz kill. Beyond the excitement about the event itself, it's the thing that's gotten me out there in the rain and wind and eight-hour road extravaganzas, much of which I've been reluctant to do and which I've struggled through parts, but most of which has been ultimately rewarding and a huge motivator to keep me happy through the long work days, especially now that I'm living alone with four cats again. It's easy to say that I could endurance train anyway, without Trans Utah on the horizon, but it's harder in practice without that carrot on a stick. Plus, this is just another one of those things that cause me to ask myself ... why am I living alone with four cats and working so hard just to have my only reward be to work harder? Not that I'm about to join Geoff in the alternate lifestyle of living out of my car and running ultras, but the question does linger.

Maybe something to think about on my next long ride.

By the way: Geoff is out running the Wasatch 100 as of 5 a.m. MDT Saturday! I think the race is posting live results here.

My Sarah Palin experiences

I'm not about to use my bike blog to air my political views about the 2008 election or the speeches in the Republican National Convention, although I have to admit, I'm always disappointed by the weight given to the delivery of political speeches when what matters is the content, and the convictions behind the content. But no! That's not why I'm writing this quick post. I have an hour to burn before I head out for my day-long bike ride, and it seems all the cool Alaska bloggers are blogging about Sarah Palin these days, so I thought I'd take my turn, and share my own Palin anecdotes. Especially now that I'm receiving e-mails from strangers about it.

How well I know Sarah: I've never actually met the woman or spoken to her, although I did pass up several Juneau meet-and-greets. I've only seen her twice walking down the street, always with young aide-type people, never with a huge body-guard contingent. A good friend of mine works right above Sarah's office in the building opposite the Capitol. She told me she can look out her window and see our governor typing away at her computer. She said if she were a sniper, she'd have a direct shot. I wonder now if she sort of wishes she took it. (Kidding, kidding.)

The eBay jet: Now we have another popular talking point, the unpopular jet purchased by the people of Alaska for one greedy former Gov. Frank Murkowski, which our hero Sarah Palin put up for sale on eBay to protest big bad self-centered government. Geoff and I actually bid on this jet last fall, pledging our eBay accounts to purchase the plane for a cool $1.4 million. Unfortunately, we did not meet the state's reserve price. Nor did anyone else. The jet never sold on eBay. I'm not sure how the state got rid of it - probably through a licensed broker.

The Bridge to Nowhere: Sarah Palin's flip-flop on this issue is inarguable. She undoubtedly told residents of Ketchikan that she supported building the Gravina Bridge before the 2006 election, then took all the federal money, said Alaska wasn't ready to build the Gravina Bridge, and distributed it to other state highway projects. One topic I'm surprised hasn't come up more is Juneau's "Road to Nowhere," a road that would do little more than carry our ferry terminal 70 miles north and cost several hundred million dollars to build. Palin also supported this project during the election, then immediately squashed all of Murkowski's hard-fought recon work and abandoned the road project as soon as she took office.

Juno from Juneau: Yup, I've even been receiving e-mails about Bristol. I'm surprised more evil liberal blogger attention isn't being paid to how strange all of the Palin kids' names are. My friend has this theory that each Palin child was named after the place where he or she was conceived. Track is a place Sarah Palin used to run around when she was a high school athlete. Bristol is a popular place to be a commercial fisherman. Willow is the Mat-Su Valley town that almost became our state's capital during the last big capital-move push. Piper is an airplane. And Trig ... he's still trying to figure that one out. Levi is a popular name in Utah, with Mormon origins. But my friend found the baby daddy's MySpace page, and he can say with confidence that Levi is definitely a product of Wasilla. Not sure what that means ...

Well, it's about time for me to go for my ride. Sorry for this random post. I couldn't resist.

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.