Friendly fall

Date: Nov. 23
Mileage: 26.2
November mileage: 662.9

Today I went "snowshoeing" up the Mount Jumbo trail without ever actually strapping my snowshoes on. The snow was just too uneven - as much as thigh-deep out in the open, but barely covering the ground beneath the trees. By the time I reached the really steep pitches of the mountain, sinking up to my knees in snow was preventing backsliding much more effectively than the snowshoes could.

I took what must have been a rather spectacular fall on the way down. It's a shame no one else was around to see it. Back at elevations where there was only about a half-inch of snow on the ground, I managed to wedge my foot beneath a root protruding out of the dirt. It completely halted what at the time was a pretty fast descent, and sent my body tipping forward down a 60-degree slope. Many seconds seemed to pass as I dropped through dead space. I actually had time to think about pulling my arms to my chest and did so - thereby possibly avoiding a broken wrist. Memory has a way of rewriting these moments as long periods - the way entire lifetimes can pass before eyes in a flash - but I swear I went through the motions of denial, terror, and finally acceptance before I hit. Shoulder first, then chin, turning a complete cartwheel before landing on my back. I laid on the ground somewhat stunned for a few seconds before I realized that I didn't feel hurt at all. I didn't even really feel the shock of impact. I stood up to brush the slush and mud of my clothes, making sure nothing was broken, and wondering just how I came out of the fall unscathed. As I looked at the ground where my body had brushed away the thin layer of snow, I saw thick clumps of moss. The moss was covering another layer of spongy mulch. I knelt and pressed my hands against the soil. It was as soft as a pillow. Karma smiled on me today. It was a simple act of tripping, but it just as easily could have gone badly.

I remain a complete klutz on my feet. That's the main reason I'll never be a trail runner.

Southeast Alaska armor

Date: Nov. 22
Mileage: 30.1
November mileage: 636.7

My friend Brian took this photo today during a random drive-by on the North Douglas Highway (hope it's OK that I posted it on my blog, Brian.) I think it shows me in my element - draped in a baggy, dripping coat and riding through grimy slop in the rain. It also shows the clothing system I've settled on and am actually pretty happy with when it comes to dealing with common coastal Alaska riding conditions.

During the winter in Juneau, it's common for the city to receive a few inches of snow overnight before rain takes over during the day. The snow turns to slop and slush, and rain continues to fall from the sky, resulting in conditions that can only be described as "cold and wet." Underline the wet. I've done a lot of trial and error runs, and finally arrived on a clothing set-up that can keep me warm for at least five hours. I haven't yet had the mental stamina to test it any longer in what is admittedly not my most favorite weather to ride in, but my theory is I could go most the day and stay relatively warm (excepting the occasional frigid downhill runs):

1. Gortex shell: Gortex actually does a pretty good job of keeping rain out, although my coat is large enough that slush does find its way in from the bottom.
2. Fleece pullover and polypro long-sleeve shirt: It seems polar fleece and polypro retain about the same insulation value regardless of whether they're wet or dry.
3. Mittens: Ski mittens and gloves are almost never actually waterproof, so if I'm going out longer than three hours, I usually take my handlebar mitts (pogies).
4. Rain pants: I don't own a pair of waterproof rain pants either, but spinning pedals keeps my legs warm enough that I don't worry too much about the wet factor on my legs. Keeping the wind away from wet mid and base layers is important; that's the main reason for the rain pants and the Gortex coat.
5. Polypro tights: Good insulator, and they don't soak up too much water.
6. NEOS overboots: After a couple years of chain rub and duct tape patches, my pair are admittedly no longer waterproof, although the used to be. Keeping the feets dry is key.
7. 50-below Arctic wool socks: Crucial once the feets do get wet.
8. Random shoes: Usually a pair of running shoes.
9. Ear warmer: I find it's easiest to regulate heat through my hands and head. Keeping a light layer on my head prevents me from overheating and sweating too much. Alternately, I carry a heavy hat to put on when I get cold.

So that's my wet snain/sleet/snow armor. I used to think it was impossible to stay out longer than three hours when the weather was in the 30s and wet. I no longer believe this, although I still like to avoid it when I can. (Too bad my gym membership expired.)

*****

Late Edit: I wanted to thank Dave C. for an insightful and illuminating review of my book. He took time out of his busy grad school schedule to write what could be a paper in and of itself (believe me, I wrote a lot of lit papers as an English major), and it's given me a few new angles to reflect on in this whole experience. Thanks. :-)

Sidetracked

Date: Nov. 20 and 21
Mileage: 22.7 and 56.4
November mileage: 605.6

I had a five-hour ride planned for today, the beginning of my weekly "long ride" series in which I ride an hour longer each time and eventually start adding extra days. Five hours is always the first of the focused efforts. I planned a hard, steady ride out the road. The goal was a steady tempo pace with no breaks, but I stopped at the Mendenhall Visitor Center to use the bathroom and got completely sidetracked by the beautiful state of the Valley trails.

An inch or two of fresh snow had been hardened in the just-below-freezing air to a dense crust, nicely grippy and fast. I wound through the forest surrounding the Dredge Lake area and then hit up the tight singletrack near Montana Creek. For someone of my skill level, mountain biking is by necessity less effort than riding on the road. I often have to stop to walk around rock gardens or up an icy hill after spinning out. There's enough stop and go, hesitating over a tough obstacle at 4 mph and coasting down hills that it really is not quite as strenuous of a workout. But my technical skills continue to improve encouragingly, and you can't beat the fun factor.

Not that the road riding wasn't fun and gorgeous as well. I had a really good day today. It's true the ride itself was really no longer than those I've taken on recent weekends. I'm starting out slow by design, but I have to say, I can't wait until it's time to crank out some 8 and 10 and 12-hour days, coasting through the eerie darkness, listening to the crackle of my studs on fresh ice.