Much better

Date: Jan. 7
Mileage: 38.1
January mileage: 175.9
Temperature upon departure: -5

Wednesday, cold-weather acclimating, 38 miles, 4.5 hours. Clear cold weather arrived as promised this morning. I was giddy about it. Not only was it a (brief) respite from the snow, but it also was a chance to try out some gear combinations I have been thinking about running. I wanted to ride longer than four and a half hours. But it seems that although I possess the willpower to drag myself outside in subzero weather, I am still unable to drag myself out of bed earlier than 8 a.m. Before I receive criticism from early risers, I just want to say: You try working until close to midnight and then get up before dawn in the midst of a four-hour-a-day cold-weather training binge. It's not easy.

The last time I went riding in the danger cold - New Years Day - I found myself dangerously close to hypothermia. The last time I went riding in hard subzero windchill - yesterday - I sustained mild frostnip on the tip of my left thumb. So today I gave a lot of thought to how I dressed and what I packed. I added an extra layer on both the top and bottom - polyester longjohns and polar fleece pullover. I also crammed my helmet onto an extra thick fleece balaclava and wore a neoprene face mask. And I used my bike pogies instead of mittens. Amazing what a difference a few small additions can make. A world of difference. The difference between quiet suffering and exhilarating freedom.

It was about 5 below zero in downtown Juneau, with cold mist wafting off the "warm" seawater of the Gastineau Channel.

I rode out to the Valley for a couple hours of trail riding. Before I left the house, I loaded up my bike with an excessive amount of clothing, food, and a couple random objects just to add weight. I've resolved to start riding with more weight to get used to the sheer grind of a loaded bike. I also tried out the water system I am thinking about going with in the race - one 32-ounce bottle in an insulated sleeve on the handlebars, and a 6-liter MSR bladder in pack on my back. I don't plan to typically carry six (well, seven) liters of water, but I did today, just to see if it bothered me. And to tell you the truth, I didn't even notice the extra weight. At all. I'm sure I was moving slower, but when it's minus double digits out, there's an east wind kicking up, and the whole world is washed in stunning color and light, you tend to have other things on your mind than your excessively heavy backpack.

The air felt extra frigid on Dredge Lake (a sinkhole on the glacier moraine), so I pulled out my thermometer to see what the temperature was. The red line was barely there, a little sliver hovering above the bottom-out zone of minus 20. That would make it 17 or 18 below zero - officially the coldest temperature I've ever seen in Juneau, and, with the exception of last year's Iditarod race and its 30 below on the Farewell Burn, the coldest temperature I've ever ridden in. And the amazing thing about it is that I felt toasty warm the entire 4.5 hours. It feels like a big victory, getting my cold weather gear right. It's liberating to affirm that I can move freely through weather and seasons that most people find oppressive and debilitating. When I pull off a long ride in near-record cold without incident, I feel like I can do anything.

My friend Brian took a photo of me riding along Glacier Highway while he was out trolling for cold-weather photos for the Empire. I can't be certain, but I'm pretty sure I'm grinning in this photo.

It's crazy to think that temperatures will be nearly 100 degrees warmer in Honolulu next week. Melting will feel strange.

Back to zero

Date: Jan. 6
Mileage: 28.9
January mileage: 137.8
Temperature upon departure: 10

Tuesday, climbing on the bike, 29 miles, 3.5 hours. Temperatures continued falling for most of the day today, settling back in the subzero range, where they'll probably stay tomorrow. I hope to go out for a longer ride Wednesday, mostly to see if I can survive, but today was all about working up a good sweat. I made the 1,200-foot climb through two inches of fresh snow on the unplowed road to Eaglecrest (the ski resort is closed Tuesdays.)

I did a little riding on the slopes, but there's way too much new snow - too soft and punchy. The skiers have the right idea. If I ever feel like hauling my board up there one of these days, maybe I'll join them. I've made plans several times to go snowboarding at Eaglecrest with friends, but I keep backing out. I'm not quite sure why I've lost nearly all interest in snowboarding. I do have this new aversion to the idea being carted up a mountain; subsequently, I lack the skill set, avalanche knowledge and equipment needed for backcountry runs. Plus, I've got that big race coming, and I'm genuinely worried about hurting myself doing something stupid.

But the biking today was mostly beautiful and cold. What's new? I love it. I don't get sick of it. I don't know why.

The only bad part about a healthy winter climb is the five-mile effortless descent in minus-20-degree windchill. I stopped halfway down the hill to put on mittens over my gloves, and took exactly two pictures before my camera quit working. My left thumb froze as well, just a bit. I used to downhill snowboard on a regular basis back when I lived in Utah, usually at night, and I have no idea how I stayed warm. A ski lift carts you up a hill and you slide down. Unless you're moderately skilled (I'm not), there's few chances to work up very much heat. I think this is the reason why I have been so much more interested in snowshoeing than snowboarding lately (well, besides the fact that I'm getting old) ... but with snowshoeing, you work up a sweat going both up and down.

Downhill snowbiking, however, is miserably cold.

But on second thought ... it's worth it.

Tough days

Date: Jan. 3 and 5
Mileage: 31.5 and 30.1
January mileage: 108.9
Temperature upon departure: 22 and 18

Geoff and I were talking today about how Juneau's weather for the past six weeks has added that extra layer of tough to our already daunting winter training habits. Almost every day has been colder than average, or snowier than average, or some combination of both. Geoff is already making regular declarations of "I hate winter." I would never make this statement, ever, but even I am beginning to feel tinges of fatigue as I step out into a new day of whiteout conditions and contemplate another ride churning 8 mph through sandy powder as snowflakes fly up my nose.

Juneau has received about 18" of snow in the past three days, which isn't a huge amount for 72 hours. But it's fallen consistently, in the form of tiny, pointy flakes, for most of that time. It's made the riding mostly horrible, because the trails are all knee deep in powder and the roads are even more treacherous. Constant snow means snow-removal crews only plow the driving lanes, and everything they scrape away ends up in the shoulder as many inches of loose, uneven, partially packed powder. I can ride through it, slowly, if I deflate my tires to 5-7 psi, but I never quite know when I'm going to hit a loose spot or a patch of ice and fishtail my way right under a truck. I've become more and more anxious about riding in traffic in the snow, until even the idea of using my bike to commute to a trail where I can hike is daunting. Geoff has skinny tires on his commuter bike and just rides in the driving lane, but I can't do that. I just can't. At least in the shoulder, I'm somewhat in control of my situation. In the driving lane, I'm at the mercy of traffic, which also happens to be navigating treacherous snowy conditions. Scary.

Right now I'm in the midst of amping up my training ahead of an upcoming vacation. I was hoping to log about 40 hours in the 10-day span between Saturday and next Monday. After that, I'm going to spend a week in Hawaii, where I snagged a sweet companion fare ticket to tag along with Geoff as he races the HURT 100 in Honolulu. My plan is to hike to volcanoes, jog on the beach and rent a road bike, a real road bike - I may even bring my own clipless pedals and shoes - and ride it all over whatever island we're camped on (hopefully we'll make it to another island besides Oahu.) I could ride that thing hundreds of miles and it would be a rest week. I'm looking forward to it.

But first, I have to earn it. Here's how it's going so far:

Saturday, resistance training on the bike, 27 miles, 3.5 hours. I rode out to the Valley and back on roads, with about 1.5 miles of pushing on unplowed bike paths. The weather was pleasantly mild compared to recent subzero conditions, with temperatures in the low 20s and intermittently heavy snowfall followed by long breaks in precipitation (so nice to take the gold-tinted goggles off once in a while.)


Sunday, heavy resistance training on foot, about 8 miles, 4 hours. I woke up to heavier snowfall and didn't feel like riding my bike anywhere, so I embarked on the one hike I can do from my front door. The lower Mount Jumbo trails are hard to stretch out to four hours, but I made it work by leaving the barely recognizable snowmobile tracks several times to blaze a few spur trails through thigh-deep powder. That has to be the most strenuous full-body workout I've ever tried. Just getting one foot in front of the other in snow that deep takes a lot of back and shoulder work. I was just below the Jumbo Bowl when I saw the first snowmobiles of the day. They blazed over the tracks I had broken and then told me I should turn back because there was a lot of avalanche danger that day. I wanted to ask them what they were doing on the trail if it was so dangerous, but instead I said, "Yeah, I know. I'm not going further than the hut." It would take the avalanche of the century to reach that spot, but I did venture a little beyond it, just to get a glimpse of the stark north face of Mount Jumbo.

Monday, a rather pathetic attempt at speed work, finally submitted to resistance training, 30 miles, 3:15 hours. I thought the plows wouldn't come through if there was only an inch or two of fresh powder, but I was wrong. They still further mucked up the road shoulders, so I still had to work hard for not much payout. I kept a more strenuous pace than typical workouts, but I don't think I'm allowed to call 10 mph "speed." I saw a couple of ice climbers, a rare sight in Juneau, where typical freeze/thaw cycles never allow strong enough ice buildup over the waterfalls. But this has been a cold month. I'm pretty sure the temperature hasn't gone above freezing since Dec. 10. We're expecting more snow tomorrow, followed by another kick into the subzero range. Tough days, tough days. But, I have to admit ...

Tough days can be beautiful.