Gear check

Date: Feb. 9
Mileage: 26.4
February mileage: 199.0
Temperature upon departure: 24

I did a fairly short ride today, and then spent the better part of the afternoon putting together most of my gear for the Susitna 100. The above picture is what I'm going to wear ... or carry with me, in case I need to wear it. I'll probably adjust it quite a bit based on the weather forecast, but you never know when you're going to get wet, so I'm going the carry the extra gloves, socks and a base layer no matter what. Everything else is clockwise, from the upper left: water resistant shell pants, Northface winter hiking boots, N.E.O.S. overboots, neoprene gloves (my spares), middle fleece layer, base layer (a basic cycling jersey. I can use the little back pocket to hold chemical warmers if I want to), top fleece layer, bike pogies, fleece balaclava (spare, and it probably won't go unless it supposed to be below 0), lightweight neoprene socks (spare), heavyweight neoprene socks, polypro tights, fleece long johns, and my winter shell. In the middle are the helmet, goggles, liner socks, liner gloves, mittens and wool socks. Again, I might not need all of this. But unless the weather forecast calls for nothing below 10 and nothing above 33 (the kind of temps in which you're likely to get wet from rain or melting snow), I'll likely wear or carry all of it. Phew! I can be really high maintenance.

I also gathered most of the required gear. With any luck, I'll never have to use it. I know that sleeping bag looks like it weighs a ton. It does. I believe its just over six pounds, and it doesn't stuff very small either. But it's really toasty, and I didn't have to give up food for a week to pay for it. So I'll schlep it over the tundra. Next to it is your basic thermarest sleeping pad (I traded my pad with Geoff, Dave, because I have space issues and he has weight issues. So he gets the super light nice one that you sent me.) The rest is headlight, bike tool, fuel (I'm going to buy new fuel in Anchorage), lighter, pot, bike pump, stove (that's its box. It's currently en route to Palmer via USPS. I didn't trust that the airport baggage security people weren't going to take it away from me), chemical handwarmer packs, Camelbak (I'm sticking with the big one because it has great insulation, but I'm not carrying much more than water inside of it), and a bivy sack, generously on loan from Eero, an artist in Fairbanks.

That's my stuff. Good grief, it does take a lot to do a bike ride in the winter.

I don't know how much it all weighs. Comfortably over 15 pounds, I'm sure. I've never put much effort into lightening the load because I'm not really a front-of-the-pack person. I'm in this thing to feel confident and have fun, and best of all, survive. Last year I carried about the same amount of gear. I struggled to stay afloat on my bike much of the time and never even cracked into my bags, despite getting caught in heavy rain and getting soaked through and through (I kept all of my dry gear in reserve in case my core temperature dropped, and that never happened.) But would I carry it again, even if it wasn't a race requirement? In a heartbeat. If there's one thing the Alaska wilderness is, it's unpredictable. Self-sufficiency is worth 10 times its weight in comfort and confidence.

And the best part is ... I have it all ready, a week early! Tomorrow I'm going to load it all up on Snaux bike to test how it handles. Sorry for the boring, long list post today. But typing out all of this is actually helpful to me. You know what's another completely self-absorbed thing I can do, because this is my blog? Post silly pictures of my pets. This is Geoff's cat, Midnight, eating thread. She was doing this when I arrived home from biking today, so I have no idea how much she actually injested before I literally cut her off with a pair of scissors.

Wow. One more week. I'm terrified.

Crazy fun singletrack

Date: Feb.8

Mileage: 30.4

February mileage: 172.6

Temperature upon departure: 25

I rode out to Dredge Lake today for some great trail riding. Everything was dialed in to the ideal setting. The trail was hard-packed and fast. Off-trail riding was crunchy and strenuous ... but rideable. The was a small section of snowmobile-groomed path, but most of the trail system was packed down in a single, narrow ski track that darted up steep hills and plummeted down winding slaloms through the rain forest. And for some strange reason, I was at the top of my game - hitting those hairpin turns with uncharacteristic precision, flying across the flat stretches and not bothering to gear down as I motored up another short hill. Big-ring snowbiking. Oh, if only winter could always be this friendly.

I actually ended up riding about 15 miles today entirely on snow. I think my average on the trails was about 9 or 10 mph. For me, on snow, that's like ... ai-yeeee fast. It never even felt like work. Geoff was at a nearby campground pounding out a short run to test his foot injury, which has given him less trouble in the past couple of days. I wanted to go find him and show him all the fun he was missing, and probably would have if the Mendenhall Lake was just a little more frozen. I rode a short distance on top of the shore ice ... about three inches of water below ... and heard quite a bit of cracking. So that was not to be.

I also learned the real stress of a rigid bike. For spending less than two hours riding on trails, my forearms are killing me. It didn't help that hundreds of dogs pounded endless pockmarks into the snow before it cemented over. I would spend 100 miles riding on snow like that, happily, but I'd probably jolt my fingertips into semi-permanent numbness.

I do my fair share of summer cycling ... both dirt and road. I've ridden my road bike to the corner store and I've ridden 109 miles of wilderness singletrack in one epic day. I was indoctrinated into mountain biking on the legendary trails of southern Utah. But, for me, there's just nothing quite as joyful as a rare, perfectly-dialed-in snow ride. Does this make me a bad person?

Juneau's pet wolf

"The adventures of Romeo the wolf and one lucky pug"

I wish I could have been there, but these photos aren't mine. They were sent to the Juneau Empire today by a local photographer who wishes to remain anonymous because of the sensitive nature of the photos, and because (I've heard) that dog belongs to a family member who would be fairly distraught if she found out what happened. But I'm guessing she's going to find out. These photos are gold, and I'm sure they'll be distributed far and wide over the Internet soon enough.

I've seen this wolf before - a couple of times, actually - running across the frozen Mendenhall Lake. The locals call him "Romeo." He's a fairly habituated "city" wolf, and has been known to approach groups of dogs and even play with them. I've never heard of him carrying off a dog before, but a co-worker speculates that he mistook that squatty little white dog for a rabbit. Once he got his mouth around it and tasted ... ewww, dog ... he spit the pug back out on the snow. Word is the pug got right back up and was apparently fine, if not a little shaken.

Juneau is probably one of the few cities in the country where wolves live in such close proximity to a (semi) urban area. It creates a whole new dynamic of human habituation because wolves are such social animals. You can't really blame them if they want to play with your dogs. But it's good to see they're still respectful enough of their little cousins to not make them dinner.