Streamlining

Date: Nov. 24 and 25
Mileage: 28.4 and 22.1
November mileage: 713.4

The bike training has been going well lately. Really, too well. I've been implementing planned levels of exertion and trying to push myself, but I usually emerge feeling like I'm lacking something. I need to dig deeper. I need rides in which I go to bed feeling absolutely exhausted and wake up pumped for the new day. I need the pain and triumph of a good, long ride. I need the time for a good, long ride.

Right now I have a little time to kill while I wait to pick up my friends at the airport (another delayed flight. Sigh.)We have a pretty low-key Thanksgiving planned, and I'm excited about that. I am sad that I'm missing out on the Homer family extravaganza for which my mother baked nine pies and my sister committed to wearing a special shirt. The day after Thanksgiving, my sister and cousins celebrate Black Friday by standing in line outside a Fred Meyer or Target at some horrific hour of the pre-morning. Then they rush into the store with a stampede of people, trying not to get trampled as they elbow their way into aisles full of what assume are still half-price socks and some sort of $10 DVD players. I've never quite understood the draw, and never participated in the consumer madness, but the images still drum up nostalgia, and I wish I was there just the same.

But if you are like me, and will be spending your Black Friday in the quiet company of friends and hopefully going for a nice long bike ride, you can still get your Christmas shopping done away from the crowds by purchasing the new version of my book! That's right, I fixed some (hopefully most) of the typos, tweaked the fonts, and scoured paypal for a way to sell books directly through my blog. That way, if you would like a signed and personalized copy, you can click on the gold "Buy" button and purchase direct without having to contact me first. (The e-mails stacked up quite a bit, and certainly revealed holes in my organizational skills. If you e-mailed me and I never got back to you, I apologize.) By clicking on this button, you can indicate in a message how you would like your books personalized, and paypal will calculate shipping and total price. You can pay either with your paypal account, or with a credit card. Keep in mind that buying books through this blog means they still have to go through a "middle man" (me) so turnover time will be about 10-14 days. I'm working on generating a specific Web site to better describe the book, including excerpts and reviews, which will hopefully give potential buyers a better idea of what they're getting.

I want to thank everyone who purchased my book so far. Thanks to you, I will definitely be getting that mountaineering coat I've had my eye on. I've also gotten some good and helpful feedback and am continuing to learn a lot.

If you'd like to purchase signed copies of the book, here's the button. I'm going to move it to my sidebar soon. But now, to the airport.

Happy Thanksgiving!

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.

I'm famous!

Date: Nov. 19
Mileage: 16.5
November mileage: 526.5

OK, not really. But check out my guest post today on Fat Cyclist's blog, "So you want to ride a bike on snow."

Bookkeeping

Date: Nov. 17 and 18
Mileage: 32.2 and 35.0
November mileage: 510

I felt strong during my two "tempo" rides today and yesterday. My plan has been to ride three or four of these rides every week: two to three hours of semi-uncomfortable effort. But I am almost certainly on a fitness plateau right now, because these rides have become much too easy. I know the obvious answer is "ride harder," but I almost feel like my lungs and heart have outpaced my legs, and I just don't have the muscle power to push the pace much higher. I know I probably do, I just need to find it. And of course there's the short cuts - more intervals, climbing, squats. But there's just so much fun riding out there right now - frozen trails, hardened muskeg, shattery paper ice (see small photo) and dustings of new snow. I keep telling myself I can start building again in December. :-)

I was able to get in plenty of bursts of hard effort today after I snapped the rear shifter cable on my mountain bike. I feel bad for my Karate Monkey; only seven months old, and she's already been through the war. But after riding most of the morning with three speeds (and really only using the middle ring), I have to say, I still don't understand the single-speed thing. It's not a matter of being able to push a high gear up steep hills - that I can do if I have to. But I prefer to have my rotations per minute stay the same no matter how fast I'm going. Single-speeders must have their legs spinning all sorts of different crazy speeds. And once your RPMs drop down to two or three, don't you start questioning the efficiency of your one gear?

Also, I wanted to thank people who have e-mailed me about buying a book. When I made the offer, I didn't really formulate a plan about how I would organize requests and orders and the like. So what I have is an inbox full of e-mails, some of which I have answered, some which I'm not sure, etc. I plan to sit down and organize the whole mess on Thursday or Friday, so if I haven't gotten back to you yet, I apologize. I put in a big order Monday (and I want to thank those who already sent in Paypal payments; it made the prospect of ordering a big box of the exact same book much less painful.) I was told they would take six to eight days to print, so the turnover may be a little longer than I expected. I ordered some extras and can always order more, so if you are still interested in a signed copy or are hesitant to use the direct site, please e-mail at jillhomer66@hotmail.com.

Once I get a chance to really scrutinize and think about it, I may go the route of purchasing a distribution package, getting the book on Amazon and possibly into actual stores (maybe bike shops?). Of course, this would require a ton of marketing on my part, and convincing third parties that it's a worthy product. One of the main benefits of having an outside publisher (besides brutal, thorough editing) is marketing. I'm still not sure whether I want to step outside the safe boundaries of this blog. This was, after all, a personal project and not a commercially-minded venture. More of what I think I might get out of "Ghost Trails" is a learning experience that I can use as a springboard for future projects.

That said, I'm curious if any books have trickled in yet. I'm interested in feedback, any feedback. If you've had a chance to look it over, shoot me an e-mail or leave a comment and let me know what you think. I realize people aren't just going to receive the book and read the whole thing in a day (although it is a pretty quick read), but I just wanted to throw it out there that I'm interested in hearing your thoughts, whatever they may be.

And, just as a friendly reminder, it's still available here. :-)

Finally, I just signed up for Facebook! I still don't know why. Peer pressure, I presume. But that's the whole reason I started a blog, so maybe it will work out for me. My profile.

First tracks

Date: Nov. 16
Mileage: 12.4
November mileage: 442.8

When sunlight emerges from the cold and rain, the only question is where to follow it. The obvious answer is along frozen streets, into the mountain shadows and higher until there is nowhere to go higher. Climbing toward the sun.

The day started out with a little bumpy ice biking on the frozen muskeg. Then I hid my bike in the woods (too well, as it turned out, when it took me a few passes to find it later in the day). I strapped on my snowshoes and cut a path in the crusty snow all the way to the Douglas Island ridge.

The first steps over the crest of the ridgeline are always breathtaking. Generally, I have been traipsing through shadows for most of the morning. The low sun, which never extends beyond the other side of the mountain, makes its first appearance through snow-laden branches. Just beyond the trees are the peaks of Admiralty Island, wrapped in clouds, and the shimmering surf of Stephens Passage.

All around, sunlight glistens in a pillow of untracked snow. Trees slump beneath the weight of hard ice and everything is cast in stark contrast against the sky. I always have to squint but I hesitate to put on my sunglasses, for fear of shutting out even a fraction of the color and light. The landscape is so beautiful it hurts.

It's a happy hurt, a kind of ache, a sharp longing for distant joys of the past and unfiltered hope for the future. I stop to remove my hat, caked in frozen sweat, and smile in the cold wind.

Powder snow muffles the crunch of my snowshoes as I make my way along the ridge. A bald eagle screeches just a few feet above my head, but the only tracks on land are my own. Clear skies reveal ridgelines many miles away, and at elevation I can imagine these alien places are within my reach. Elevation reminds me that I don't really live in isolation; that even Juneau is connected to the world. In my mind I outline the islands and coast on a map that carries me down the Inside Passage.

The city looks warm and cozy. I have to be at work in a few hours, and the thought of leaving the mountains and the marshmallow mounds of trees is sobering. Down there are a hundred hanging indecisions, a wall of uncertainty and a company on the verge of bankruptcy. Sometimes I wonder how I can justify spending so much of my time pursuing frivolous activity while the world struggles. But it is here that I'm most powerful in the fight against despair. It is here that I remember the things that matter, forget the things that don't. It is here, on the Douglas Island ridge, where I could walk the same lines a hundred times and never feel anything short of awe.

What good would life be without awe?