Race Report
August 26, 2011
Oh hey, I meant to write up a race report. A race report?!? I don’t race, do I?
I guess sometimes I do, because I decided to spend the super sunny and warm Tuesday night last week at the races for the Arctic Bicycle Club. I pretty much talked myself into this race the hour before it started, so “off the couch” is a kind of understatement. That didn’t stop me from blusteringly signing up for the Expert course, naturally. The course was the same as the Beginner and Sport, only it was three laps of six miles each instead of two or one, respectively. This seemed like a fine idea to me for whatever reason. I’m not afraid of distance, not at all, so don’t get me wrong here. Maybe I had this fantasy of no one else showing up? Who knows.
I wasn’t too surprised to see past Geargal Eeva Latosuo there, and as we greeted each other I enjoyed a microsecond of hope that perhaps Eeva had not been riding bikes at all for the last three years and therefore had left me a single chance of so much as keeping her in sight for the entire race. “Here to kick my ass, uh? Have you done the other Tuesday races?” she said, giving credibility to my Expert race number which is really quite the joke if you stop to think about it. Well, you don’t have to stop at all, really, Eeva has won many distance races and I have only done two in my life and won zero (podiumed at both, though, due to low numbers of women racers, ha). The suggestion of me kicking her ass at any endurance sport is pretty much the funniest thing ever. “No,” I scoffed, “I just decided to do this today, and I haven’t raced since March,” still hoping that by downplaying my ability, she’d slack and I’d indeed kick her ass. “Yeah, I haven’t raced in a month,” she sympathized, and as we parted to continue our warmups, I realized that, in fact, I hadn’t raced since March THE YEAR BEFORE. Well, September the year before, really, but it might as well have been March. I was toast. Even more toast than I would have been otherwise.
As the Experts lined up, I wondered how in the hell this race thing worked anyway. I pretty much get left in the dust at the start line every race, let the leaders open up a sizeable gap, then hold it for the remainder. How do you fix that without blowing up after this huge effort at the beginning? Get faster, you say? Actually….train? So that I can hold the pace with everyone else? Unheard of. I was pretty much only on the start line because Rebecca Rusch once told me “the hardest part of racing is getting to the start,” and that has stuck with me and convinced me to give it a try. Yes, she told me this a year ago, and yes, I sometimes have to think things over, so what? So I made it to the start line, and off we went, and off the leaders went, and there I was…alone…again.
But not for long! No, not at all!
By this I mean that the next wave of racers, the two-lap Sport division, caught up with me soon enough. The first line of those racers all but forced me off the singletrack, and I foolishly pulled over to let the jackrabbits by, only to have one of them catch his Eggbeater in my spokes and drag my bike for a foot or two. Snar! That made me angry, how rude! But my gut-fire came too late and the jackrabbits had disappeared over the singletrack horizon. I resigned myself to three steady laps rather than killing myself in a futile effort to catch up to anyone. I crested a hill and found that one of the jackrabbits had a mechanical, so I slowed to pass him a multitool (foolishly! I get it! I’m a race idiot! It’s a RAAAAAACE and I shouldn’t be all nice and shit); a gesture that made him gasp in shock and allowed a Youth racer and his dad to catch up with me. “How does it feel to be passed by an 11 year old?” The douchebag dad smarmed as he pulled up next to me while I cranked back up to speed. “Um, I stopped to give someone a tool,” I said, when what I really wanted to say was “I’ve got thirteen more miles of racing to go, and you and your eleven year old have three, so who’s beating who?” but I didn’t, because evidently racing turns me nice. That’s messed up, since I’m so rarely nice in real life. Well, I’m nice, but I’m kind of mean with a nice streak; let’s just put it that way.
Racer Dad pulled right in front of me and immediately started blowing attempted snot rockets which really were just snot clouds, which is DISGUSTING, and I just let them pull away because that shit is NASTY. Who wants to ride through a cloud of someone’s snot just for a local evening race? I hope Racer Dad is reading and learning, here. Stop that bad behavior, Racer Dad.
For the rest of the race I was mostly alone, cruising nervously through the overgrown singletrack, hoping to hell the other racers had scared all the bears away. I got distracted while riding the bluff trail, which offers a truly amazing view of Cook Inlet for several hundred yards at least. Race? Oh yeah, I’m racing…keep pedaling. I ran into a few moose and finished my second lap in the company of a really cool and nice Sport racer, while taking comfort in the fact that while I couldn’t catch up to the Experts or to even the jackrabbit Sport contingent on the flats or climbs, I could at least pass them on the downhills, which I’ve spent lots of time working on over the last year or so. I could also pass them right after, say, they pass me and then throw their chains and just stand there in the middle of the trail trying to fix their bikes, blocking my passage, while I heckle. This is all true, except there was only one person who did that. I really did heckle him, with a good-natured “booo!” It was only good natured because he’d at least tried to call for trail, but I don’t know what I think of that, I mean, is anyone’s race more important than anyone else’s race? If you’re behind for whatever reason (lapping included), surely you just have to wait for a wide spot to pass, yes? Whose goals are so incredibly imperative that we all should leap out of the way lest we delay them for a moment or two or several dozen? WHY AM I BEING SO GODDAMNED NICE??? And will I ever stop doing it?
I’ll find out in tomorrow’s race, for which I’ll show up on the start line if a) it’s not raining and b) it hasn’t rained all night; c) I don’t forget or d) I decide not to. I think that covers it.
This Week’s Adventures
August 11, 2011
It’s August in Alaska which this year mean’s it’s already fall, or so the weather says. It’s been a challenging week in regards to getting out into the outdoors because, despite the early date, it appeared that summer was over. Still, Alaskans know that in order to make the most of this great state, sometimes we just have to ignore the weather and rally.
First, we headed up to the mountains on a blustery day, in an attempt to enjoy a ridge walk. It was windy enough to inspire us to keep moving, but when we crested the ridge, the wind was so strong that walking there was just plain dangerous. We dropped down the leeward side about twelve feet so that we could walk underneath the wind as it was deflected off the ridge. This was OK, but the sidehilling was hard on our ankles and we were unable to enjoy the 360-degree views the ridge afforded. We tried to angle around one of the corners, striving for a bit of windblock, but instead we walked straight into a maelstrom that almost blew Geardog off the ridge. I grabbed him and we all beat a hasty retreat back down the slope. We opted to go straight down the slope, over the slippery heather, and bushwhack down to a road by which we could walk out. Despite scanning the landscape for animals, we completely missed a giant bull moose who stood staring down at as once we reached the road.
It wasn’t what we’d aimed for, but it was still a good day out:
The next day I tried to head up for a mountain bike ride, but once I left my house I saw this:
Those clouds promised rain and gloom, right where I wanted to ride, so I did an about face and rode across town to Kincaid Park, where the weather is usually better. It was better, and the ride was good, but I had underestimated the distance to the park and instead of the twelve miles round trip, it was twelve miles EACH WAY, which, combined with the ten or so miles I rode for a hill workout at the park, made for a long day and a grueling ride.
Today dawned gloomy and rainy, but a hopeful check of Intellicast revealed that the clouds were to clear completely by the evening. We picked up a demo bike for my other half, who is shopping around for a new ride (wait ’til I start writing about bike shopping…ugh) and did a quick shakedown cruise on easy trails with Geardog. We then dropped him off at the house and headed back out for a singletrack ride. The sun was shining and it was warm and dry …until the sprinkles started as soon as we got to the parking lot. We thought we’d get rained on, but we didn’t care so we headed up – into a total deluge. It was one of the heaviest rains I’d ever been out in in Alaska, but I could see the other side of the rain cloud so I knew it would be a quick storm. Still, when it turned to hail I had my doubts, and we crouched under a tree until it passed. And pass it did, revealing, finally, a nearly cloudless, sunny, perfect evening.
Though summer’s almost over, we were caught unaware of the lateness of the hour, because it still stays bright sunlight until ten PM even though it now does actually get dark eventually. Winter’s coming, but it’s not here yet. Things are changing fast so every day will bring something visibly new and different. It’s a nice reprieve from the nine months of “same” the winter will bring – but even “same” in Alaska is pretty damn spectacular.
Making Anchorage Safer
June 24, 2011
As some of you know, I’m not a “hometown” kind of person, at least on paper. I was a military brat so when people ask where I’m from originally, I have to say “everywhere.” We were rarely in one place more than a year until my dad retired from the service, but the cool thing was that he was in the Coast Guard so none of the places we lived were all that bad – at least they were all on the coast! Except for when we lived in the plains of Canada…I still don’t quite understand that one.
Generally, though, when people ask where I’m from, I say “Alaska” and if I had to pick a hometown it would be Anchorage. When people ask where I grew up, I tell them “Kodiak” but Anchorage is what I consider to be my hometown. I keep coming back here, have purchased a home here, and I admit to genuinely caring about the fate of my city.
So when I observed a noticeable change in the city’s collective attitude a few years ago, I was really dismayed. What was happening to my sweet little city? People were noticeably more aggressive and rude, certain political events had polarized the population, violence was becoming commonplace, and my city seemed a shell of its former self. Alaskans are fundamentally independent; we have to be to survive in the harsh environment – but when someone needs help we usually rally and help out in whatever way we can. Supporting each other is at the core of what it means to be Alaskan, so it was really shocking when the tone of the comments on the local paper’s web site turned extremely ugly. Politics, accidents, and even seemingly benign events unleashed a barrage of nastiness, usually directed at the hapless victims of the tragedy or whoever happened to disagree with the commenter. These comments reflected the attitudes of Anchorage residents and believe me, it was extremely unbecoming. My city was ground zero for a war of ideologies fought by soldiers who picked a side based on what would make them the most disagreeable.
So I left for a while and went on walkabout, not so much to find a different place or a better place, but to take a break from being so invested in Anchorage and to resolve some of my feelings about it. I knew I’d never get Alaska out of my system and I’d always have to go back, but I needed some time away. As a fellow Anchorage resident said, “I’ve never loved and hated a city so much in my life.” It was time to get some space from my hometown.
And time away is what I got – but that’s a different story. I’m back in Anchorage for the time being, and have resolved to help change the city for the better. So when another barrage of negativity erupted over a traffic accident that killed a cyclist, I lamented over Twitter that I’d like to see a plan to make the city’s transportation system safer for cyclists AND drivers. Anchorage’s mayor, Dan Sullivan, saw my tweet and invited me to participate in efforts to improve bike safety in Anchorage. I met with him and his staff yesterday and am excited to report that his administration really is supportive of improved safety for cyclists. A free map of cycling routes has already been developed and printed (and you can get one at any bike shop in Anchorage) and the city is planning to produce new PSAs designed to make both riders and drivers aware of their responsibilities on the road. The city even reworded its confusing traffic code to make the rules more clear for everyone (but the code still has to pass the Assembly so it’s not quite final yet).
I learned that the police chief is an avid cyclist and has himself been hit by a car while on his bike. He’s worked with his officers to ensure that they hold cyclists accountable for breaking the law, while opposing silly moves by legislators (such as the suggestion that in car vs. cyclist collisions, the cyclist should ALWAYS be considered at fault. For real. An Anchorage lawmaker actually decided that would be a good idea. Sigh. Remember that thing about “loving and hating” this city? Yeah). I rallied hard to get him to let me take the tactical bike riding course offered to bike cops, and while the jury is still out on that idea, I was happy to hear that the chief supports having bike cops out on the multi-use trails around Anchorage (which can be very dangerous due to the urban wildlife, and I’m not talking about moose and bears).
I’m still not sure how I will be involved or what I’ll be able to offer, but so far I’m excited about the discussion and have promised to use my blog to support the effort and try to get other Anchorage cyclists aware of and involved in the planning. So, Anchorage riders – want to help? Get in touch with me either in the comments or via the Contact form.
