on the trails

On Wednesday, just a day after hitting the ground in Las Vegas, Jon and I were riding singletrack in the 90-degree sun at Bootleg Canyon, just outside Boulder City, Nev. It always takes time for me to acclimate to the heat on a vacation. Even more this year. As I slowly made some hills, or chickened out on some minor rock sections, I reminded myself that the first ride in the desert is always the toughest.

There are a few things to remember - like the fact that the rocks and roots won't be slippery, and that riding in sand is much like biking in snow. And that just because you don't perceive that you're sweating doesn't mean you shouldn't continue to hydrate.

I was done riding after a few hours, but Jon opted for one more loop while I strolled around checking out the terrain. Within an hour he returned, telling me I had to get back on my bike to do a section he'd just pedaled. "There's another parking lot," he told me. "I'll pick you up at the bottom."

So, back on with the shorts, and with map and pump in my water pack, I took off. After a bit of climbing, the trail started to descend. The singletrack curved and rolled through the dry terrain. The afternoon heat had picked up, but I was cooled by my descent. Eventually, I saw the car and Jon greeted me with music and an open beer. Next stop: Lake Mead for a swim. What a way to finish the first ride!

the secret to a long life

We stopped at the farmers' market on Saturday before work. Leaves were dropping to the ground.

On Sunday afternoon a snowstorm reached west from the mountains into the city. After the storm, our east-side yard was covered in more than a dusting of snow while water dripped from the roof and the trees, still shedding their leaves.

the piggies are migrating

Jon and I fly out Monday night, in time to miss this early winter and catch the early autumn mountain biking in Utah, Arizona and who knows where else. I thought about a song by Michelle Shocked that has followed me for years. It fits many occasions.

While we're away, I'll do a few postings, but I can't promise much. I have a stack of books to read and miles of trail to explore. I may not set aside much time to write. Plus, there's no wifi where we're camping...

Hopefully Kitty will be happy with the housesitters - the other night she sprawled over both their laps. I think that's a good sign.

words aren't adequate

September 26, 2008

The trip to Eklutna Lake and the Serenity cabin leave me struggling for words. After a cold rainy summer, we didn't know what to expect this past weekend. Geared up for rain and cold. Firewood hauled to the cabin to ensure we wouldn't shiver together on the benches. Then we had Friday. Saturday and Sunday. All brilliant crisp fall days.

Jo-Ann on her three-wheeled recumbent

Bear scat filled with highbush cranberries.

hiking up-valley, toward the glacier

leaves vivid yellow
water on the lake reflecting mountains
sky and trees

five women pedaling
stopping for photos
or to take in the view
exclaim again how fortunate
how beautiful

meeting other riders
our friends
exchanging grateful words
at the gift of sunshine
and friendship
and a helping hand
a joyful smile

burdens are lifted
rising like steam from our breath
pulling gear
not so heavy
as I make my way to a welcome escape

not many days like these
the ones we wait for
grasp for like a rope to safety

the beautiful days are oh so much sweeter
for having endured all the grey
we appreciate and celebrate them
I broke out in song

Near the end of the trip; stacked rocks caught my eye

I don't know who balanced the rocks, but enjoyed this surprise by the shore.

more pics on alaskadirtdivas.blogspot.com

destination: serenity

Eklutna Lake in August

I'm heading out of town this weekend for a couple nights at the Serenity Falls cabin at Eklutna Lake. Ten of us will be riding out - some today, some on Saturday - to stay at a rustic spot tucked in a glacier-carved valley. No electricity, no running water, no wifi. Just the heat of a wood stove and good friends. I think someone mentioned wine, too.

We'll pack our gear on our bikes and trailers for the 12-mile ride along the Lakeside Trail. It's mostly gravel, and is one of the prettiest places to do a fall ride. The colors in Anchorage are at their most brilliant, so I hope it's the same at the lake. The forecast calls for nice weather and Anchorage woke this morning to fog that quickly burned off to give us clear skies. We feel pretty lucky today!

While in the park, we hope to hike closer to Eklutna Glacier & do some exploring. Hiking in the sun sure sounds lovely.

equinox

In Alaska, we're keenly aware of the changing seasons as they are reflected in the weather and the calendar. We start thinking about fall as the fireweed blossoms reach the top of their stalks, followed by the termination dust, usually around the time of the State Fair. We measure it in rain and in temperatures, in ripening berries and produce. In snow creeping down the mountains.

The summer of 2008 is now done. The end of the season is finally marked on the calendar. Fall equinox, the day when we have equal daylight and darkness, took place today. Though it is a little off here at our latitude. The sun set before 8pm, which for the rest of the country must seem very late, but for me it's another marker as we race around the sun on this little planet. A headlight for the commute home. The chill in the air as the clear skies let loose the sparse warmth of the day.

Jon and I have an end-of-summer tradition. We do a bike ride on my birthday. Most years I take the day off with him, but the schedule didn't work out that way this year. Since Brad had such a great time mountain biking with us last weekend, we thought it'd be fun to do a ride after work, kind of a shop ride for my birthday.

On Sunday, despite watching storms stalled against the mountains on the east side, we decided to head that direction to check out the new singletrack trails in Bicentennial Park. After climbing up the trail at Hilltop (the downhill ski area), we briefly watched a storm make its way across the area as we hung out in the sunshine. Then, up to the as yet unnamed STA trails for some sweet singletrack riding.

Scattered showers

These are trails that will put a grin on your face! They are twisty and undulating with views over the city and into meadows. For a short time, I could hear the roaring water from the Campbell Creek gorge before the trail looped back toward the Gasline. The leaves that have been falling from the trees under the pounding of rain carpeted some stretches with yellow.

Jon, Brad & Peter ready to keep descending.

The new trails have been a few years in the making, from the idea to the equipment hitting the ground this summer. Sharing them on a ride with friends just about sums up the mountain biking experience for me. Because no matter what other activities I do, even among the other kinds of biking, I'm a mountain biker at heart. Road biking has never made me grin like this.

So, thanks to everyone at Singletrack Advocates, the trail crews, advisers, Parks & Rec planners, contributors, and especially Janice for making it all happen. As they say at IMBA: "Where would we be without trails?"

transitions

When the clouds broke Wednesday
snow was again dusting the peaks above Anchorage
the sun appeared and brightened the leaves made yellow
by the cold and cleansed by the rain.

Ducks near the bog were feeding
fattening for a long flight south.

The damp forest with its
colors and smells
each scent unique to itself
and to this season
I slow down and just breathe.

if i am silent

I have no right to complain
when the polar bears are gone
when the refuge is spoiled
when women can't choose
when fiction replaces science
when unjust wars continue
when torture is allowed
when families can't pay for illness
when bridges aren't repaired
when sea levels rise

I want my country back
I want to be proud
I want to say we did the right thing
I want to be a better person
living in a just nation
I want to tell you
please vote for Barack



peace