Alaskan Pack Fodder

They are all right.   I'm doing it all wrong.   I'm not enjoying myself.   I identify myself as a cyclist. More specifically, as a roadie. Exclusively as a roadie. I've owned mountain bikes, but the discipline never really rang my bell. I sold them and bought road bikes. I've owned 'cross bikes, but rarely used them outside of 'cross races and nasty conditions. I also hurt myself a lot while riding them. I sold them and bought road bikes. I've rented fat bikes, but I already have an expensive winter sport my wife does not 100% understand or support, and again it wasn't my cup of tea. I tried to sell them, but the rental outlet and the police objected, even though I was going to use the proceeds to buy more road bikes.   It's not like I haven't made the effort.   When my world revolved around skiing, I tried as many variants of the sport as possible. I tried cross-county, and they are dry-rotting in a corner of my garage. I tried heli-sk...

I finally got tired of stepping over the moldering pile of kit at the corner of the bed. Actually, I got tired of stepping on a soggy chamois in the middle of the night on the way to see what the youngest is fussing about before he launches into a 2:00AM fit of rage.   I narrowly avoided throwing my back out carrying the pile downstairs to the washing machine and threw it in on the delicate cycle. I will ruin my wife's work clothes worth thousands of dollars (rough estimate) washing them on the "sandblast/extreme heat" setting, but I'm careful with the cycling kit. I have my priorities straight.   When done, they hang up in the shower that hasn't been used as a shower in the last ten years. It's a drying rack with a drain. Again, priorities.   This time of year I start switching from my riding kit to my trainer kit. My riding kit is the nice team stuff with sponsor logos that implies a team took pity on me when they chose to clothe me. The trainer stuff ...

Yesterday I stayed home with the sick toddler, so I could be sure to fully expose myself to whatever bug he was carrying. He was running a fever and had a nasty cough, so Daddy stayed home and ate Goldfish with him. We watched lots of Pooh. We didn't do much of anything else, because every time I would get up to do a small chore or even go to the bathroom, he would start to whine. Someday I'm going to look back on these days with fondness. Not today, not tomorrow, but someday. I didn't get on the bike, and instead took the wife out to a fancy dinner at a place we had been meaning to try out. Dining out with a sick toddler is always an adventure, but he did pretty well with it. I ate too much, and after a day of eating Goldfish and cashews, I was feeling pretty awful. Today I went to work and the toddler went to daycare. I was swamped with all of the stuff I should have done yesterday and the stuff I didn't see coming today, so I was looking forward to getting in a r...

Lance Armstrong had the F-One group, which was a collaboration of all of his sponsors to find a plausible explanation for his performances that didn't mention systematic doping. The I have the F-53 Project, which is named for my current body fat percentage and is primarily concerned with maximizing the performance gains from a diet composed exclusively of simple carbs and trans fats. And self loathing. Lots and lots of self-loathing. This Sunday a grainy video emerged from my secret testing grounds, where I was fine-tuning my time trial position to take advantage of the unnatural aerodynamic fairing that droops over the top tube. It's all about minimal gains. Actually, Dark Lord of the Sith Bill Fleming and I were doing intervals around the track at the Dome, an inflatable arena in Anchorage that houses a full-size soccer/football/whatever pitch and a couple smaller practice fields, all ringed by a flat, five-lane running track. Bill brought up the possibility to me whe...

Over the last couple years I've come to realize that I suck at time trials. I have invested a large portion of my children's college fund into carbon this and aero that, but the fact remains that the engine is leaky and a couple pistons are rattling, and there's not enough money left in the textbook fund to cover that swap. Every year I place mid-pack in TT stages, watching any advantage I may have had up to that point ride off into the distance. I'm just not built to excel at the discipline, and I don't spend nearly as much time as I do money on it. I try to buy speed, and my ROI has been depressing. Still, it's that season again. The season when retailers start running bike part sales and I start hoarding. When eBay and Craigslist sellers start off-loading their old junk and I gladly pay to take it off their hands. This year, I started looking at TT frames. I have no idea why. My TT bike, while not the most technologically advanced wind-splitting instrumen...

In my continuing trend of stealing content from Wanky's vastly superior cycling blog, the analysis of his recent completely scientific, pulled-out-of-his-ass cycling poll came in, and they have validated everything I have ever said. More or less. Of note: "Respondents reported relatively little concern about receiving unique prizes (jerseys, pint glasses, etc.) or prize money, nor were they concerned about the posting of results to social media (e.g., Facebook)." I only point this out because it confirms my own opinions about cash awards and other expensive prizes. The rest of the survey is just mindless drivel. Just like Fox News, I report, you decide (that I'm right). I believe that's called confirmation bias, and in this case it's awesome. Seriously, there's lots of good information in there, and I'm probably going to pour through it over the next few days to see what other opinions of mine it confirms. I'd like to see the ABC Road Di...

"The justice of sport, yes. The sacrifice without end."                            -Gene Hackman in Downhill Racer   I wore out my VHS copy of that movie years ago, back when my whole life revolved around being the absolute best low-average Masters alpine ski racer I could be. The scene this line is from is in a hospital room, where an athlete who has dedicated his whole life to being the best at a sport lies with a possible career-ending injury. Also in the room is another racer, played by Robert Redford, who lacks the injured athlete's dedication and discipline but has surpassed him because of natural ability and other traits. Robert Redford's character goes on to win the Olympic gold medal, while the dedicated-but-injured athlete isn't mentioned again.   The justice of sport. What brought this to mind was a recent Wan...