Milking summer for all it's worth

The fireweed has turned, the ferns are beginning to yellow; fall is upon us. The four weeks between summer and the long dark stretch of winter. We ride through the mud and the rain eking out that last bit of singletrack beneath an already low hanging sun.

Camping outside of Nikiski with Nathan, for arguably the best stretch of beach riding between Hope and Homer.

I took about 50 pictures of this crazy house built straddling the sandy bluff and a huge boulder, one earthquake or tidal wave away from oblivion.

Plenty of river crossings to keep things interesting and ensure our feet were soaked. The stream was a deep oxblood rust from all the high iron content. 

What makes this 10 miles of coastline great is the myriad of oddly shaped stones littering the beach; creating an endless playground. The GPS said we gained 500 feet of elevation despite riding below the tide line for much of the day. 500 ft of rock crawling and sweet jumps. 

At this exact moment, I was wondering how strong my carbon steer tube is...

Euro-trip throw back: lunch of bourbon and bocadillos. 

Getting rowdy. 

The beautiful Nikiski: where every street in town this named after a petroleum company.

On the way back to Anchorage we surveyed some other beach riding options but none compared to the precious day's jib fest on the rocks.

Flat can be beautiful but is also boring.

Kenai Lake

Time for some single track up Devil's Pass to keep life more interesting.

Hunters on horseback out for moose, caribou, bear, whatever. 

 It's very important for one's equilibrium and riding performance to make sure that your bike components, helmet, clothing,and beer are all color matched. 

We chased a black bear for a couple miles, scared him off the trail with our constant screaming and horrible singing.

'Twas a glorious weekend.

Riding around Anchorage has been awesome as well, blessed with a few sunny days after record setting rains, meant muddy muddy trails.  I was impressed with the traction that the Vee Rubber Trail Taker 650b x 2.4 tires provided, allowing me to safely and stably peddle up the lung and leg burning Power Line Trail, a steady rise of over 3,000 ft out of the Anchorage city bowl.  

Great way to spend the afternoon, just out my back door.

The month of Fall in Alaska also means beautiful sunsets!


Cursing across town for a beach BBQ first time i've needed headlights in a long while.
Fortunately the dynamo power never runs out.


Making good use of the xtracycle bringing firewood, camp chairs, beer, and food down to the beach off Cook Inlet.



That small speck in the distance is the tallest peak in North America, Denali.

Fatbike Zeitgeist

Winter is almost here; the fatbike craze is in full effect.
Looks like these weird balloon tired bikes are catching on.

4 new carbon frames so your tongue won't stick to your bike when you get lonely on those long rides...

But they don't come cheap:

Fatback Corvus $2000 ($2000 for pre-order then jumps to $2300 for frameset)



Borealis Yampa $2249 (frameset)



9:Zero:7 Whiteout $2299

Salsa Beargrease $2600 (frame/fork/hubs)

38 Frameworks Hogback: $2600 frameset (Frame Made in USA)

A good read on carbon frame origins: Here

rumor mill: fatbikes gaining girth

Fatback/Speedway to be testing prototype 190mm symmetrical rear spaced frames on the ITI race; will be the first symmetrical fatbike frame to clear 100mm rims with the big meat 4.8 tyres.  This will be a good test of the "real world" benefits on expedition riding the maximum floatation vs rolling resistance debate.

14 hours, 20 below.

The Iditabike (Iditarod Trail Invitational race/ ITI)  is a 1,000 mile race from Anchorage to Nome, akin to the would famous Iditarod dog-sled race.  The ITI also has a "short course" 350 mile route from Anchorage to McGrath.  This is an awe-inspiring endeavor to undertake.

A few weeks back, I got a call late in the day Friday to tag along on an ITI training ride, so I raced home to frantically throw together my winter camping gear that had been packed away since last year.
I was excited to spend the night riding with some of these racers and hear about their past experiences on the Iditarod Trail, and see if I could keep up...

   

My impulsivity got the better of me and I made a game of packing as much gear as possible onto my bike; resulting in a rig weighing somewhere north of 65 pounds (because that's where my scale stops).  But I had an avalanche shovel, two sleeping pads, french press, hatchet, coconut water, spare batteries, extra headlamp, change of clothes, and flask of booze so I was well prepared for any apocalyptic eventuality.

The ride commenced in just after 10:00 PM out my back door onto the Chester Creek trail to rendezvous with the group.  We warmed up around town, following several of Anchorage's urban trails, then worked our way up into Chugach State Park and of the front range.  My riding companions were all on 27 pound Linsky welded titanium Fatbacks with minimalist gear, so I felt a little over prepared for the evening, and was cursing the weight of my hatchet and shovel during the extended climbs out of the Anchorage bowl.  

The lack of recent snowfall and sub-zero temps had left the trail conditions packed, frozen, and fast.  A surface well suited for their Fatbacks with the standard issue fast rolling Surly Larry Tires.  My Surly Moonlander  on the other hand, equipped with the fattest, knobbiest, tires available, had me spinning hard just to keep pace as the others coasted effortlessly through any section of trail with a moderate decline.  I won the prize for most calories burned.

There is something about biking in -20 degree weather that seems to suck the energy right out of you, so we paused frequently to adjust layers, snack, hydrate, and check one-another's faces for frostbite.  

Somewhere around 4:00 AM, we bed down just off the path to take an early morning nap; and after a bite of chocolate and a shot of syrupy vodka to take the edge off the caffeine infuse energy gels, my bivy never felt so inviting.

Emerging from our frozen cocoons a few hours later, we were greeted by first light, warm coffee, and a promise of a fast icy technical single-track decent back to town.  

Home by noon. Dehydrated, exhausted, frosty, happy, and thankful for a wild Friday night.

Covered about 50 miles with a taste of what the race pace for an ITI would be like.

Definitely not going to sign up this year.