natbikes.com

Is what you see on every car as soon as you step foot in Alaska. Essentially, it’s your waver, tread here at your own peril.

I think that I am getting a little soft in my older age, rife with accrued wisdom.

Aside from providing some ski paths, a little snow removal, and hosting a sled-dog race the local government, and area doesn’t provide much in the line of entertainment venues. Sure there are plenty of bars, but essentially for an Alaskan. Recreation is stomping off into the wilderness and more often than not, hurting yourself.

I am going winter biking today, which among other things involves wearing goggles, so your eyes don’t freeze.

I accept and clearly understand that there are risks involved in the activities of this race that include but are not limited to winter-camping, biking, running, skiing, snowshoeing, and snowmobiling. Including, by way of example and not limitation, the encounter of moose, buffalos, wolves, avalanches, overturning ice rocks, frostbite, dehydration, hypothermia, falling through thin ice, and getting run over by a snowmachine. I understand that there are more hazards than are enumerated here, and that there are unknown and unforeseeable hazards. I engage in the activity of this race/adventure with knowledge of the inherent risks of injury.

If you’re wondering about the lack of updates, my lap-top has suffered a melt-down, well more accurately a freeze up. I left it in the car one day, and it’s shoddy performance has dwindled to nearly non-productive.

This new expense has (fortunatly for the longetivity of my life) elminated the possibility of Iditabike for this year. The $850 entry fee for the ‘no-frills’ event works out to around $108/bowl of chilli. Most of the food I would air-mail to Nat Faulkner General Delivery BFE Alaska.

The ‘race’ itself is as much pushing a mountain bike as riding, and more freezing in the tundra than anything else.  Though I’m ripe for the picking, after a few excited days, I realized (read: caring people convinced me) IditaBike isn’t the best way to learn winter camping.  So I’ve concocted a winter-camping loop-ride out of town here for myself next week.  I’ll probably Max to sled-guide for me.  I’ve picked some steep climbs, and deep snow, to ensure enough walking with bike up to my waist, that I’ll have an accurate picture of the 20 days of misery that this schlepp would take.
(I saw 4 more schmoose Tues, and 2 Wed, almost skied into some more last night) trip total 27). Apparently moose are like giant tame cows. I’ve inadvertently (I keep forgetting to look out) been within 4m of them several times.

Due to dwindling funding, future adventures are temporarily on hold, as I think I’m retreating to my e-bizzl job in So-Cal within the month.

Peace to the gods-of-blowing-sub-zero-snow.

PS for recreation, I was just informed that this is the teen pregnancy capital of Amurika.  Which I guess in itself is kind of dangerous.