Tri-umphant!

Week 23: August 4-August 10

Bike: 67 km (40 on road and 27 on trail)
Run: 6 km
Swim: 1800 m

The Yukon's crazy summer schedule leaves many weeks where your taper begins before your recovery can end. After the Yukon River Trail Marathon, I had only 7 days to recover, prepare and taper for the Long Lake Triathlon. The bulk of the week was spent recovering from knee pounding downhills that left me barely mobile on Monday. It took until Thursday for me to move into the training stage of my event preparation cycle. Because of the fairly consistent schedule of running and biking, I knew that the only real gap for the triathlon was going to be the open water swimming. Although I've been practicing at Marsh and Long Lake, I wasn't convinced that the 1 km open swim was possible, let alone a good idea. To help build my swimming self-esteem, I biked out to Long Lake on Thursday night to practice in the water.

I have already spent considerable time on this blog moaning about the stupid temperatures of Yukon lakes. What I haven't talked about it is the potential for catastrophe due to unexpected water animals. It is true, I don't have to contend with the possibility of fatal shark attacks like those in San Diego. That being said, Yukon Lakes may be more dangerous than anyone actually expects, with frightening creatures ready to pop out and attack at any given time. On Thursday, I was the victim of such an attack, which Tony graciously captured on video (while he could have been saving me). In a perfect world I could have edited this video to be faster with the Jaws soundtrack playing softly in the background, but it's not a perfect world, so this will have to do:

Post swim I was feeling confident about the open water and ready to move into the taper/madly cleaning because Tony's Mom is set to arrive in 48 hours phase of the week. The only training left to do was wetsuit stripping - a very technical part of triathlons that involves the removal of the wetsuit and preparation for the bike ride. I was very lucky to have Ms. Alexis back for a visit from Vancouver and ready to assist me with all my transitional needs. On Saturday night, I jumped into the shower with my wetsuit, and then we practiced stripping it off as quickly as possible. When we got it down to 30 seconds, I knew I was fully prepared for the weekend ahead.

Tony, Alexis and I arrived bright and early to Long Lake. While I got dressed, Tony checked out my bike and Alexis laid on my towel and read (which I'm sure was helpful in some way). With about 10 minutes left until start time, Alexis perked up and abandoned reading to make fun on my wicked triathlon outfit - boy, I miss that girl...

Finally, it was race time. I tried to set myself right in the middle of the swimmers, mostly because I wanted to get kicked a few times, just to see what it might be like in a bigger group. Unfortunately, Yukoners are much too congenial and I remained unscathed throughout the swim start. As I moved through the water I realized a few important points of open water swimming. First of all - it's good to know where you are going. Not just in the 500 m out and back way, but really know where the turn around is. Otherwise, you do like me and just swim in one general direction, taking a longer way than necessary. Secondly, it's good to de-fog your goggles before you start, because not being able to see the buoy (which you haven't bothered to scope out) can be tough through foggy lenses. Despite these minor inconveniences, the swim went swimmingly and I came out of the water near the back, but feeling strong. The training helped and Alexis had my suit off and top on in 24 seconds, getting me on my bike faster than some of the girls who had beat me out of the water.

The next part of the triathlon was a 15.5 km mountain bike ride. This ride would have been much nicer had it not started with a ridiculous climb up a gravel road, and transitioned into a constant climb up soft muddy trail. The mud only ended with the loose gravel/sand began (which was conveniently located at the ridiculously steep downhills). I have decided that before I race another mountain bike ride, I'm going to get myself some sport glasses. Not being able to see the trail ahead is a major problem when mountain biking and bound to lead to my early death.

Finally we were at the run, which was a hilly run by normal standards, but reasonable compared to last week's marathon. This is the part of the race where I gained the most time. Although my bike was not strong, I seemed able to maintain the most energy for the final portion of the triathlon. This is a big improvement over last year, where I was physically done before the run even started. I did two loops of the course cheered on by Tony, his Mom and her friend Lee who were down for the visit.

The big shock of the day came after I rolled into the finish line. The miracle of all miracles seemed to have occurred through some cosmic combination of fates. I had actually posted the fastest female time for the race! For the first time in history (actually this might not be true, I think I won a ski race when I was 6) I won a sporting event. While I don't expect this phenomenon to repeat, I am happy to have tasted the sweet nectar of a gold!

Sierra posted this on Aug 14, 2008 from the outside | | permanent link

Saying Goodbye

A couple weeks ago a group of us joined together to say goodbye to a very special colleague and friend - the ass hatchet. As some of you may remember, the ass hatchet was an important part of the Triathlon team, although his butt paralyzing powers led to his retirement from cycling and the world in general.

The ass hatchet was born in a small factory in southeast asia. He traveled across the continent with a couple dozen of his closest family members. Life across the ocean was tough for the small ass hatchet, as his rough edge kept him bouncing from bicycle to bicycle. In March of 2008 he joined his final bicycle, the Ghetto Greyhound. At first, it seemed that the ass hatchet had finally found the bike he so desparately wanted. But, after 35 km in the triathlon, something horrible happened, and the ass hatchet started to cut off circulation to Ben's legs. The day after of the triathlon, the ass hatchet was replaced by a less horrifically painful seat.

On Ben's last full day in the Yukon, we decided that it was time to properly lay the ass hatchet to rest. There were lots of ideas - a burial in the backyard garden, a cremation along the triathlon route, or a crucifixion on the power pole marking the triathlon turn around. There was one problem with each of these suggestions - as Tony so astutely observed, they did not involve power tools. It was decided that the only way to integrate power tools into a ridiculously over the top burial was to host a Viking burial complete with a burning funeral pyre.

While Tony and Ben worked on constructing a floating pyre, Lisa, Jen and I collected other important funeral items - basically champagne. Once the pyre was ready, we headed to Schwatka Lake for the ceremony.

Unfortunately, we forgot one important item - matches. Tony and I worked hard to get the pyre going with a pathetic bbq lighter. It took us a while, but eventually the pyre was lit.

Using a long piece of wood, we pushed the pyre out to sea and watched as it left this world in a glorious sea of chemically enhanced (thank you fire starter) flames.

As the seat slowly melted away, we enjoyed our bottle of champagne and a final day with our friend Ben on the shores of Schwatka lake.

Sierra posted this on Jul 25, 2008 from the outside | | permanent link

Trying it Dry

Week 18: June 30-July 6

Bike: 42 km
Run: 31 km
Swim: 500 m (but in the lake, so it should count for more)

After 2 consecutive bike event weekends, I was tempted to spend this weekend relaxing on my deck. But, it's the Yukon and it's summer which means if you aren't over-programmed and over-tired, you simply aren't taking advantage of the long days. This week-end was the Dry-Tri, an event that I'd never participated in, but had heard great things about. It was also an opportunity for Tony and I to actually participate in an activity together.

The Dry-Tri is a duathlon composed of a 4 km trail run, 14 km mountain bike ride, and 8 km trail run. I was planning on taking legs 1 and 3 (the two running legs), and Tony was going to conquer legs 2 and 4 (the mountain biking and beer drinking legs). I started us off with the run, which was a 2 km climb up a consistently horrific hill, followed by 2 km down a horrific hill. Thankfully, I had Cassandra to run with and she kept me powering up when I was seriously considering faking an ankle injury. On the final 500 m of the event, Cassandra screamed at me to lay down the hammer, which I was not really prepared for. I sprinted towards the transition zone and watched Cassandra race past me on the final corner (rumor has it she was shooting EPO before the race...). I'm getting my own revenge by posting this picture of her - you know the event must be good, normally people don't smile like this at the beginning of the race.

Cassandra and I then sat around the picnic tables and waited for our mountain biking team-mates to finish their portion of the event. Tony ripped it up on the bike and managed to pass about 20 people, before sending me back on the course to get passed by most of those people (and a few others). I'm worried that Tony might trade me in for a faster team mate next year.

We managed to finish in under 2 hours and got straight to the beer and salmon. The highlight of the Dry-Tri was definitely the post-event party. Lots of awesome Yukoners (and their dogs) were out and about, and we were lucky to have one of the nicest days of the summer. By the time the rain started, Tony and I were off to Beth and George's for a lovely pot of pasta. Weekends don't get much better than this! Plus I got to make out with Sid Vicious the wonder Vizsla

Sierra posted this on Jul 13, 2008 from the outside | | permanent link

Faerie Faerie Fast

Jenn and I as faeries...I don't know who the creep with the moustache is.

Week 17: June 23-June 29

Bike: 114 km (of trail)
Run: 0 km
Swim: 1000 m

As many of you know, I became Mrs. North of 60 almost 2 years ago when I married Mr. North of 60 (aka Anthony). Since that day I’ve enjoyed what most would consider wedded bliss - minus the occasional “disagreement”, when Tony can’t accept that I’m always right (even when I’m wrong). Some might be shocked however to discover that Tony and I suffer from one fundamental disagreement that threatens to destroy everything that we have built together. I am a “roadie” and he is a “mountain boy”. This great divide has resulted in a garage that contains an odd collection of bicycles - my half have skinny wheels and carbon frames, while his collection are big, tough and willing to run over anything that stands in their path. In an attempt to find some common ground, we have both tried to convert the other. In my case, the attempted conversion resulted in a pimped out mountain bike - I think Tony figured “build it pink and she will ride”.

This year, Tony has been wonderful about hitting the pavement with me, and we’ve gone on some nice long road rides, including our Golden Circle adventure. Now that the Kluane Chilkat bike relay was over, it was my turn to put away the carbon and bring out Frederika the Goddess of the Trail (my mountain bike). This weekend was Tony’s favourite sporting event of the entire year - the 24 Hours of Light. The appeal of this particular event is that it combines Tony’s three favourite activities - mountain biking, drinking beer and watching me walk around in spandex. Unfortunately for him, the cool weather curbed the spandex watching, as more substantial clothing was required.

While the 24 hours of Light has always involved some sort of build up, this year was particularly special with loads of guests coming out to participate in the big event. Jenn and Ben had recruited six friends from the South to ride on our teams and Jill from Juneau was here to defend her solo female championship; I had discovered that an old high school colleague was driving up from Edmonton to race with his wife, so we were expecting a packed house.

Before the actual week-end event, the entire gaggle of guests decided to enjoy the Yukon’s mountain bike trails, including a special trip to Montana Mountain in Carcross. Getting to Carcross with 13 bikes and riders was not something I’d like to attempt again, but I think the chaos of packing was ultimately worth the riding. With the large number of riders and skill levels, we spent most of our ride divided into two groups. The girls group had the elite riders who wanted to huck off massive jumps and nose-manual over catwalks. The boys were generally sissies that just wanted to climb up the massive mountain and brake down weenie trails - they were joined by Steph, a former pro-mountain bike racer. Yes, that was sarcasm - the difference in skill/technical level was evident from the start when we chose to ride “Old Wagon Trail” and they went down “The Rock Garden”…where would you rather fall off a bike?

The riding in Carcross was phenomenal, although the girls certainly chose to take more of a hike-bike-click approach. According to my Garmin watch, we spent about 1/3 of the time taking pictures of our crazy manoeuvres. The highlight was when Aisha walked back up a hill, so that 4 of us with cameras could stand at the bottom and catch her in all of her mountain biking glory. The result was definitely worth the extra time and multiple camera angles.

After riding down “Tin Cup Trail”, my favourite of the Carcross paths, we rode the railway back into town and stopped for the highlight of any Carcross trip - ice cream!

The next day, we woke up bright and early - ready for 24 straight hours of biking, drinking, eating and cow-belling. We had divided our teams along the same lines as our recreational riding - girls vs. boys. In this case, however, we got to keep Steph, our secret weapon. The girls team was named Faerie, Faerie, Fast and was composed of myself, Lisa, Tracy, Jenn, Barb, Steph, Aisha, and Heather. In keeping with our theme we decked ourselves out in faerie ears and sparkly wings. Barb, decorator extraordinaire, also brought fresh flowers for our picnic table and tulle to decorate our campsite. The boys, who had decided to go with the “Strange Brew” (Bob and Doug McKenzie) theme, quickly ruined all our faerie hard work with back bacon, beer and flannel.

The riding was great! Steph threw down the fastest girl lap of the entire race with a blistering 45 minute turn. The rest of us happily puttered around the course, a little bit slower, but just as sweaty at the end. Barb impressed everyone with her late night laps, and we managed to keep someone on the course for the entire time, except for 2 hours between 5 and 7 am, when I was cooking breakfast for all the riders (I will NEVER eat bacon again) and Jenn was getting ready for the first morning lap.

I had two highlights from the race - I successfully hit my sub-1 hour goal by finishing my first lap in 53 minutes (while wearing a skirt and faerie ears as displayed in my last post). I also rode the Kona Africa Bike. This is a 35 pound, single speed, steel bike that Kona makes and donates to aid workers in Africa. Each team was “allowed” to ride the bike in exchange for a donation, and each lap completed on the Africa Bike counted as a double lap. I knew that riding this bike would be difficult, but didn’t quite expect the pain that came with pounding up the hills on a single speed tank, nor did I expect the fear associated with tearing down steep hills with nothing but coaster brakes to keep me from death. Despite all this, I completed my Kona bike lap in an hour and fifteen minutes, while wearing a charming green skirt that I think complimented the cruiser-like quality of the bike quite nicely. If you are interested in donating to the Africa Bike follow the link.. Please note, that the look on my face is one of terror as I speed down a single track section with coaster brakes that aren't particularly effective.

Sierra posted this on Jul 09, 2008 from the outside | | permanent link

Back Smack

Dear Jill from Juneau,

I hope you enjoyed your stay with us here in Whitehorse. I hope you enjoyed the down duvet and feather pillows, not to mention the swimsuit you borrowed to use the hot tub. I hope you didn’t mind us touring you around the best Yukon mountain bike trails, and feeding you fresh lettuce greens from my garden. It is unfortunate that I didn’t have a chance to read the smack talk you posted on your blog before you got here – I must have missed it while I was frantically cleaning and cooking in anticipation of your arrival.

I have some good news for you – next year, if you dare to cross the border, I will be waiting to crush you in the 24 Hours of Light race. You may have set the new female solo record – but I will take that record and annihilate it. Starting today, I will methodically prepare for the day that I destroy you, using all my Yukon powers. I will stop shaving my legs to create a warm covering that will keep me moving through the cold Yukon night. I will make friends with the local bears and coyotes and use them to block your path and distract you in the early morning hours. I will use all 22 hours of light to train my body into an endurance biking machine.

I know that you are scared, I know that you recognize you are coming to the end of your reign as the Whitehorse 24 Hours of Light champion, but I have more bad news for you Jill from Juneau – I’m half American. That’s right Jill, I am the spawn of a full-blooded American mother, which means in addition to all my amazing Canadian skills – I know how to win. I will dig deep into my American self and I will do whatever it takes. If it looks like you are ahead of me, I will jam a pump into your wheels then bunny hop over your sprawled body. If your insanely fit body has more speed/endurance (which we all know it does) – I will accidentally make the wrong turn and shorten the course by a couple miles (yeah – that’s right, I know what a mile is). I will use every manipulative trick known to cyclists and beat you in the name of freedom and democracy. So be prepared Jill – be prepared to hurt!

Sierra from Whitehorse

P.S Can I still come stay at your place when I visit Juneau?

Sierra posted this on Jul 01, 2008 from the outside | | permanent link

Ridin' in the Rain

Week 16: June 16-June 22

Bike: 270 km
Run: 0 km
Swim: 1500 m

It was solstice weekend in the Yukon and time for more than 1000 cyclists to join together in suffering and complete the 240 km ride from Haines Junction to Haines, Alaska. This ride an be done in teams of 8, 4, 2 or as a solo. For the first time, I was attempting to finish the entire trip as a solo rider. Thankfully, I had my Dad to ride with, a seasoned veteran on his 4th full Kluane Chilkat bike ride. The plan was to ride together, and then I would sprint away in the final 20 meters (a skill I had learned from my Mother who had honed the maneuver during the Birkie ski race.

As a solo female rider, I knew I was going to be in a pretty small grouping. I was crossing my fingers, hoping that there would be less than 3 of us - guaranteeing myself a podium finish. Unfortunately, my hopes were dashed when I got to the Captain's meeting and saw there were 6 girls - my hopes for the podium were gone and I was fairly sure a top 5 would be out of reach. At least I was going to finish in the top 10...

After 5 years my KCIBR planning skills have been perfected. This is after a 2 years of doing the full drive in one day (5 am drive to Haines Junction for the start and a post-race drive back to Whitehorse)and 1 year of 3 people sleeping in a 1 bed hotel room. This year, I booked the hotels one year in advance and took the Friday off work. This approach worked well - especially because I was extra careful and booked 2 rooms in both Haines and Haines Junction, so when Dad tried to check into the Alcan and there was someone already in his room, we were able to all sleep in the same room without too much trouble.

The Haines to Haines relay started with a Bailey's and Coffee early Saturday morning. I have decided that this is not an ideal pre-race beverage, as it didn't take long for my stomach to become displeased with me. My Dad and I started off slow (okay - we were the last ones to get up the Haines Junction hill), but soon took advantage of an uncharacteristic tailwind and starting flying towards Dezadeash Lake. It seemed like the first 3 legs of the course were over with quickly and besides a mini-breakdown at leg 2, where I thought my knee would cause me to pull out of the race, I was feeling good. My Dad and I were riding together and able to rotate pulling (with the Dad rotation being inevitably longer than the daughter ones). Even when we hit leg 4 and the big hill out of Million Dollar Falls, I was feeling strong and had a great ride up the hill with Wendy (thank God her bike was about 5 pounds heavier, 10 years older, and I was able to keep up).

The main job of my KCIBR support is to listen to me whine. I usually catch up with Tony and the Subaru every 20 km, which gives me almost one hour to think about all the things I could whine about. I create a mental list, which I then prioritize, just in case I don't have time to whine about everything. When I met up with Tony after leg 4, I started whining about my stomach, when Tony (correctly) pointed out that I'd only drank 1.5 bottles in 100 km of riding. This was a bit dissappointing because it ruined my perfectly good complaining with a solution. Then I whined about having to pee - Tony pointed out a bush for me to squat behind. I was almost out of ideas when it started to rain harder, and I began to whine about being cold. At this point I realized that my Dad still hadn't arrived, which was part of the reason I was getting cold. This led to some fairly heavy duty complaining that I didn't know what had happened to my Dad. Unfortunately, Dad did not have the complaining gene and had been suffering through some stomach problems and instead of whining had decided to take a quick nap in the ditch. I didn't know this, so I decided to keep moving on my bike, and leave Tony the job of finding my Dad.

Once I got back on the road, I caught up with George and his pack of solo riders who were kind enough to let me join their pack. I couldn't decide if the pack riding was good because it cut out the (now) headwind, or if it was a bad thing because the wet conditions were leading to grit and water being sprayed into my already wet face. Leg 5 of the race was definitely the most brutally slow and miserable, and I was happy when we got to the checkpoint and the last of the summit legs. At this point, I had to disembark from my pack of fellow solo-ites, as they were stopping for food and Tony was still behind me with the dry/warm clothes. I was nice and soaked and figured that stopping would lead to hypothermia and possible death.

Leg 6 started with a big climb, but my favorite "Steep Descent - 18 km" sign was at the top of the hill and I started to cruise down towards Haines. The hill was long, fast, rainy (picture being pelted with little spit balls at 50 km/h), and very cold. The realization that I was going to get to the bottom of this hill, completely soaked, and Tony was nowhere to be found started to sick in and I began to panic...who would be there to hear me complain about the freezing rain or road grit??? More importantly how would I ever warm up. At checkpoint 7 I found salvation in Beth's friend Margo, who was able to provide a warm coat; as I sped by the 50 car line up waiting at the border I realized this would be my last piece of dry clothing until the finish line.

The last 2 legs were long, flat, windy and largely uneventful. My IPod bit it with about 30 km to go and I suffered through the last hour and a half in silence. Tony managed to catch me with 20 km to go and we planned to meet at the finish line, so I could get some warm clothes. I happily rode through the finish, down the hill and into the waiting car. I stripped out of the cold, wet clothes (much too tired to be modest) and we headed back down the course to support my Dad through the final 20 km. Our hotel room was about 100 meters from the finish, and when Dad crossed the line we went straight for a warm shower.

The 5th riding of the KCIBR was a success. The big question will be whether I solo it again next year (a challenging, but relatively pain-free experience), or try it as a 4-person team and go with a fast, but insanely difficult event. Only time will tell...

Sierra posted this on Jun 30, 2008 from the outside | | permanent link

Triathlon - Year 2

Week 12: May 25-June 1

Bike: 120 km
Run: 40 km
Swim: 2000 m

Week 13: June 2-June 8

Bike: 24 km
Run: 5 km
Swim: 0 m

Week 14: June 9-June 15

Bike: 126 km
Run: 0 km
Swim: 1500 m

In the past 2 days, a half dozen people have asked me about my blog. This has left me with a serious case of blogger's guilt, because I have not been good about updating. In a desperate attempt to catch up, I'm summarizing three weeks into one post. You will also notice that I'm changing my "weeks" so they include both Saturday and Sunday. This approach seems to work more logically because it fits with my training schedule.

The last three weeks have been dominated by one event - the second running of the Whitehorse triathlon. Last year was my first ever triathlon, and it was not a particularly pleasant experience. In fact, it was downright painful. This year, I went with a little more training and a lot more gear - including the lovely Contessa Von Awesome, my new Scott triathlon bike. Although the bike was specifically bought for triathlons I didn't think I'd rider her until the week before the race. I'd been having real problems with her and trying to maintain a triathlon position. The biggest problem was that I was getting blown all over the road and I was too scared to stay on my tri-bars. I was about to give up on Contessa all together and ride Lucy in the race, but the day the Tuesday before the triathlon, Tony dropped my handlebars by an inch and I decided to give her one last try. It turned out that Contessa was worth every penny when it came to battling a headwind, for the first time in my life I prayed for strong winds on race day!

The day of the triathlon, Ben and I went to the pool bright and early to secure prime bike parking for the transition zone. Unfortunately, neither of us really knew what "prime" parking might be, so we just ended up sticking our bikes anywhere. Following our setup, we headed back to Ben's house to pick up Jen and make our last minute clothing adjustments. Ben and I were both in the first heat, so by the time we got back to the pool it was time to get marked up and into the water. There are both advantages and disadvantages to being in the first heat. The advantage is that you get to the bike transition while it is fairly clear. The disadvantage is when you get passed by people who started 45 minutes after you - it's fairly humiliating. Last year, I was passed by many second heat participants - this year I hoped to minimize the humiliation.

The first event - swimming - is my weakest, but also the thing I've been working the hardest on. I was thrilled to get out of the pool in 31 minutes, the fourth one out of the pool in my heat. The bike transition went well, and I took off on the road for the second portion of the event.

The bike ride into the wind went well, and at the turn around I was feeling strong. My event history in the Yukon is such that I am a regular top 20 finisher - this would be more exciting except for the fact I've never been in an event with more than 20 people. Usually I place comfortably in the bottom 5 of the field, a position that I am happy with considering the caliber of athletes in this town. Imagine my surprise when I realized that with 20 km to go on the bike, only 2 girls were still in front of me. I decided to seize the opportunity and race back to the Games Center, knowing that it may cause me to completely breakdown in the run; but it could be the one and only time I ever finish something first. I don't know if it was the surge of competitiveness, or the 1750 gram bike, but with legs a-spinning I managed to zoom past the other girls and into the transition zone - first! It didn't matter that the second heat would surely have faster swim/bike times, I managed to get to the transition line before anyone else. It was thrilling, for about 2 seconds, then I realized I still needed to run 10 km and I was not a strong runner. Ooops!

The final leg of the triathlon was a 5 km run up Hamilton Blvd. and a 5 km run down Hamilton Blvd. My goals was to be passed by as few people as possible. I managed to stay in the front of the pack for about 20 meters before the first team sped passed me, with the burden of leading the group gone, I was free to run at my own speed. I finished the run portion a full 16 minutes faster than the previous year and made it to the end in 2:49, 20 minutes faster than last year and 11 minutes faster than my goal. It was a good day and it felt nice knowing that with a little bit of training, and a lot of wicked gear you can improve.

My favorite part of the triathlon was getting to see everyone I had been training with, especially Mr. Ben. Ben has been my faithful swimming partner and triathlon buddy. Training with Ben is always amusing and racing with him is even better. This year was Ben's first triathlon and I think he learned a couple of key lessons - the most important being don't ride a bike that has a seat affectionately known as the "ass hatchet". By the 30th kilometer, Ben was screaming in ass-related agony and running like a robotic penguin (as described by his lovely wife Jenn). It's things like this that make sports fun!

Post-triathlon, I was feeling awesome. So awesome I decided to go for a lunchtime run on Tuesday. This awesome run resulted in horrible swollen, pain filled knees and the end of training for 2 weeks. With the Kluane Chilkat bike relay looming on June 20th, there was no point risking injury. During my hiatus from athletics I managed to zip down to Vancouver to visit Miss Alexis and get to Ottawa and a sweet room at the Chateau Laurier. Details on those may (or may not) follow. But for now, I am caught up and entirely guilt-free.

Sierra posted this on Jun 15, 2008 from the outside | | permanent link

Going Golden

Week 10: May 11-May 17

Bike: 451 km
Run: 6 km
Swim: 1500 m

Week 11: May 18-May 24

Bike: 440 km
Run: 8 km
Swim: 2000 m

Golden Triangle

Whitehorse to Skagway: 180 km
Haines to Haines Junction: 240 km
Haines Junction to Whitehorse: 160 km

The long weekend of May is usually reserved for gardening and hammocking - two of my favorite summer activities. This year, with the Kluane Chilkat looming over my head, Tony and I decided to use the long weekend to do a local bike trip. The Golden Triangle (or Golden Circle depending on how strict of a geometrist you are) is a ride that takes you through the White Pass and Haines Pass, with a fun little ferry ride stuck in the middle.

Right up to Saturday morning, I wasn't sure that this trip was actually going to happen. The wind in Whitehorse has been brutal this summer and the gusts from earlier in the week had me convinced that riding a bike was a very bad idea. To get ready for the bike trip, I had ridden to my work retreat at the Sundog retreat, one day it took me 2 hours to make the 35 km back to Whitehorse thanks to the awful south wind. On Saturday morning it was calm, but rainy, so we headed to Skagway.

By the time we reached Carcross 70 km and more than 2 hours later, I was frozen like a popsicle. The cold rain had managed to soak through my clothes and my feet felt like blocks of ice. I was tempted to head back to Whitehorse and resign myself to a week-end in the sauna. Tony gave me permission to go, but said he would go on the trip without me. Refusing to be out-biked by my husband, I ate two pieces of pie and carried on.

We climbed through the White Pass to Log Cabin and sat down to enjoy a nice lunch. We had a 4:30 pm ferry to catch in Skagway, but we had made fairly good time and we figured we were only 15 km from the summit and our long descent into Skagway, so a cheese and bread stop was in order. The stop was lovely, but 500 meters out of Log Cabin we realized why it was called the White Pass. In what seemed like a split second we went from planet Earth to Dagoba (Yoda's hometown). The fog was as thick, and I couldn't keep my eyes focused on Tony, who was only a couple feet ahead. At this point I decided to embrace the fog and be as miserable as humanely possible.

After what seemed like forever (but could have been 200 meters for all I know), we reached the summit and were ready to head down. This was supposed to be the "fun" part of the day. Unfortunately, the fog had not lifted, ice rain was following, and the lovely Holland America bus fleet was heading back to town. Not only did my speedometer not climb over 30 km/h, by the time we reached US Customs I was so cold that I was shaking violently on my bike. I dumped my bike against the side of Customs, ran inside and started stripping off my wet clothes in front of the 8X10 framed photos of George W. Bush and Dick Cheney. I replaced all my wet clothes with the only slightly less wet clothes from my panniers and sat in the building chattering and shaking. In the end, I finally understood why the body shakes to warm up, I was convulsing in an almost epileptic state, but I was definitely warming up.

I finally decided that if I didn't get back on my bike, we weren't going to make it to the ferry, and I crawled back on the icycle and quickly moved from winter into Skagway summer where the leaves were fully out and the flowers were in bloom. Tony had to stop at the bike store to find a spoke and I hurried to the coffee shop for a hot drink and 2 cheesecake brownies. Then it was onto the ferry and off to Haines, Alaska.

We got to Haines at around 5:00 pm and went straight for fish and chips. The food was barely in our stomachs before we headed back to the bed and breakfast, and more specifically in the bed. Our Haines to Haines Junction trip started bright and early at 6:00 am Alaska time. The early start was so that we could make our dinner reservation at the Raven's restaurant where the last sitting was at 8:00 pm. Thanks to the time change, this would give us 13 hours to complete the 240 km into Haines Junction.

To say that I was not happy at the start of our trip is an understatement. After riding the Kluane Chilkat for 3 years with a brutal headwind into Haines, Alaska, I had high aspirations of a wicked tailwind blowing me right up to the summit. When this didn't happen I threatened to turn around and hitch back to Whitehorse. Tony called my bluff and got me to Mile 33 for a deliciously satisfying breakfast and several cups of coffee. The intake of food was enough to lift me from my depression just in time to start the 1010 meter climb to the top of the Haines Summit. This is a climb that I knew well because I had flown down it several times on legs 6 and 7 of the Kluane Chilkat road relay. It's funny how hills don't seem nearly as long or steep when you are going down instead of up.

Once we hit the top of the Summit it was smooth riding through the hilly path and towards Haines Junction. The biggest problem we encountered was the lack of available water. Looking for fresh water on the Haines Road is a challenged, especially when the creeks are named things like: Goat Creek, Chuck Creek and Buffalo Creek. I kept my eyes peeled for Evian Creek, or Purity Creek, but eventually settled for whatever slow flowing water was closest to the road. For the next hundred kilometers I just imagined I was drinking lemon-lime-grass-mud flavored gatorade. by the time we hit Dezadeash Lake (80 km from Haines Junction) we had run out of water. You would think we would have ridden to the lake to refill, but the long hours had affected our brain cells and we were well on our way to Kathleen before we got desperate for some water. With only 20 or so kilometers left, we came to the Kathleen Lake Lodge, a newly opened lodge between Kathleen Lake campground and Kathleen River. Thankfully the lovely owners had water...and pie. Two pieces of pie, a Pepsi and a big bottle of water later, we were ready to tackle the final kilometers back into Haines Junction.

We arrived in Haines Junction with enough time to enjoy a hot shower before our Raven's reservation. After warming up and cleaning up, we had a fabulous meal at the Raven capped off with Tiramisu and Creme Brulee for dessert. If you are in Haines Junction and eager for an amazing meal, I strongly recommend the Raven's gourmet menu. Post-dinner we crashed in our lovely Raven's Room and enjoyed a well-deserved sleep.

The last day of riding was nice because our only time goal was to get to Whitehorse before Gossip Girl. This meant we had enough time to sleep in and enjoy a very big breakfast before hitting the road. Being a Monday of the long weekend, we decided to try to get as many kilometers in as possible before all of Whitehorse decided to drive home. We managed well and got to Kusawa before the RVs really started to zoom by. When the traffic got heavy, we decided to pull in for some calories. By day 3 I realized that I couldn't physically eat the amount of calories that I wanted to consume and was wanting to eat something every 15 minutes. At the pull out we met a lovely woman from Anchorage that should have never been allowed behind the wheel of a vehicle. We tried desperately to get her on the road in front of us, but unfortunately she insisted on hanging out at the rest stop and we spent the next 30 minutes fearing for our lives. Thankfully she managed to pass us without inadvertently running as over.

We pulled into Whitehorse and came home to find a very happy Starbuck. My calorie deficit was significant and I ended up eating a box of Kraft Dinner, a cheeseburger, 2 tins of tuna and a mini tub of ice cream as my post-bike dinner. I would have had onion rings, but somehow the Whitehorse A&W can't seem to keep them in stock. The next day I realized a couple important lessons about long bike trips: hotels/bed and breakfasts are the way to go, riding with your husband/wife is always a good idea because you have to forgive them even when they are a fatigue-induced jerk, and saddle sore is a noun as well as a verb...ouch!

Sierra posted this on Jun 03, 2008 from the outside | | permanent link

Rubbing Saltspring In

Week 9: May 4-May 10

Bike: 134 km
Run: 32 km
Swim: 1500 m

After my Vancouver marathon weekend, I decided to test out the roads of Saltspring Island with a small bike tour. Of all the Gulf Islands I had chosen Saltspring for a very good reason - Saltspring Island Cheese. I figured that a place that made delicious cheese would be the perfect location for a long bike ride. Despite my great hope for biking and brie, my trip to the Islands was full of unexpected problems.

Problem #1 was getting my bike from Whitehorse to Vancouver. The solution, although somewhat easy, was also unfortunately expensive. We decided to buy a bike box from the local bike shop. I was hoping that the bike would just magically fit into the box without adjustment, this was not the case. Tony and I spent the better part of Friday night trying to figure out how to get the bike to fit in a box. Alexis helped by laying in the box and exclaiming it was her new garage bed and Starbuck helped by trying to make Alexis throw him a frisbee. Wow...who could ask for more helpful friends.

Problem #2 wasn't realized until after we had managed to get the bike safely into the box. We had forgotten to add the rack which would be able to carry panniers. There was no way we were taking the bike back out, so I decided my tour would have to be taken from a central place, instead of point-to-point. The only plan I had made was to start in Saltspring, so this small alteration in style of ride wasn't going to involve changing accommodations or anything else.

My bike tour started with a trip to the Tsawassen ferry terminal. The bus system is fabulous in Vancouver, and I was easily able to get my bike on a bus to Ladner. Once at Ladner (in Delta), I popped off the bus and rode the beautiful bike path through farm country to the ferry terminal. My Gulf Springs ferry was planning to take 3 Island stops before Saltspring, so I spent my morning enjoy a prolonged nap in the waiting area of the Princess of Something-or-other. I arrived in Saltspring at about 1:30 and rode my bike off the ferry and into Ganges to find a hotel room. I was able to quickly secure a room at Wisteria Guest House. I had grand hopes of finishing 100 km in my first day, so I dumped my stuff into my room and jumped on my bike to start my big ride.

The first thing I realized on my Gulf Island adventure is that Saltspring is not a flat island. The hills were frequent, but never too long or too hard. Easing the pain in my quadriceps was the beautiful scenery which included great ocean views:

And wonderful farmyard encounters:

As soon as I reached the furthest point from Ganges and Vesuvius, the two northern towns, something went terribly wrong. Problem #3 was a derailleur in my wheel:

Apparently Saltspring is the not the happy little hippie town it used to be. I spent the next hour and a half walking down the road with my bicycle. For the first 15 minutes I carried my bike because the back wheel didn't move at all (and I figured carrying my bike was a fairly obvious sign that I needed some assistance). After three Jaguars and a Lexus SUV passed me, I realized that I might as well remove my derailleur because no-one was going to stop and it was a LONG way to carry a bike to Vesuvius (which according to my map was about 10 km down the road). I made it to Vesuvius despite the heat and bad bike shoes, and a couple of nice men drove me and my mangled bike back to Ganges.

Once back in town, I stopped at the Ganges bike shop to see if there was hope, but there was nothing they could do to help. I saw my dreams of cycling slowly floating away. Worse still - I didn't make it to the cheese factory for my beloved goat cheese treat. Depressed, I went back to my room and took a long nap - figuring that there wasn't much else to do. I woke up at 7:00 pm, still upset, but also hungry. I headed into town where I realized, nothing in Saltspring was open past 6:00 pm, so it was going to have to be Clif Bars and Gatorade for dinner. So far, Saltspring was not my friend. I decided to phone Tony (mostly so I could whine) and he suggested converting my bike into a single speed using the handy dandy bike tool he'd stuck in my bag. I had never broken a chain, reconnected a chain, or used the odd tool that was apparently in the bottom of my bag, but with dreams of ash ripened camembert I decided to give it my best shot. It took me almost 2 hours, but in the end I had rechristened my bike the S.S Lucy (S.S for singlespeed) and was ready to try my luck again.

My goal on day 2 was significantly reduced - get to the cheese store only around 15 km away. My bike was clearly not pleased with its new single speed status, as it liked making a lot of odd noises, especially on big hills. My thighs were also a little upset - especially because overnight the island had not gotten any flatter. It took me a while, and I gained a new appreciation for one geared cycling, but in the end I reached my destination:

I got to enjoy a true biking lunch: banana, block of cheese, bread and coffee...yummmm

I set out from the cheese store with the thought that I might be able to make it to the second Saltspring cheese factory, but only 500 m from the gate, my chain busted and I had to get a ride back to Ganges. With nothing to do back in town, I decided that if I couldn't bike, I should at least go for a run. Unfortunately because I didn't have panniers for my bike I had done some minimalist packing and only had bike shorts and a bike jersey. I figured that it was a Tuesday and nobody would even notice, I was apparently wrong as it didn't take more than 15 minutes for someone to ask: "Is there a triathlon on today". Because it was Tuesday at 2:00 pm, I thought the answer should be obvious, but still replied "No, I just don't have other shorts."; I should have answered "Yes - I'm in the lead!". My run took me all the way up to the top of Ganges and then back down to a small point out in the Ocean. This was a special experience, as it is the only time I've ever had to be wary of seastars while running.

I finished my run just in time to zoom to my hotel room and grab my stuff for the ferry. Hopped on my re-repaired bicycle and headed out of time...but not before encountering a few familiar faces on the telephone poles in town.

The ferry took me back to Vancouver for a day of meetings before heading back to Whitehorse, a few kilometers shy of where I wanted to be on the bike, but a nice cycling trip none-the-less.

Sierra posted this on May 26, 2008 from the outside | | permanent link

Va-va-va-vancouver

Week 8: April 27-May 3

Bike: 166 km
Run: 10 km
Swim: 5000 m

It's been 3 weeks since I headed down to Vancouver with a crew of Whitehorse girls to run the Vancouver Marathon relay. This trip to Vancouver was a great way of disguising a girls/shopping/eating week-end as an athletic endeavor. It was also a chance to catch up with my lovely friend Kailyn, who I don't see nearly enough. Whenever I do get a chance to see Kailyn we do very important Vancouver things, like shop at Betsey Johnson (where nothing fits and we can afford even less), strut down Robson (where she fits in an I look like a Burly Mountain Woman returning to civilization) and eating mini-cupcakes (the worlds greatest invention, because it allows you to eat 4 kinds of cupcakes without stuffing your stomach).

The real reason ("real" meaning what we told our husbands/bosses/boyfriends) we went to Vancouver was to do the relay marathon. Our team went to Vancouver with three goals in mind: 1) kick some Kenyan butt and run away with the Marathon title 2) have fun and 3) look hot. We managed to meet two out of three objectives, which isn't that bad. As everyone knows, the most important part of a team challenge is the team name, ours was "I'm too sexy for these running shoes", an homage to Right Said Fred and the legacy of bad 90s music. Our outfits were carefully designed around the theme, and as you can see we ended up being quite the sexy group of ladies.

I started off the race with a run down towards Granville Island, I'd love to give details, but let's be honest - I just followed everyone else and didn't pay much attention to where I was going. Because I was only doing 10 km instead of the regular 42km, I had the pleasure of starting the race approximately 9000 people earlier than normal. Running with people who average a 3h20 marathon, instead of a 4h30 marathon certainly changes your running perspective. One of my great pleasures was watching the marathon leaders go by after turning around near Granville Island. Every time I watch the future winners race by, I can't help but get a little teary eyed. It's amazing how beautiful really great runners look when they are cruising along. Plus - seeing the leaders only 1/2 km from the turnaround made me feel pretty good about myself - last year in Victoria, I watched the fast guys run past me when I was 8 km into the half marathon, and they were 5 km from the end.

After my leg, I passed the baton to Nicole, one of Jenn's friends from Vancouver. Nicole was a great addition to our team, and definitely embraced our sexy theme. While Nicole started her leg, I transitioned from my running shoes to my biking gear and set off to be support for the rest of the marathon. I wasn't sure how it would work riding along the marathon course, but my biking portion was actually more fun than my running portion. It also gave me a chance to reacquaint myself with the diversity of Vancouver. Nicole's portion of the marathon ran through the less glamorous parts of Vancouver and my biking took me around East Hastings, and kept me weaving through some peoples' sleeping spaces. After spending the day on Robson, it was a good reminder of some of the social issues that can be easier to ignore than look straight at.

Lisa was the next to go and got the pleasure of winding through Stanley Park. In an attempt to keep up with her and get my morning coffee, I managed to one-hand weave down W. Georgia street with a coffee in my hand. Tracy was the next to go and ran the tough climb up to Burrard bridge before heading down to Kitsilano. Finally, Miss Jenn took us all the way back to BC Place wearing a boa, dress and fishnets the entire time.

Following our triumphant completion of the marathon, we continued our Vancouver adventure with shopping and a trip to the Eatery - a super cool Sushi joint that featured a flying Astro-Boy.

The next day, I left the girls behind to begun my solo adventure to the Gulf Islands.

Sierra posted this on May 19, 2008 from the outside | | permanent link

The Return

I'm suffering from an acute case of blog-blocking. I know that I need to write about Egypt, but I haven't found the time to sort through photos and compose stories. This is a problem, because I'm avoiding the blog until I can do my trip justice...it may be months until the next entry. To solve this problem, I am posting this small and somewhat useless entry. I am back in Canada - my pipes froze and caused sewage to backup into my basement, but otherwise life is good. I promise I will get to the Egypt entry soon...

Sierra posted this on Feb 26, 2008 from the outside | | permanent link

Notes from Egypt

A little over a week of my Egypt adventure is over and I am back in Cairo readying myself for an antiquit-a-thon. For a week I've been jotting down mental notes in preparation for the definitive Red Sea blog. Unfoturnately, now that I sit at the computer desk, with the cyber-toll ticking away, I find that composing some sort of coherent prose is practically impossible. So, I will keep my stories for the day that I can carefully connect them to the photos that illustrate my travels and instead assure anyone who may be concerned, that I am happy and alive; and have carefully suppressed any thoughts about suffocating my lovely travelling companion while she sleeps - although I can't help but think that a carefully placed used kleenex might be so much more effective in upsetting her. Enough on that - my travels with Princess will be kept for a later entry, and in all seriousness our travelling thus far has been fabulous.

The only story that I will tell for now is about my favorite travelling topic - the one thing that no matter where I go fills me with a fear so great that I consider turning around and waiting in the airport lounge until my departure date - the taxis. Unfortunately, despite numerous wishes and deep prayer, the taxis of Egypt have proven to be as frightening as any other country I have visited.

The real annoyance of the first cab ride from the airport, is that the nightmare begins long before you leave the airport parking lot. From the moment you manage to secure your Visa (the first potential disaster), the knowledge that you will soon have to barter for a cab ride to a hotel that could be anywhere in Cairo with a man who knows (based on your smell alone) that you have been awake for 24 hours navigating airports and crammed into airplanes. Clearly - you are at a serious disadvantage.

Weakened from the flight, I had no ability to argue and quickly agreed to pay the fare as long as it got me to my bed quickly. This was probably not the best move. Princess and I were quickly shuttled into a bus that took us to the far side of the airport parking lot. I don't know a lot about the Cairo airport, but I think it is probably a very bad sign when your taxi is kept out of view from any potential customers and even further away from the watchful eyes of the Tourist Police (whose exact role I have not yet determined). It was almost midnight and in the very faint moonlight, the taxi looked charming. It was black and white; and looked like it could have come out of an old Bond movie (probably a Roger Moore chapter). What I learned quickly is that charming is not a quality that should be used to find a taxi. Reliable, clean, mechanically-sound and...what would be the opposite of gas smelling???...might be better traits to look for in a cab. Our cab lacked any real amenities on the dash - in fact I think that the clock had even been jacked and probably sold to some nicer cab which was right now driving a more patient and diligent passenger from the airport to their hotel.

The adventure began as we hit the curb leaving the parking lot (the very empty parking lot that had no cars that should have caused curb hitting). The vehicular rules of Egypt are very much like those of Indonesia or Thailand - the primary mode of communication is the horn. A quick beep can mean - I'm going to hit you if you don't get out of my way or you are going to hit me and probably should alter your path. Longer beeps tend to mean hurry up, or slow down, or I'm stopping, or hey look I have two young white chicks in the back of my cab. The one real difference between Egypt and the other countries I've visited is that Egypt has large paved roadways with painted lines. Unfortunately, no-one explained to the drives that the lines are there to separate lanes and that you are supposed to drive inside the lines. Instead, a 3 lane road can accommodate as many as 5 cars horizontally and nobody is ever found within a lane. As odd as I find this, the actual method of driving is even more foreign to me (as it probably should be considering it is found halfway across the globe). Cars seem to drive in between lanes, but as soon as another vehicle comes down the road, the two cars seem, as if there was some enormous magnetic attraction, to be pulled together so closely that you could probably pass a can of soda between the windows. This can be quite frightening for innocent Canadian tourists that watch as the cars weave in towards each other - almost touching before swerving back outwards. In an attempt to calm the Princess (and secretly assuage my own worries), I explained my theory that cars in foreign countries never get in accidents and all our concerns are because of the insurance-controlled driving paranoia in Canada. This theory seemed perfectly reasonable and absolutely believable as we raced down the Cairo streets. Unfortunately, future forays have shown that there isn't a car in Cairo that doesn't have a large dent, or full body scratch marks; and it is best to avert your eyes when you see a taxi car entangled in some horrible accident.

Aside from surviving numerous taxi rides, I have spent my time reading (a great activity when you are in transit and trying NOT to watch). The best books so far are Little, Big by John Crowley and Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls - excellent reads for a chilly Whitehorse house, or a Red Sea beach lounger. Please excuse the typos and errors - there is no time to proofread - adios until the next internet cafe, or my return to Canada.

Sierra posted this on Jan 20, 2008 from the outside | | permanent link