Screw Those Shoes

Screw those shoes

     I decided today that I want to run on the lakes.  My running courses have run-their-course and I’m getting a little bored.  Due to the extremely icy conditions this fall, my routes have been limited.  The side roads have been scraped and offer the best footing but who wants to run on a road?  Trails and bike paths right now are downright slippery and not ideal for running.  I have always had what I consider to be above average balance and pride myself on my ability to negotiate ice without falling.  But what I’ve found is that if I want to run a bunch of miles on the stuff my gait becomes careful and guarded and not very fun.  
     I like to run.  Aside from the great workout and sense of accomplishment I get when I’m done, running is when I feel like my most athletic self.  Running is one of our most fundamental movements as humans and I like to pay attention to how I do it so that I can make adjustments and hopefully become a better runner, be more efficient, and maybe even a little faster. 
     Last week I ran home from work and quickly discovered that the bike path was extremely slick so I decided to run down the shoulder of the Talkeetna Spur road.  I usually quietly despise bikers and runners who forgo the bike path like I was doing but I figured that in this case I would be forgiven.  It was easy to figure out why I was on the road.  The bike path running adjacent to the highway, was shimmering like a playground slide.  
     Running on the side of the road sucked;  I stopped counting vehicles after 100.  “I’ve got to come up with something else.” I told myself.  
      As it turned out, I didn’t have to come up with anything.  My good buddy Mr. Inter-webs did all the work for me and I quickly found what I was looking for.  Check it out for yourself http://skyrunner.com/screwshoe.htm So with Hazelee looking over my shoulder snapping pics and asking questions, I set up shop and went to work.  Five minute job; Not bad!
     Only time will tell if this was a genius move or whether I just destroyed a hundred dollar pair of running shoes.  

Screw this job!

Screwed.

Note to self: Don't walk on Mama's floors.

   

Riding Ice

Riding Ice

     The driveway was glare ice.  Recent rains had flash frozen to the ground like a glazed donut.  As to be expected school was canceled, I had a day off! All of the side roads were slick as snot.
     I had put my studded tires on my fat bike a couple of days ago and I figured that today would be the perfect opportunity to ride the ice.  A few years ago I invested in a fat tire bike.  My thinking at the time was that winters in Talkeetna have been getting milder and I didn’t want to limit myself to recreating outside for just part of the year.  A fat tire bike is a perfect vehicle for in-between days of slop or ice.  Although it was expensive at the time, I have no regrets and my bike gets a lot of use.  
    Carefully I pushed off in the driveway and peddled around in circles to get the feel.  The metal studs dug into the ice making considerable crunching noise as I cruised along.  It sounded as if I were riding over a path of Captain Crunch breakfast cereal.  
     I tested my rear brakes on a flat section of the driveway.  The bike skidded to a stop creating three parallel lines carved in the ice. Not bad.   Next I tried using both front and rear brakes and although I stopped even quicker I didn’t like it.  It was not as stable and I didn’t like both tires locking up as I was sliding.
     “See you in a while”, I said as I set off down the driveway on my bike.  The plan was to meet at the Denali Brewing tasting room in about an hour. 
     “Okay" she said,"have fun.” 
     I made my way onto the four wheeler trail on Yoder and then turned down Winterset towards Benka lake.  The Benka Loop, as I call it is my go-to four miler from the house.  Today it was a luge course.  The crux move was a downhill chute that pinched into a big puddle at the bottom.  Was the puddle frozen?  I wasn’t sure.  Slowly I crunched my way down the hill braking and scraping my way to the puddle.  I was able to carefully break through the partially frozen puddle. I focused on good balance and before long I was safely on the other side. 

The Crux move.

     I met up with Tamra soon afterwords at the brewery and we had a good time with our friends Tracy and Mike.  Tracy and Tamra are big volunteers of the Talkeetna Bachelor’s auction each year and this year Tracy's husband Mike was sweet-talked into making a huge boom box playing to the 80’s theme.  Mike is a super-smart guy and managed to wire it up so that the lights would bump along with the music.  No doubt the ladies will go crazy for it on Bachelor’s auction night hopefully translating into more money spent/ donated to our local charities.  Click here to find out more
     As the light began to fade, I climbed aboard my bike, buckled my helmet and peddled my way across the street to the bike path that was, as you might have guessed, glare ice.  
     The studded tires made easy work of the smooth icy surface.  For about a half of a mile I wheeled over the top of some ice skate marks.  Cool. Someone else was making lemonade out of lemons and I hoped to run into them further down the bike path to see who it was but it didn’t materialize.  I turned down my road and then onto our back drive as the light dwindled.
     As I neared the house a familiar silhouette stood before me blocking the path.  I stopped.  The shadowy figure walked slowly out of my way and into the bushes.  Not wanting to miss an opportunity such as this, I peddled to the house and returned a few minutes later with just the right tool.  
     “Did you get one?” she asked.  Without speaking I closed the front door and showed her the dressed out breast meat of a fresh ruffed grouse. “Awesome!”  

Ho rs Devours night.  Tender Cutlets of Ruff Grouse seasoned with Alder smoked sea salt and black pepper
sauteed in coconut oil with a splash of soy sauce to finish. Mexican flag toothpicks are optional but encouraged.

       

Discovering Portland

Discovering Portland

 

The Stone House in Portland a.k.a. The Witch's Castle
is located about a mile up the lower Macleay trail

     “What are the chances that I’ll see a Sasquatch today?” I said. 
     “Come again?” He was cupping his ear as I repeated my question.  He laughed.  My Uber driver was Eric and according to his profile online he was hard of hearing and friendly.  Okay.
     “Over here on the right is the historic Montgomery Ward building,” he offered as we drove by.  “At one time it was the largest building in Portland.”
     I found out after a little research that the massive warehouse was built in 1919.  Montgomery Ward at the time was expanding its operations in the West and hoped to open up new markets in Alaska, Hawaii, and the Pacific Rim.  It was almost 900,000 square feet much of which was dedicated to filling mail orders. Three rail spurs served the facility extending into the ground floor moving goods in and out.  I thought about the prevalence of the thick catalogs adorning the outhouses and bathrooms of my childhood in Alaska. 
      My friend Arthur told me a story this summer about an old-timer Talkeetnan that had passed away recently. “Johnny Baker bought the first snowmobile in Talkeetna,” he said.  I was all ears. “He ordered it from Montgomery Ward and it came up on the train along with several cans of gas.”  The Talkeetna Spur road didn’t exist yet and the only hardpack around was Mainstreet.  As the story goes, he uncrated his shiny new snowmobile, poured some gas in the tank and fired it up.  He scooted down Main Street swifty, smiling ear-to-ear but when he continued-on to where the packed road ended and the untouched snow began his luck came to an abrupt halt.  He immediately got stuck in the deep snow burying the thing up to the cowling.  It wasn’t long after that that he traded it for a Jon boat owned by the owner of the Fairview bar. 

This is an example of an early 60's Ward's snowmachine.
It's been a few years since this sweet ride was
sitting in a crate at Montgomery Wards in Portland.

      The Catalogs of Montgomery Ward were the source of many Alaskans hopes and dreams and there is no doubt that they played a major role in connecting Alaska to a modernized America.
     Eric delivered me to the Lower Macleay trailhead and it was 7:00 A.M.  I bid him farewell as I shut the door of his blue Honda Camry.  I took a moment to stretch my calves, look around and then ran off down the trail with a hop in my step and enough caffeine pulsing in my veins to wake a small army. 
       As I ran down the trail I quickly became overwhelmed by my surroundings and then it hit me.  I felt as if I was running on the forested moon of Endor (you know Return of the Jedi, Ewoks, ect.) and it was glorious!  Who knew the Ewoks maintained such incredible trails? Well placed bridges, railings, and wooden walkways punctuated the trail as I moved along. 

Speederbikes and other motorized vehicles
are not allowed on the lower MaCleay trail

The giant Douglas fir trees towered above me as I wound my way alongside a small creek and up a ravine.  I found out later that somewhere along the line I passed the tallest tree in Portland, a Doug fir standing at 242 feet!  How did I miss that one?

      My Star Wars imagination was exacerbated when I passed a huge tree that had fallen across the trail.  It was no problem because a trail crew had already been through with a massive chain saw and the trail continued uninterrupted. The two rounded tree butts displayed their rings as I passed between them.   I couldn’t help but think of the infamous Ewok log trap as I passed between the log ends, each of which was over five feet in diameter.   Finally, I made my way up several switchbacks taking me out of the ravine, across a road and finally up to the famed Pittock Mansion.

     Henry Lewis Pittock might have been the first to summit Mount Hood, the tallest mountain in Oregon.  His boss at the Oregonian newspaper at the time claimed to have done it first but the account of his details were sketchy.  I’m siding with Henry and his four buddies who apparently had fun throwing rocks off the summit over a 3,000 foot cliff.  Before they descended they bellowed out nine exuberant cheers (Hip Hip, Hurray! )
     Henry Pittock, aside from his potentially prodigious mountaineering feat, made quite a name for himself in the Portland area as a businessman, family man and community advocate.  His life's work with the Oregonian gained him fame, fortune and social status. Henry and his Wife, Giorgianna, had five children and had the mansion built by local artisans on a high spot overlooking the city.  As lore would have it, the day before he died,  having been stricken by influenza had himself carried to one of the east facing windows of the mansion so he could gaze once more upon the vista of Portland of which he had influenced so greatly. 

     I took my time to admire the garden and the stonework of the mansion.  A paved walkway passed under an arch between living quarters and the main house leading to the same view Pittock must have gazed upon in his dying hours. Near the garden was a water fountain.  I made my way over to the fountain and gratefully drank from it as I thought about the life and times of Henry Pittock.
      Before long I was back on the trail passing back down the lovely path that was bespeckled with giant yellow leaves falling from tall trees.  The Endor sentiment was still strong with me and for a moment I was sure that I heard a Wookie call in the far distance.  I quickly realized how ridiculous that was; It couldn’t be a Wookie, this is the Northwest,  It was probably just a sasquatch.

                                       Push play below