Ice claws

Julie on Portage Lake. (1.15.11)

I'm not ashamed to admit it. Ice scares me. It can be an amazing riding surface, and it sometimes carries winter bikers to stunning places, but that stuff creaks, pops and groans, all of which serve as reminders that it can break. And when that happens, especially in remote places, you can die.

The best you can hope for is a whole heap of hypothermic misery as you get out of your wet clothing and build a fire—but that’s only if you manage to get out of the water. So I set up a little one-man assembly line last weekend and started making ice claws for an upcoming trip on frozen rivers. I should have done this a long time ago.

These self-rescue devices may not be pretty, and they have some minor impalement potential during a dry-land crash, but they’re cheap and easy to make. And if you ever have to use them, they could be priceless.

If you ride on ice, check out these instructions and videos on making and using ice claws. The information is from the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources.

Minnesotans have a lot of experience with ice, given that the state has cold winters and bills itself as "The Land of 10,000 Lakes.”

That has prompted Alaskans to brag that we have 10,000 unnamed lakes. People here routinely travel over frozen lakes and rivers on skates, skis, bikes, snowmachines and in cars and trucks.

Which raises the question ... why doesn’t Alaska have an ice-safety website?

Margaritaville

Don't try this at home, kids. (Photo by Tony A.)

There always seems to be that two- or three-second decision period as I approach an obstacle. Can I make it? What's the penalty if I blow it? Too often, I've found myself being overly cautious and missing my chance to pull off the move.

Too bad I didn't do that Sunday afternoon while riding on the coastal flats in South Anchorage. I knew there was a chance the tidal cut wasn't yet frozen, but temps have been pretty cold lately and, besides, I knew it wasn't very wide, and probably not very deep. And I knew that if things did go bad, I wasn't too far from home. So I went for it.

And that sucker was a super-thick, saltwater margarita.

All I could do as my bike went down was reach and scramble for the other side, which is a bit difficult when you put your foot down and it sinks to up to your knee with no sign of touching bottom. I scooted gracelessly out the other side, and my stranded Pugsley gave everyone in the group a good laugh while Tony snapped this photo.

Times like this are why we buy good gear. My Neos overboots kept my feet dry, and I gained a little more respect for my already beloved BB7 brakes from Avid. My front wheel came out of the slop covered in ice, with the front brake encased in the stuff—and it worked just fine all the way home. That's some good stuff.

But I'll take my next margarita on the rocks, not blended.

Glacial facials

It’s January in Alaska, which means that 1.) it’s colder than a well-digger’s ass, and 2.) the temperature’s about to drop. Any day now, we’ll hit another one of those -20F spells that are good only because when the temperature rises 40 degrees, we all feel great at 20 above zero.

It also means this is beardcicle season. OK pretty much all winter is beardcicle season, but when you ride a bike, colder air = bigger glacial facials.

That shot at the top of this post was taken by my friend Steve a couple of winters ago on one of those sub-zero nights that can make you momentarily wonder if the couch potatoes have a point when they call us nuts. My face got so iced up that night, I had trouble sticking food in my mouth. Hell, I had to find a gap just to get a drinking tube in there.

Riding in air that cold can hurt. There’s brain freeze to deal with, and your eyes water like crazy if the wind hits them. Exposed skin gets so cold it can feel like it’s burning.

Some people would think the last thing you need on top of all that is a mass of ice hanging off your face, right? But I don’t mind it, partially because I get a kick out of the weird looks it brings from other people on the trail.

But mainly, I don't mind it because it's a small price to pay for not being a slave to razors in the morning, or TV on cold nights.