Coping With Winter

When the weather changes directly from summer to winter in Portland, I start sleeping late, reading more, and trying to come up with ways to combat seasonal affective disorder. The last few winters were relatively fine until about Christmas - I can't stand the holidays, and by that point there's usually been at least three solid months of gray and wet. This year was disappointing despite a lot of fun, since about half of my hiking to-do list remains unchecked and sitting for next year.

This year, I've resolved to start xc skiing, indoor tennis, riding Saltzman and the West Hills with Dr B., and bike commuting in the rain once or twice a week. I bought a hybrid-esque Trek (the bike snob in me feels weird about it) to replace the old commuter, and it's ready to go. This will no doubt be miserable, and the comfort of the Subie will tempt me every time I haul that thing downstairs, but I think I'll feel better overall. I'm always tempted by cyclocross, but realistically I just don't think it's going to happen. I have been making some progress with a diet, though, so I hope that I can hit the ground running in the spring, ready to take on challenges like STP in one day, RSVP and Tour de Blast. And there are those hikes I can't wait to do, including getting a true summit of Mount Adams under my belt, a visit to the Wallowas, the Enchantments, and Mount Baker. They're saying already that this winter will be like last one, and I honestly don't know how I'm going to deal with another short summer like this if so.

In the meanwhile, I'm watching a lot of Universal Sports television, surprisingly. The only televised sporting event I've ever enjoyed has been the Tour de France, but I've been tuning in to watch everything from triathalons to adventure races, as motivation. I'm also reading a lot of mountaineering lore, one of my favorite winter hobbies. Right now I'm reading The Ledge: An Adventure story of Friendship and Survival on Mount Rainier. It's not the most well-written book ever, but I'm eating it up. Review to come when I've finished it. On the other hand, The Last Season, by Eric Blehm, was much more my style. Actually, it was much more John Krakauer's style, and the ending dragged on a little bit, but as a portrait of the uncompromising Sierra Nevada outdoorsman Randy Morgenstern, it was fascinating.

So the posts may be sparse around here for a while - it takes me a while to get motivated to do those rainy Gorge hikes, which, though beautiful have mostly become season-openers for me. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go drink enough coffee to make biking over the West Hills in the rain seem plausible.