4 Degrees In The Sun


I woke up Thursday and did my normal Jason things: multiple coffees, multiple dumps, wake B, make lunches, get B his breakfast, make and eat my breakfast, check that B brushed his teeth, make sure Wifey remembers her travel mug, etc., etc. Then as soon as Wifey and B were out the door I laid down for an hour of what I call “second sleep.” Pretty much an hour for me to lay there and think about what I need to do and try to forget about the fact that I got up at 6 AM without a paycheck in sight.

Whilst I laid there digesting breakfast, what I needed to do, the never f*cking ending Trump shit show and my hatred of said orange skinned Hitler, the mouse (or bat) living (mouse, now dead) in our garage wall, and whether or not I’ll ever have a real job again, I got a text from L.C. at Terry’s filling me in on the condition of Sally’s Trail down in Alma (slow, but rideable he said). Little does L.C. know, but I farted in his general direction, turned over an farted again (I had Mexican the night before. Maybe I should build a wall? Around my anus!!! Sorry).

But then I started getting the itch. No, not the same itch I got back in art school that I needed shots for, but the itch to ride. So I exited the Chamber of Farts, got my gear together and proceeded to get ready for a ride in the woods that may or may not suck.


Step one was to bring my bike from the garage into the kitchen (sorry Wifey, but it’s cold as f*ck out there!). I was rocking some big time snirt road PSI and knew I needed to drop it low, and I mean LOW. Well, at least as low as someone as big as me running tubes can. Problem is, my gauge was in need of a battery and I’ve been too lazy/cheap to pick one up. Well, when in doubt smack shit around until it works. BINGO! Got it working and got both 3.8s to 3.5.


Next up was some adjustments to the Porcelain Rocket DSLR Slinger (which seems to no longer be available) in the form of added padding. I always keep some foam on the bottom to prevent jostling, but when I ride trails I add a bit more in case of a crash. I add it to the left to prevent any top tube camera body fornication. It may or may not work, but it gives me Piece of Mind.


After that it was on to stuffing my fatness into multiple layers of gear and loading up the Fatterson into the xB. When I looked out the garage window I was confronted with an amazing display of ice that had formed on the outside of the window from two days of wind gusts blowing snow against it. It was then that I figured I should check the weather to see how cold it was since the blue sky and sun can be deceptive this time of year. HOLY SHIT IT’S 4 DEGREES??? F*ck that! On second thought, UN-f*ck that, I’m already dressed. Let’s move out.


As I made my way down to Alma my spirits were lifted when I saw that it was warming up. F*CK YEAH 10˚!!! With that joy in my heart, I pushed on to the park, got my shit together and on the trail before I could change my mind.

The thing about Sally’s Trail is that there is no groomer per se. When you ride this trail you are riding atop the work of Sally, Terry’s Cycle, and handful of dedicated folks who stomp the shit out of it with snow shoes, and, despite how hard it may be, ride it, and ride it, and ride it until it becomes legit.


With that said, it was cold AS f*ck and despite all the hard work, riding and stomping, the trail was slow. That’s no fault of the “grooming,” it’s just that the snow we got was not quite powder and not quite wet, which makes it hard to pack down. If you held your line your were gold. If you got offline, you were jacked and not so gold. I was jacked and ate un-gold snow at least twice. It tasted amazing.


My ride was brief but fun. I sweat more than any person going 5 MPH (tops) in 10˚ weather should, but it was fun to be out playing in the snow in the woods with the deer. I think they thought I was nuts, but then again if I was nuts for riding when it was 10˚, what must have they thought of L.C. who was out three hours earlier when it was, I don’t know, ZERO!

After a short ride I made a stop at the shop to talk with the guys, and then it was off for home to get out of my sweaty kit(s), and into some warm whole wheat pasta & cabbage stir fry. And people wonder why this blog is called the Soiled Chamois!


As I type this (Friday evening) we are expecting another snow storm. That means the trail will need more and more stomping. My snow shoes are primed, are yours? If you live in central Michigan and want to help out a great little trail, get yourself some shoes and let’s get stomping, then riding!!!

I got a 3 mile treadmill run in today (no one runs a 12 minute mile like me!!) and now it’s Friday night and I got my mind on some beers, some TV with Wifey, and some Mexican food (again).


, , , , , , , , ,

Powered by WordPress. Designed by Woo Themes