Post Category → Cycling

The Ride Before The Storm

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I write this post at half time of the Stuper fucking Bowl, an ode to everything I hate about American sports. BUT, that Stuper Bowl was an excuse for us to trek a few blocks over to our friend’s house, eat some food, drink a few beers and be goofs for an hour or so before we called it a night.

While we watched overpaid, grossly overweight NFL jagoffs run into each other, the snow and winds thrust down upon the mid-mitten with furious anger (that is hyperbole for it was snowing and blowing). That made me smile, not because I LIKE wind and snow, but because I had forced myself out yesterday to enjoy a couple of hours of pre-snowmageddon goodness.

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Breaking & Broke

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The trail reports coming from the strong armed, jackbooted thugs at Hanson Hills (that’s a joke, they’re completely nice from what I’ve experienced) via Stalkbook and from folks who rode the trail recently (I cannot confirm their niceness or jackbootedness) claimed that the fat bike trail there was in killer shape: firm, packed and fast. So my friend Napper and I headed north early Thursday morning in his Tundra-Ram-Osaurus truck type, four wheel drive thing in the hopes of riding said firm, packed and fast trails.

Then it snowed.

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Icy Roads & Lengthy Side Notes

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While much of the north-east is digging out from winter storm Scunthorpe or whatever this one’s called, we here in central Michiganderburgh have been snowless for roughly a week. It’s been cold, there’s no doubt about that, but it’s not been horrible and the sun has been out and that almost always makes moods better. While that makes for tolerable living, it also makes for a daily freeze thaw cycle that leaves the less traveled dirt roads glistening with ice, rutted snow and a few hoof prints.

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Iced Up & Studs Out

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Friday night after B-Man’s soccer practice and after I enjoyed a Hopslam while playing FIFA ’15, I started looking ahead to a possible fat gravel snirt road ramble on Saturday. I presumed that the packed snow that I rode in on Thursday morning, followed by warmer temperatures later in the day and into Friday, combined with well below freezing nighttime temperatures would be now be ice, so I made the not-so executive decision to stud up the Farley for the morning’s ride. It ended up being the right decision. At least I told myself it WOULD be the right decision as I rolled the 1.5 miles of wet pavement towards the snow and ice packed dirt roads sounding ever so much like a giant metal box full of silverware being dragged down the road by a Sherman tank.

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A Much Needed Ramble

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Firstly: The week did not provide the opportunities that I had hoped for as far as outdoor riding was concerned, but that’s not to say the week was void of activity. The trainer was forced into service and provided much heavy breathing and ample sweatyballness, as was the treadmill, which birthed some moderate success (for a lumbering, flailing, non-runner like myself) as I ran a complete 5k (without walking) for the first time in my life. 24 hour solo, 100 mile and XC mountain bike races– yes. Running for 3.1 miles without stopping– no. I know, I know, pathetic. But I did it, now I just have to transfer that to running outside and hopefully run a few races with Wifey and/or B-Man in the spring.

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Pondering

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I recently rediscovered a book I got a couple of years ago and as is my want to do with so many books, never finished it. The book is The Lost Cyclist by David V. Herlihy. It’s the tale of Frank Lenz, a yinzer Pittsburgher, high wheeled bike racer and long distance cyclist who in the 1890s set out on his bike to travel around the world. Well, Franky went and got himself vanished during that tour and the The Lost Cyclist is the story his early high wheeled adventures, the dawn of the “safety bicycle” (a bike with inflatable tires), his attempt at riding around the world, mysterious disappearance and the subsequent search for him that ensued, lead by fellow cyclist and adventurer William Sachtleben.

I picked the book up again last night and nearly an hour later found myself super, mega, re-sucked in to it as Sachtleben tried to track down clues as to Lenz’s disappearance. I won’t go further into it in case yinz (my Pittsburgh is showing, sorry) want to read it, but I saw the above pic of Lenz just sittin’ and chillin’ during one of his rides and just loved the photo. It also ended up stirring up a few more thoughts…

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