What a week! Monday night’s five inches of snow turned into a snow day for B on Tuesday. Snow turned to rain Tuesday afternoon and melted most of the snow before 30-40 MPH winds kicked up and falling temps moved in overnight freezing everything solid. That resulted in second snow day on Wednesday. Then Wednesday night wet got a wintry mix of snow, rain, and freezing rain, followed by falling temps which meant another snow day on Thursday. HOLY GROUNDHOG DAY!
Even though school was finally back in session on Friday, everything was covered with a mix of frozen winter puke and that meant a fifth straight day of running on the treadmill. In my own way I’ve been enjoying the challenges and the pains of being a non-runner attempting to run, but five days in a row was a bit much. I needed to ride!
Come the weekend the paved roads were ice and snow free, but the dirt roads had the potential to be long sheets of ice and wintry sludge. There was no way I was going to attempt a ride without studs.
So I found myself swapping tires in the kitchen (don’t tell Wifey!) while watching footy and drinking coffee on Saturday morning. Once I was all studded up, fed, and sufficiently caffeinated and dumped out, I took off for a dirt road ride north of town on the Fatterson.
The slow sluggish whirl of 4″ studded tires on pavement was enough to have me thinking I may have made a mistake, and the vibration from the studs on the pavement felt like someone was taking a French tickler to my bottom; I wasn’t sure if I should be annoyed or turned on and filled with shame.
Having said that, when I hit the dirt roads a mile later all that went away and any second thoughts were gone as I was greeted with miles solid ice. Finally, for once in my life, I felt like I showed up at a knife fight adequately prepared for battle. I’m the sort that usually shows up with a stick of salami and a bag of peanuts. Well fed, but ripe for a bludgeoning by small town street toughs.
Even with the studs on there were more than a few moments of ass puckering. The sun was out and the glare of solid ice could be seen for miles in front of me. This slow speed ride, was going to get even slower.
I really can’t even imagine attempting to ride these roads without studs. The ice was such that any stop made to snag a photo left me having to do a well balanced and perfectly timed remount and start to avoid a fall and a broken hip.
The bright sun glaring off the ice made it hard to even see at times, but hearing the sounds of the studs digging in helped ease some of the fear. The glaring sun also made it impossible to get Black Sabbath’s Snow Blind out of my head.
After fifteen miles on the ice, I opted to take a paved road to short cut before linking back up with more dirt ice to home where I returned happy to have kept the studded rubber down for 22 miles and eager to get a hot shower before getting into some flannel and popping open a fresh Founders Imperial Stout.
Obviously riding on ice is not my favorite thing in the world, but after five days holed up in the basement running on the treadmill it felt great to be outside on my bike with camera in hand.
Later.