As you may or may not remember, just two days ago (Friday) I was riding in 19 degree weather on a fat bike with 4″ wide tires over snow and ice packed dirt roads. Saturday I woke up and the roads were caked with ice and freezing rain. Today I was out on my mountain bike and cruising Michiganderburgh paved roads in 50 degree weather and light rain. Holy freaking psycho weather!
Of course ANY time I hear the word psycho, the song Psycho Killer by The Talking Heads pops into my feeble mind, with obvious changes to David Byrne’s lyrics:
Psycho weather
Qu’est-ce que c’est
fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa far better
Ride, ride, ride, ride, ride, ride, ride away
Psycho weather
Qu’est-ce que c’est
fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa far better
Ride, ride, ride, ride, ride, ride, ride away
Today, upon seeing that the temps were in the 50s and nearly every flake of snow and ice had melted, I set out to ride some dirt roads north of Mt. Peezy on the El Mariachi. Of course once SAW the dirt roads north of Mt. Peezy I changed my mind. To say they were a soupy, quagmire of ice cold mud and water would be an understatement. I’ve ridden some shit roads of late, but these roads were BAD. So, I opted to whirl my nearly knobless knobbies on one of my Better Than The Trainer Paved Road Rides™, and that was the right decision for sure.
After a couple of weeks of riding nothing but a fat bike, I felt like I was on a 14 pound road bike today instead of a 24-ish pound hardtail mountain bike. It was sort of sick! Sick in a freaking awesome sort of way; I loved every mile of the quick 27 mile loop.
The weather has indeed been psycho, but I would by lying if I said that it wasn’t awesome to get out for a ride in November not dressed on three layers of winter clothing and not feel like I was driving a Panzer. Sadly, this is Michigan and winter and all its cockle numbing glory will return soon enough, I’ll of course be ready for it, but I sure wouldn’t mind Ma Nature lobbing a few days like this at me every so often over the next few months. The longer my road bike gathers dust and my stationary trainer remains in some hidden recess of my basement, the happier I am.
Later.