Thursday has quickly become my day to head northward and ride the trails at Hanson (not to be confused with Hanson). It has also become my day to ride with my friend Napper. He co-owns the shop I frequent, and I have no f*cking job, so his work schedule is flexible and mine is non-existent. Thus our partnership in this Thursday (thankfully non-sexual) affair.
The other day during one of my winter dirt road ride rambles I rode by one of the many crop irrigators that have been left to freeze their spouts off in the blustery, wide open Michiganderburgh fields over the winter. I stopped for a moment –perhaps to piss or to stretch out my aging, crap lower back –snapped a pic and then got to thinking how seeing these giant, mechanical, water giving beasts out in the winter makes me sort of sad. It provokes the same feeling I get when I look out my door and see my grill, which I have once again neglected to cover with tarp, covered with several inches of snow and ice. It provokes a feeling of anxious waiting. Waiting for the harsh mid-Michiganderburgh winter to end. Waiting for the return of the momentum halting spring winds, shadeless sun and dry summer air filled with the scent of manure. Sadly there are quite a few more weeks of snow, ice and frigid temps ahead of us before that happens.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Thursday’s ride was a fail due to poor trail conditions, Friday was a treadmill run day due to a B-Man snow day (WOOT!) and Saturday’s ride was a fail due to sub-Arctic winds, blowing snow and my fat, stupid ass forgetting my balaclava. BUT! [insert royal trumpet blasts here]… I ACTUALLY had a successful ride today. Third time’s a charm bitches (that’s gangster-speak, no offense).
Look at that photo! A ribbon of snow and trail at Hanson Hills, groomed JUST for clown bikes. It’s a thing of beauty. Except it wasn’t… at least not today. Drat.
Yesterday we had blue skies, bright sunshine and 35 degree temps here in Michiganderburgh, perfect for getting out to roll some dirt roads. Sadly I was on my last day of Christmas vacation dad duty and found myself spinning for an hour in the basement. Later I would watch Facebookers post photos from their rides, hating them all with the venom of a thousand cobras. Freaking status posting bike jerks!
After 3.5 days of being ill, it was so awesome to wake up on Friday morning and not feel like I’d been drug through the street by a group of angry Stevie Wonder fans. It was even nicer to get me and my Goblin-ish chins and belly on the treadmill for a three-mile lumber, and nicer still to get out for a quick but satisfying 1:45 ramble on Michiganderburgh dirt roads via the Farley on Saturday. But…
