It happened so fast, I really don’t know how it happened…. How did I go from a guy who was more than happy to chime in and talk shit on fat bikes and how there was NO way I was going to spend money on bike that weighs nearly 40 pounds just to ride in the snow and cold, to riding a fat bike just being part of my week? How????
Today I wanted to make up for yesterday’s non-ride and at least attempt to get out on the road. The ride’s length would be determined by the conditions of the roads. Ideally, I hoped they would have been plowed of the drifting snow but still left with a wonderful layer of tire gripping snow pack.
Well…
This weekend has not been ideal for much of anything let alone ridin’ bikes. Even bikes with girthy problems like my Surly Pugsley Musk Ox. With that said, here’s a little wrap up of my strange wintry weekend…
I had the chance to ride my bike today, and I have to say, it was pretty freaking awesome. For many people this is no big deal, but for those of us who live in the dark Hoth-like recesses of Jack Frost’s frozen polar vortex of a bung hole it can be a very big deal. A very COLD big deal…
If you can look at this photo from the 1927 Paris-Roubaix and not think it one of the coolest photos you have ever seen, I will politely ask you to never visit my blog again (not really). Thank you.
Another coating of snow, ice and slush overnight has made me a bit lonely to get out on the dirt roads. Sadly, a ride on roads free of ice and snow doesn’t look like it will be happening any time soon, so today I wasted some time THINKING about riding and pulling the velo-trigger on making a tire change.
The past “work” week did not hold much in the way of riding, just a short 15 mile mountain bike ride sandwiched in between 1.5 hour workouts at Maury’s. Thankfully that changed on Saturday, sort of.
Gravel circa 1994 – 26″ wheeled mountain bike and hip pack (not being used for Enduro™) included.
This week’s weather has been less than desirable, and for whatever reason I have had a bitch of a time dodging the rain since Monday’s mountain bike ride. Today however I somehow got my ass out the door, on the road and back before the cold, steady rains returned.
J.D. Wilkes & The Dirt Daubers (formerly The Dirt Daubers) are quickly becoming the number band on the imaginary soundtrack in my head during dirt road rides. At one time it was the sounds of Hank III that country-fried my brain and filled it with images of the critters, farms, landscapes and undercover back road meth labs of rural Michigan, but Hank is on the back burner now, replaced by J.D. and his Daubers.