Roads a bit better than Saturday, until I passed the Zimmerman Road . . . Then I can only surmise that I was "on the road . . ." no real idea most of the time. About one mile up, a snow squall, nearly complete white out for the 20 minutes it took to ride two miles. Once on the Normana Rd conditions improved. Of course this turn of events made me think: "Why not ride some of the HoTN course?" So off I went . . .
Keeping on the Normana Rd I suddenly realized "there is a lot more snow up here! No, a lot more snow." It was beautiful . . . the squall abated, the wind at my back, all was right with the world. A brief stop at the North Shore Trail crossing: Gee . . . I can almost ride it!
Right turn onto the French River Road . . . Now the question becomes: If a gravel road is covered with 2+ inches of glaze ice, is it still a gravel road, or is it a 1) Eis road 2) Ijs road 3) Glace road or even 4) Ghiaccio su stada?
The next two hours, 20 miles were at times sheer madness. I know the guy in the big yellow loader/snowplow thought I was nuts. Of course by this time I had no choice but to finish. (I am of course still paying penance for my humbling experience at TUSCOBIA. Humbled by none other than Buffington, Farrow and assorted other characters. Never again shall that happen.)
At this stage, some three hours and 30+ miles into my day, seeing no dry pavement, riding on inches of ice: no real problem. Then . . . as I make a right turn from the West Tischer Rd onto the steep uphill of the Wabasha Rd . . . disaster strikes! The snow plow operators had thoughtfully laid down a layer of sand and ice melt. Once would only think that act would improve conditions: But no! My trusty Orange companion decides of her own accord to lay down!
So the question becomes: DOES IT COUNT as a fall when a bike falls (of its own volition) , while the lonesome rider stays completely upright? I say NO! (much like a tree falling in a forest, we know it makes no sound if there is no one to hear it)
I'm learning there is much to this winter biking idea. It is easy to overdress. I drink a lot more as I ride. Speeds are much slower than I ever anticipated. Muscles soreness unknown in the summer. Beautiful scenery.
Total for day: Four hours, 42 miles, full on effort . . .
It doesn't count Rich. Neither do my 88 falls on my commute Monday AM, well maybe that last one does that left a mark.
ReplyDeletebravo RICH...cAMP OUT NEXT WEEKEND???
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