Today I can't boast big miles or eloquent recitals of cycling storylines. Because this ride was a simple tootle around the snow blanketed block, down slushy gravel roads in the midst of a gentle thaw by consent of the sun which, upon shoving aside for the afternoon the stubborn thick clouds that had encamped in the heavens since the snow/ice storm a few days earlier, was bound and determined to turn some of the white ice encrusted snow into meltwater.
The sun was certainly succeeding in changing snow into slush and water, and also to pushing the thermostat up 39°f (3.2°c) far enough out of freezing to encourage my little tootle down the road. I needed an outing as much to alleviate the pandemic mental exhaustion as to see if the road just to the west of mine had managed to snag a few more inches of snow (or ice) thanks to its slightly closer proximity to the mountain. And to see how the gravel roads had fared.
The carbon belt drive LaFree was the bike of choice because the drive train was guaranteed to handle any road mud or crap encountered along the way without complaint. I was sure I'd find roads mimicking 18th century stages of winter degredation, but instead what I found (for the most part) was smooth, hard, solid, dry beautifully maintained modern gravel. Not a pothole to be seen either. I guess I needed to give thanks to the county plows which did a dual job of removing snow and grading the road in one sweep.
I took my good old time, riding slowly, warm from head to toe (thanks to my downhill ski attire and insulated rubber barn muck boots), enjoying the snowy landscape and the perfectly smooth gravel roads while silently hoping to find at least one road that had been overlooked by the plows and left to fend for itself. In the meantime I was evaluating a hack I had found on the internet for preventing glasses fogging. It was pretty simple - merely smear a tiny bit of liquid dishwashing soap on the lenses, dip the glasses in clean water to smooth out the soap, and shake the glasses off and let air dry. Amazing, it did work! I rode along with fog-free glasses, a contoured mask keeping my lower face nice and toasty warm. I passed a few people walking their dogs, or just themselves, all enjoying the brief hour or two of warmer temperatures and a chance to get out and breathe the crisp December air.
As luck would have it, the gravel road remained dry and smooth until it was time to hit that next road comprised of a delightful mix of slush, meltwater, runoff ditches carved deep into the gravel road to expose the bedrock underneath, and a small "creek flood" ford worthy of sending a bit of cold snowmelt up around my tires.
The road was short, fun, and required no extraordinary feats of athletic ability from either myself or my bike to negotiate the minefield of snowstorm travel consequences. I did notice some hoofprints tracking in the slush and snow, traveling my same direction. It wasn't until a mile or so later that I came up on the pair of riders, recognizing them almost immediately as my far neighbor and fellow endurance rider (her place is 3 miles down the road from me).
We stopped to chat, her to ask how far I had ridden my bike today, and me to ask about her ride. Apparently, her ride was being cut short because her horse just turned up lame a few seconds ago. "I have three horses in work," she said with a resigned sigh, "and have 2.5 lame." I had to think about her statement for a moment , but decided since she was a veterinarian she may have her own scales of lameness mathematics. We chatted for a few more minutes, and then said our goodbyes, she and her friend heading across the snowcovered field to her place, walking due to her lame horse, while I continued down the road at a gentle pace, still smiling at the winter wonderland scenery around me, to my farm 3 miles away.
Would you find it amazing that my bike ended up with almost no mud at all on the frame? Nothing a quick toss of ice cold water from a bucket couldn't handle. Tomorrow is projected to be a touch warmer. Perhaps even 10(f) degrees above freezing. I think another ride may be in order - perhaps a bit longer.
