The cold weather is showing very tiny hints of finally receding. It is still 10 to 15 degrees below normal. But "normal" now is close to 60 so that 45 feels tolerable compared to the 35 we've had for the last few weeks. It has been in the low 20s in the mornings, complete with snowfall on Monday morning. But this afternoon was sunny and a warm 50ish. It will maybe hit 60 by the weekend and the forecasters are calling for 70 next week! I find that hard to believe. In my heart, I truly do expect to ride in tights and booties all summer long; I just can't conceive of cycling without them.
I took advantage of nicer weather on Saturday (high of 45 with only 12 mph winds) to get in 83 miles with 4500' of climbing. It was supposed to be a 100 mile ride, but I was making progress slower than I needed to in order to keep to our "date night" plans. I pulled out the cross bike and headed north on gravel to Mount Vernon. Then bikepath through Gambier and some backroads over to Millwood. I diverted from my plan to explore gravel in the Walhonding area and instead stuck to Rte 715. I met a nice gent cyclist and we rode together through Nellie. I split off for some gravely adventures with a 300' steep climb up on to a ridge. For the next hour or so, I traversed the top of the ridge, dipping and climbing as the ridge went. It was hard going! I finally bailed on the ridge and dropped off back to 79. On the gravel descent I almost impaled myself on a road grater that was working the road that day. Then I immediately sucked on a huge cloud of dust as some local yocal went speeding past. And then almost became a hood ornament on some pickup truck that was speeding by right in the cloud of dust of the first car. There was enough of a strong breeze that the second car could have waited 10 seconds back. But no, it had to drive right down the middle of the road in zero visibility and I almost became the casualty. Some people are so stupid!
I got back out during my lunch hour on Tuesday for some fatbike hill repeats on Sugarloaf. I was on repeat #17 when, during the high speed descent, something went askew with the back half of the bike. The next result was my rear derailleur got torn off and caught in the wheel. The rear wheel locked up immediately and almost kicked me off the bike and onto the gravel pathway at high speed. I managed to escaped unscathed but the bike suffered major damage. It will need a new derailleur, derailleur hanger, shifting cable + housing, and have the rear wheel rebuilt with new spokes. Hope it isn't too expensive.
Speaking of trashing bikes, Eli managed to break one of his pedals off his little Gary Fisher single speed. I bought him a bling set of of pedals today and installed them. I think he can't wait to ride to school again tomorrow morning. I'm just hoping it isn't 24 degrees when we do so ... I almost froze this morning.
I got out tonight to straif the gravel roads on the cross bike in the darkness. I have to wait till Laura gets home from teaching at nearly 8pm. I wasn't dressed adequately as the temps dropped much faster than the web said they would. Frozen fingers and frozen toes. I'm not sure I'm digging the gravel rides at night as much as I used to. Maybe on a bike with wider tires like the fatbike, but I felt a little uncomfortable on the cross bike. Potholes are too hard to see. I can't see the texture of the gravel surface and thus am always unsure of the bike's motion. And it was just darn cold. But I did it.
I know I am rounding in to shape when I start to get my pop back. I might be tired at the end of a long ride, or trying to hang with a group of faster riders, and I'll encounter a situation, such as a big hill, which will require me to dig deep for that extra boost. Most of the time I don't have it and just have to slow down and suffer. But when I'm on form (at least by my modest standards) I can sometimes magically summon that extra burst and stick with the fast guy trying to ride off the front on the last big climb. That's my pop. And I think I finally found some tonight at the end of my ride when I seemed to rocket up that last steep climb on Berg St as I was coming back in to town. I found myself coming up the climb much faster than I had any business doing and the crest of the hill came toward me surprisingly quickly. I blew over the top and put the hammer down without the need to gasp for recovery. Yup, some pop. And just in time for my first race experience later this month. Now if I can just avoid destroying any more bikes.
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