Ride # 7: Cold is a Friend of Clarity

January 28, 2014

Today was the test. A work-from-home Tuesday. Plenty of time to squeeze in an afternoon ride. But the Polar Vortex has returned! 22.3 degrees (-5 c)! It's COLD outside! There's a wind chill factor. Insanity! Who would ride in such temperatures?!

That is the question, isn't it? What moron would ... what dingbat would ... would nut case would ... RIDE when it's so freaking cold outside?!

Sigh. Common sense and popular opinion were against me. I knew that. I looked at the pile of garb I had to don; and when it was on, I looked at myself in the mirror and thought "Really?" Well, YES. Really. Why not?

So I rode. And it was, in a word, Awesome. Truly. At many points, I was in awe.

On days like this, when the elements challenge but when the mind and spirit responds with Un Grand Abrazo (a giant embrace), you experience something wonderful. You experience a rare physical vitality, you realize places of reserve that you didn't know you had. The cold is your friend! The sharp, crisp, clarity of it all startles! Take note!

At one point, haaaa-rrrucking and spitting out blasts of spit and mucus, I realized that I could inhale through my nose! Remarkable! The nose-to-lung passageway was clear! I drank in air like it was a purifying agent of goodness. Huge nasal inhales. Huge oral exhales. Racing across a snow crusted landscape, craggy oaks & insouciant white pine trees looking on, I belted it out in moose-like blasts of riddance and expectoration. Be gone, bile and choler!

Then, a short way into a modest Sholan Loop, on a whim I decided to make a dash for the Mont Vonchusett. Zen clobber! Ha! Getting to base camp is all uphill. Perfect. Climbing keeps you warm. And climbing these hill town roads through gaunt woods with nary a car for long stretches of time is riveting! Invigorating! You forget how cold it is!

In the gathering gray of a Tuesday afternoon, 3:00 o'clock or so, I reached the Mount Wachusett Visitor Center entrance. Seemed a little bleak.

Bienvenue! 

I decided to continue through the open gate, down the short slope that led around the empty guard shack and then started climbing until ...

End of the Road Looking Back 

The denouement. The snowy end of the road.

Stymied, 18 Degrees (-7 c) to Boot

There was nothing to do but hold a colloquy with the Crux and figure out what to do.

Weighty Decisions Being Made

Reason prevailed. Turn back. It was not a hard conclusion to reach. It was getting late and I knew it would be a cold run back. It was. For a period of time coming down the high hills, my right hand turned fiery cold, painful to use even. Fuck! But I couldn't not use it - it worked the rear gears and the rear brake. Then, oddly, at a certain point it occurred to me that it wasn't cold anymore.

It didn't matter. Racing back at urgent speed to beat the coming dusk, I had one thing in mind. DINNER.

Lamb Liver and Rasputin Stout

There are probably many ways of preparing lamb liver but I opted for dusting it liberally with garam masala spice rub, salt and pepper.

Power Food

Then I sliced it up and fried it in the pan in which I'd fried thickly-sliced onions dusted with turmeric powder. And used a separate skillet to saute up a batch of sliced crimini mushrooms with garlic. This is power food. Bless the lamb. Bless the onion. Bless the mushrooms. May their energy live on in me!

Sauteed lamb liver with turmeric onions
mushrooms with garlic & parsley

Ride Stats: 22.09 (35 k), 12 mph, an hour and fifty-five minutes more or less. It was 22.3 (-5 c) degrees when I left and 17.8 (-7 c) when I got back.

Postscript Notes: One of the coldest rides I've ever done. The paper bag was of paramount importance. I dressed well. I actually had seven layers on my upper body. I was never really cold except my hand once as noted and then, within 5 miles or so of home, my feet got cold. But that was it. Saw no road kill. Did see robins. The sun was again tucked in gray gauze. The landscape was gritty and stark and so were the roads. I loved it.