Ride # 8: In the Sunshine

January 30, 2014

A terrific afternoon. January in Massachusetts can be so beautiful! The crisp clear blue sky, the bright sun, the dryness. Perfect for cycling!

So I managed ride # 8. This has to be a personal January record. It's because of the Crux Elite. Winter road conditions pose no anxiety or danger with the Crux. Such a stalwart & responsive instrument. I'm free to ride in conditions that I would never ride in with my road bike. And now I know that I can handle seriously cold temperatures too.

Today's ride, as sweet as it was, was crimped by the need to get back by a certain time. Work deadlines. And I was delayed getting started when I discovered my rear wheel was flat. I think I know when that happened on the last ride, I nailed a pot hole pretty good, though I made it home without a problem. But today the rear wheel was flat so I had to waste time searching for the correct size spare tube (I thought I had several but I only scared up one), then spent time changing the thing. So I knew getting underway that there'd be no spontaneous decisions to, for example, storm up to the New Hampshire border and try to eke out 30 miles before it got dark. Not today.

But the good thing about that was that I rode with purpose. Lemonstar to Shirley to Lunenburg and back. Pedaling hard most of the way. No time to stop for photos. Flat out.

Bird sightings? A hawk and a crow jousting (the hawk seemed to be harassing the crow, odd that). Then a hairy woodpecker come to light on a teenage hardwood on Benjamin Rd. No road kill.

Ride Stats: 18.82 miles (29k), 13.8 mph; approximately 1H 28M in the saddle. Wasn't nearly as cold today: upper 30s at departure and 30 degrees when I got back.

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.

Winter Riding

The Crux Elite has changed my biking paradigm. Winter riding is now a reality. Not a Concept, a Reality. And it's all because of the Crux. I'm scrapping its nickname "Crust" because it is more than the crust - it is the body and soul, the Totality of Cycle. It is, indeed, the crux of the matter and an elite performer in the Meander of Road and Path.

Today, the axis of perception shifted. Before setting out on ride # 6, winter riding was an adversary, an impediment, an inconvenience. I engaged it with reluctant but determined heart.

Then somewhere along the way, maybe a third of the way into the ride, speeding across a frozen landscape on salt-whitened tarmac, crows flapping & cawing above and not a car to be seen, it hit me - winter riding is fantastic! I LIKE it, even though I'm not supposed to. It's dangerous and arduous. The elements are enemies, the cold a curse. So it's said. Pivoting on opinion, in a flash I saw it all differently. It was not a burden, it was a gift! Winter riding reminds you that you are alive!

Dress properly. That's the key. And have the right bike too. Only a cross bike or a mountain bike will do. Cold? Layers. Wet? Position a plastic shopping bag inside your tights across your butt. Windy? Wear a wind breaker. A brown paper shopping bag between jerseys shields the chest. And then ride safely, consciously, defensively, reverently.

Winter Riding,  Be Alive!

Ride # 6: The Yin and Yang of It

January 26, 2014, 23 Degrees F

If you looked out the window or walked to the end of the sidewalk and looked at our street (ice covered, snowy, treacherous), and if you based your assessment of over all road conditions on it alone, you would conclude that attempting to ride today would be silly, even stupid. Luckily for me, I'd gone out earlier and knew better. We'd driven over to Groton to retrieve the year's first CSA meat & poultry allotment (we got a whole frozen turkey! I tried not to read too much into that). On the way to and from, I studied the roads and determined that they were better than passable. They were ride-able.

Last night's snow was a mere dusting, not more than a quarter inch, and because it was so cold (IS so cold), the snow is powdery and on the move. Icy wind gusts blow it all over. This is particularly noticeable when you come to an open stretch in the road, perhaps a stretch between two fields; in those places the snow has drifted across the road and poses a hazard for cars and bikes alike. All of the roads have narrowed somewhat; the shoulder reduced to sand and road debris now, and an icy snow crust edges that. Some roads are narrower than others.

The key, I realized, would be to stick to the least traveled roads, and wait until midday or later to go.

So that's what I did. Though not without a bravura display of yipping. Should I really try to ride in this cold? What if I go and it sucks and I have to slink home after 15 minutes? Should I stay home, swaddle myself in warm, loose-hanging clothing, and work on the novel? Eat an early lunch and an early dinner? Or should I actually gear up and give it a go? Maybe tool around the neighborhood a little just to test things out?

By 12:30, I couldn't stand it. I had to ride so I layered up and got on with it. Temperature at departure? 23.6 F (-4.6 C).

But the sun was out. The sky was bright blue. Remnant snow on the slate roof melted and dripped from the eaves. The sun enveloped the entire landscape in shine and brio. And as soon as I turned off my street and onto rt. 13, I KNEW I had made the right decision. The road was mostly dry. Actually, it was parched white with salt, and there was a lot of sand and I could tell there would be wet spots but for the most part it was, as I'd hoped, completely okay.

I crossed rt.2 and powered my way up the hill, under the train tracks, through the two lights, and out the other side, into North Lemonstar and on to Lunenburg. Little traveled back roads. No traffic. Me and the blue sky, my shadow proceeding me, leading me. The sun. Huge old bare oaks etched black against against white. Crow caw. An alarm of blue jays from a copse of hardwoods. Robins. The robins must be adapting to the changing climate. Growing up, we began looking for the first robins to return from the south in late March; we took it as a sign of spring's arrival when the first robins were spotted. Now? I've seen them in bunches these last three rides.

Shad at the Midpoint of Ride # 6
Shirley Center, Town Hall

When I reached Shirley Center, about 50 minutes in, I pulled over and called ND to let her know that I'd be out longer than I'd initially said. When I'd set out, I'd told her I'd be gone maybe an hour (even then, I was doubting the conditions and my staying power). It was going to be longer than that. At the moment I snapped the above pic, I figured I would ride another hour, maybe more. Then I happened to look in the other direction, to the west where the sun was and the direction in which I'd be riding home. And I noticed that the sun was slowly being consumed by the onset of a massive gun metal gray cloud bank.

The Dimming in the West

It was the yin yang moment. The entire ride up until this moment had been sun-blessed, blue skied. As soon as I turned and looked toward the west, the temperament of the ride morphed from light and warm to ominous and chilled. As soon as I was underway, I noticed the cold coming on. The sun had provided the warmth of optimism. The gauzy Shroud of Grim tested one's mettle. I passed the test. I rode strong, dauntless, straight into the head wind that came driving from the west.

When I got home, the temperature was 20 degrees. And I was still warm enough, today's layers were well chosen and served me well. Even my hands were warm. I'd layered with elan and sagacity.

Ride Stats: 21.9 miles (35 k), 12.6 mph, about an hour and forty minutes in the saddle. 147.6 lbs this morning.

Ride # 5: Layer Up

January 25, 2014

I had no intentions of riding today. A Saturday at the end of January, it didn't even register as a possibility. The forecast was for snow. But it didn't snow. Not when they said it would. And then the temperature topped 34 degrees (1.1 C). It was a little after noon. I was home and had all afternoon which really, for winter riding, was like having all the time in the world. A couple of hours ransacking the hills in almost-freezing gray shroud, why not?

So I layered up, saddled up, and set out eagerly, in a good humor.

Lucas Rd, Sterling, MA

Fantastic. In the craw of winter. Like a crow, I steal a morsel from the road. I saw several crows en route and enjoyed their caw croak. I saw blue jays and robins. Steel gray smoke-hued cloud frowns. I saw black birds I couldn't identify. And I was ever mindful of the road, the treacherous joyous sandy road of Forward.

I think that because the forecast had been for snow, a lot of people stayed off the roads. I encountered few cars. Always a good thing. But there is a spookiness about the raw winter landscape that, in the absence of other people, seems almost menacing. It's a stark and cranky place with ghosts whispering across hundreds of years of Januaries.

Mirick Rd, Princeton, MA

Today, brisk wind. Gusts in the treetops. Gusts across the road. The tree trunk silhouette black against the crusted snow. I think that at a certain point on every ride you realize what you're actually doing, you grasp where you actually are. You are hurtling along hilly winter countryside roads on a bicycle. And it amazes you! It amazes me. Every time.

Shad Style in Amazement

Of course, the only way to ride in the winter is to ... ride in the winter. I feel silly sometimes, all costumed-up in layers, pedaling roads in the crappiest conditions, how absurd! Yet in the end, absurdity is part of the Big Embrace. Best of all when we conduct our absurdity with grace. And mindfulness.

Frozen Gnomic Flow and the Grace of Troll
January 25, 2014

From a training perspective, the best part of today was getting out there and experiencing a hint of what the Rasputitsa might present. Cold, bluster, treachery, the indifference of sand. No mud, but a few patches of frozen road sludge unavoidable, the Crux handled it all superbly, this bike is fine! I'll get a new rear tire for the Big R in April. And a new chain. Nearing a thousand miles on the present one.

Ride Stats: 23.08 (37k), 12.4 mph, an hour and fifty minutes. 33.3 degrees when I left (an auspicious number! I enthused myself), 35.2 degrees (1.6 C) when I got back. Maintained good humor the entire ride, felt strong on the hills.

Ride # 4: Talking Myself Into It

January 20, 2014

I had to talk myself into today's ride. Today was supposed to be about the after-glow of the Patriot's victory in the AFC Championship Game against Denver, a day to sleep in, have a leisurely breakfast with lots of coffee and toast, and enjoy the sports pages. Argh! Somehow the Patriots didn't get the memo and LOST and in the wake of that debacle yesterday afternoon, I ate more lamb than I should have, and drank freely of the big Chimay Ales in the fridge, and stayed up late last night scribbling gibberish in my notebook.

So that today I was more than a bit fuzzy & foggy when I woke. Parched. Dehydrated. And fatter. I forgot to mention that Saturday night we had a dinner party of epic proportions, 13 of us in total, a giant turkey, gratins of cheesy potatoes, splashing flagons, a wheel of Brie baked in a brioche, gooey spinach artichoke dip, bread, brownies and cake. I ate like a stevedore. Then re-visited my gluttony yesterday with football, more Belgian ale, a leg of lamb, braised cabbage with apples, a spinach salad heaped with hard boiled eggs, feta cheese, red onions, and a bath of glistening olive oil. A debauch of wonder! Which lead directly to the scale this morning and a 3+ lb weight gain; 149.9 lbs. A chicken wing shy of 150.

But the dripping eaves alerted me to the fact that something mild was going on outside. When I went out to run an errand shortly after noon, I could see that the roads were by and large dry, even though we had 4 inches of snow just two days ago. They were ride-able.

I told myself that I had to ride. Conditions permitted it. Seize every opportunity, no matter how small. Ride for 30 minutes. 45 minutes. Ride around the neighborhood like a criterion. But ride when the chance is there. So I did. And it ended up being excellent, though I was not strong. The roads were not a problem, it was a holiday Monday afternoon so there were few cars out; I managed a 90 minute ride in the hills, an unexpected Sholan Loop.

Ride stats: 16.54 miles (25k), about 90 minutes (the potential for ice slow the pace), 12.1 mph. 40 degrees when I got home.

Ride # 3: Layers

The key to winter riding is layering. If you assemble the correct layers for the conditions, then you won't be cold or wet. Over the years I've accumulated a rag box of various jerseys, tights, gloves, balaclavas, etc., so that I don't often lack the proper attire. Sometimes I make the wrong choices for the ride but that hasn't happened lately.

Today, for example, it was cold, just around freezing, so I knew I needed warm upper body garments. Not a day to worry about aerodynamics. So I opted for a poly-prop long underwear top, a synthetic fiber turtleneck, an L.L. Bean fleece shirt/sweatshirt, a Pearl Izumi zip-up cold-weather warm-up jacket, and a bright orange wind breaker shell. In between the turtle neck and the fleece shirt I slipped a thick brown paper bag. Cold? What cold? I sweated. Not too much, just enough. I never chilled down.

On the bottom half, I wore poly-prop long underwear, a pair of bike shorts, and heavy weight tights over all. I spread a plastic shopping bag over my ass between the tights and riding shorts; lacking a fender on the bike, this protective action - sort of like a plastic bag diaper - works fairly well keeping the butt dry. Warm socks and booties. Two pair of gloves; a liner glove inside a neon green reflective cold weather full-fingered cycling glove.

Clothing and warmth isn't the obstacle to winter riding. Road conditions are. And weather. I am yet to assemble the proper gear for rain. I doubt I will. To date, I've drawn the line at riding in rain (though once in a while I've been caught in a summer downpour and not regretted it). And if the roads are too wet or too icy or too snow-covered, that's a deterrent. Riding on bad roads around here, with all the car traffic, is just too dangerous.

Now, if the roads are in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont and the day is April 19th, well, that's another story. In fact, that's the story at which we're now actively working towards arriving.

Layers, Ride # 3, Pano-Vision