Dirt Trails on Skinny Tires?

Earlier today I went on a "welcome back to roadcycling" ride with Fixie Pixie and the route she planned out had us going though some short stretches of dirt trails. FP was riding a Redline cyclocross bike with 30mm tires and I was riding the Moser with 23mm tires.





Now in the past I've been on rides with others where I've refused to go off road on narrow-tired bikes, thinking that surely this was unsafe - at least for someone like me. But for better or worse I've come to trust the Pixie and to agree to whatever she suggests. And so we went.







Riding off road on the Moserwas surprisingly nice. In some ways it even felt easier than the bikes I have with fat tires, and I am trying to understand why. Possibly it is because the Moser is fast and doesn't get bogged down as much. But also, one thing I've noticed about bikes with racy geometry is that they "like to stay upright" more so than relaxed bikes. Maybe this is specific to me and my style of riding, I don't really know yet. But whatever the bike lacks in tire size it seems to make up for by recovering easily in instances where other bikes I own seem more prone to wiping out.






Maybe it is not as much about the tire size as it is about the bike itself - with certain geometries feeling more stable both on and off road? I do not understand the topic well enough to speculate. But it's interesting to discover that I do not need my 42mm tires to have fun and feel safe on dirt trails. Being able to go anywhere on one fast bike is simple and liberating.

Taking the Lane with Elly Blue

Following the online presence of Portland-based bike activist Elly Blueover the past year, her perspective seemed so different from mine that it was as if she wrote from another planet. Critical Mass, relentless activism, political organising, and the accompanying stylistic elements - It's not my world and it's not my way of thinking. But when faced with swathes of difference, it often happens that the littlest suggestions of a common thread begin to stand out and attain significance. For me, the first of these was Elly's post My So-Called Out of Control Life- a non-bike-related essay thatexpressed my own unease with the hyper-confessional style of writing so popular with females of our generation. It was odd to read my own thoughts echoed in this piece, and to recognise our shared cultural references.



Shortly thereafter another common thread emerged: We both decided to quit facebook, independently and at around the same time. But what's more, is that right before I quit I noticed with amazement that Elly Blue appeared to be a "friend" of one of my real-world friends. How could they know each other? My very good friend L. has nothing to do with cycling, activism, or Portland. She does not read bicycle blogs (and, like most of my friends, has no idea that Lovely Bicycle exists). So how were they connected? I didn't feel comfortable asking at the time, but found myself paying closer attention to Elly Blue as a result of this discovery. When she announced the publication of Taking the Lane Volume 5: "Our Bodies Our Bikes," I bought one with intent to review it. She then included a couple of other volumes, so that I could get a better feel for the zine as a whole. I will be distributing those locally once I am done with them.



"A zine is like a small book or a large pamphlet, but with extra magic," explains the editor. And that it is. The compact format and eye-catching cover design make each zine inviting, pick-up-and-readable. My first thought: Is this a subversive tactic? Are these zines essentially vehicles for political agitation, which the attractive exterior and diminutive size are meant to ease the unseasoned reader into? But the Taking the Lane zines (a quarterly publication "about women and bicycling") are not quite that.



If I had to choose two words to describe my impression of the Taking the Lane zine, they would be "feminine" and "folkloric." Feminine because the various pieces of writing come across very strongly as being writtenby female authors andfor a female audience. And folkloric, because the tone of each piece is narrative and subjective. The authors do not attempt to speak for everyone, and they do not attempt to convince; they simply share their own experiences and thoughts - in a manner that is almost alarmingly unguarded in an era of self-conscious and self-defensive blog writing we are all growing increasingly used to. It is essentially lots of stories, told in lots of individual voices. In each zine, a theme emerges - and this emergence is organic, not forced. Reading a zine is like seeing the pattern reveal itself in a woven tapestry or piece of knitting, which comes back to the "feminine" feeling again. While I realise that associating femininity with folklore and traditional craft is loaded, nonetheless it is what went through my mind when reading thezines - I had the sense that I was listening to stories told in a knitting circle of contemporary-minded women.



"Our Bodies Our Bikes" (volume 5) contains snippets of personal experience as diverse as surviving cancer, worrying about body image, and having orgasms while cycling downhill. "Unsung Heros" (volume 3) contains some of the most compelling and disarming descriptions of bicycle activism I have ever read, precisely because it focuses on human experiences and not on the activism itself. "Sexy on the Inside" (volume 4) is an entire issue dedicated to the analysis of the bicycle dance troupe the Sprockettes that goes off on interesting tangents about the history of punk culture and various types of feminism. To explain the content of the zines in any more detail than this seems impossible, because by its very nature the content is resistant to summary. When there is no one succinct point, the writing is unskimmable, and the reader ends up reading everything. The message in Taking the Lane sinks in slowly and stays with you - even if you're not sure what that message is.



Whether these descriptions are making the zine seem good or bad, interesting or dull, I am not sure. It is a unique publication and reactions to it are bound to differ. Most if not all of the contributing writers seem to be from Portland, OR and the surrounding areas, which gives the zine a local feel, and as an East-coast resident I find myself not always sure that I "belong" in the audience. If this is something the editor wishes to change, she could invite writers from other regions to contribute. Based on the subject matter covered and on the glimpses we see of the writers' background, there is also a distinct sense of cycling being portrayed as a fringe subculture, which some readers may find difficult to relate to. As someone who feels passionate about cycling and bicycles, but whose style of dress, social life, and political views do not revolve around cycling, I sense that I am different from the zine's writers and intended audience. If this is not intentional, then perhaps some diversity on that end could be introduced into future issues as well. [Edited to add: East-coasters and non-cycling-subbaculturalists are welcome to email submission inquiries to "elly[at]takingthelane[dot]com"]



Publishing content in the form of a zine in itself signals that the content is of an "alternative" nature, and there are so many ways to play with that idea - which Elly very much does. How she develops the zine in the future depends mainly on what type, and how large of an audience she seeks.



As I read through the volumes of the Taking the Lane, the final question for me was whether these publications "needed" to exist in printed format. Can the same not be said online, in a blog? What would compel the reader to pay $3 per pamphlet when there is so much free content around covering many of the same topics? In the end my impression is that this writing would not in fact exist in an online format, simply because the internet discourages it. Whereas print was once a means to disseminate information as widely as possible, it can now function as a means of limiting our audience. In that context, the writers feel safe to express themselves in a manner they perhaps would not in a blog post, and the reader benefits from thoughtful, unself-conscious writing offering new perspectives on cycling, women and activism.



When I read Elly Blue's blog and twitter feed I disagree with her as often as I agree, but I am also fascinated with the way she expresses herself. Who knows, maybe one day we will meet and will either get along or not. Until then, I enjoy her writing online and in print.

Easton Maudit - Yardley Hastings - Easton Maudit

9 miles. Led by Barry. With Maureen and Eddie. Fine, but a chill wind. Some muddy fields.





First call was Easton Maudit church, and a wander round the graveyard, where Derek Nimmo is buried.

Then back to don boots and off along the path past this house

where the thatch is supported by some fine rustic poles - or trees. I like the orange tiles, as well!

We walked across the fields and gently uphill towards Horn Wood. In the wood we turned slightly right, and followed the path through a line of electricity pylons. Soon after these we turned left with the path, through some more woodland, until we reached the A428, which we crossed.

We followed the well-marked path (Milton Keynes Boundary Walk) south, then west until we reached the B5388 (Olney - Yardley Hastings. Here we turned right and walked along the road for about half a mile, past Pastures Farm.

The hollow in this tree looked like an ideal place for someone half our size.

Right, everyone, snack-break over!

When we reached a track to the left we climbed one of the few stiles and walked across a field - a notice warned us of low-flying model aircraft, but there were none around today.

We passed another Pastures Farm over to the right, and the path led us towards Yardley Hastings.

The first structure we saw was this one. I've discovered that it's a flood storage reservoir - quite empty at the moment.

There is a stream of sorts in the village, with bridges over it to lots of the houses. The village is very attractive, with its millenium village sign, list of residents in 2000, and human sundial.

















































There's a village shop, getting into seasonal mode

We walked through the village, past the church (St Andrews) .

The path we took goes to the right, just before a bridge at the end of the village, and continues to the right of the stream - in a deep ditch - for some distance.

When this path meets another one, you turn right (east) and go uphill gradually, crossing a minor road, and arrive back in Easton Maudit.

Almost Ready!

Anyone remember that flood that happened way back in 2006? There was a little damage to some areas of the park, with roads, trails and even whole campgrounds being damaged or disappearing entirely. The lower part of the Glacier Basin trail was one area that was heavily affected by the flooding, and for the last few years NPS trail crews along with hundreds of volunteers have been working almost nonstop on the new re-route of the trail.
Now to the fun part...
The first mile of the new trail is almost ready to be opened! Trail crews are working on the finishing touches like some beautiful bridges to keep your feet dry crossing creeks, and rock walls that not only look cool but actually add to the stability of the trail. They should have the trail open soon, although the actual opening date has not been set, so until they actually open it please respect the closed area so crews can work uninterrupted to get projects finished. For now enjoy some of these photos that rangers were able to take during our sneak preview the other day. Stop by the White River ranger station for the all the latest information on the Glacier Basin trail, or any other trail for that matter.
If you happen to come across a trail crew out working be sure to thank them for all the hard work they do on our many miles of trails here at Mount Rainier.
As for conditions on the upper mountain these days everything is in spectacular condition. Many groups have been out climbing and skiing all over the mountain from Ptarmigan and Liberty Ridges to the standards such as the DC and Emmons. All reports have been of excellent conditions. The sun has been out, winds have been mild, and fun is being had all over, so check out some of the new route updates get your gear together and come climb with us!

Ice tinkering 12.11.11

The ice bouldering conditions I found on Sunday 12/11/11

I wasn't sure there would be any ice and I was partnerless, but being an optimist I pack up my tools and crampons and decided to head out and see if I could find anything "climbable". I made my way to an area in the Laurel Highlands that is around 2650' in elevation figuring that as all the lower stuff was sure to be a wash. I drove as far I could until the icy roads and steep inclines would've trapped me for sure. It was a pleasant day with the temps in the mid 20's to 30 degrees and the sun shining. I ended up hiking about a mile down the the icy road to the crag slipping and sliding my way down the hill.

Happy to find ice and enjoy the colder weather.

The ice I found was a little delaminated with running water in some areas, but was tall enough and stable enough that I could get some early season mixed training in. What the ice lacked in size it surely made up for in fun! I was able to traverse several hundred yards covering both ice runnels and rock. The ice varied in thickness from relatively thin (enough to hold body weight) to some decent swing and sticks. It was nice to see ice again. The temps up high have been cold since my visit and should still be good. I plan to visit again this week for some more early season ice bouldering.

After ice bouldering I went to check other areas.

Here's the best I found. Still has a ways to go, but winter

is almost here!

You Ride a Bike, Don't You?

I was headed toward the subway platform, lost in thought, when a construction worker shouted this to me as he walked past - rhetorically and with a good-natured smile, almost as if in greeting."You ride a bike, don't you!"



For a moment I wondered how he knew. I do not carry a bicycle helmet around. Neither do I have a U-Lock sticking out of my back pocket. Nor do I wear t-shirts with pictures of bicycles or bicycle slogans on them. And then I remembered: I was "wearing" a wheelset. A full wheelset, with tires attached. I was bringing the wheels to Framingham - an hour long trip on subway and commuter rail - and rigged up a system inspired by carrying my skates around.





Having tied the wheels together with a rope, I then slung them over my left shoulder as if the wheels were a handbag and the rope was a shoulder strap. It was surprisingly comfortable and I could hardly feel the weight, which is why I forgot about the wheels when the stranger addressed me.



Something similar happened yesterday, when I wrangled a floor pump into my handbag and walked to my art studio with 1/3 of the large, orange pump sticking out. When I stopped for a coffee on the way, the person behind me in line startled me by saying "That's quite a pump you got there!" Once I realised what he meant, I considered explaining that my hand-held pump does not fit Shrader valves. But thankfully it was my turn to order coffee just then and the person was spared that narrative.



What is the most unusual thing you've carried off the bike that distinguished you as a cyclist?

Silver Sugar Bowl

All of the silver dishes belonged to my mom before she married my dad. She said they were given to her my a friend of her dads when she was a teenager.

Where I Was

May 1979. I can still feel the freezing cold of the water as I walked through the stream to the dunes. The warmth of the sun and the chill of the morning breeze. The quietness broken only by the occasional laughter and voices of other visitors. It was a time of change. One stage of life ending and another beginning. A return to civilian life after 9 1/2 years in the Navy.

I purchased a postcard at the gift shop that I still have posted on the bulletin board next to my computer. It included a few words written by Ann Zwinger ". . . even in winter there is the promise of spring. . . The white of snow becomes the white of summer clouds. . . part of each season is contained in every other."

Anyone care to venture a guess as to where this picture was taken? A little hint, western United States ;-)

Update May 21, .. 11:00 a.m

Craig Manson of Geneablogie fame has correctly identified the above scene as the Great Sand Dunes National Park & Preserve. Located in the southwest corner of Colorado, it is an amazing area. It's on my list of places to visit, again. Someday.

Some incredibly nice photographs:
http://www.nps.gov/archive/grsa/resources/photos_dunes.htm

Children's artwork inspired by the dunes:
http://www.nps.gov/archive/grsa/artwork.htm

Links to more photographs:
http://www.nps.gov/archive/grsa/resources/photos.htm

There are a lot of other nice websites, just do a search for Great Sand Dunes...

Enjoying the Unexpected

This post, "Enjoying the Unexpected", was written for my blogspot blog called The Transplantable Rose by Annie in Austin.

Sometimes the things you plant surprise you in good ways - that's what happened here a few times this week. The temperatures are now in the high 80's, even the late iris are almost done and the phlox foliage is about 8" tall, so the season should be early summer in this part of the long fence bed. Look who just showed up-
This is a 'Pink Pride' daffodil, one of a dozen bulbs planted last fall. The bulbs made foliage but I'd given up hope of seeing a bloom.



My daughter and son-in-law had a mini-rose sent to me last year for Mothers Day - they didn't get a choice of color but knew it would be pretty. The shipment had a rough ride from the organic grower in California but the rose recovered enough to make a couple of buds, in a pale peach color.

Because of last summers flooding rain I kept the mini-rose in a container so it wouldn't drown. It didn't bloom again but branched out and then when cold weather came it lost all its leaves. I kept it in the pot, bringing it in the garage whenever we dipped below freezing.






The rose leafed out early this spring and I planted it near the blue scabiosa and the coppery orange ranunculus. Here's the first rose - not a pale peach, but a color like the inside of a melon, which blends perfectly in this border!

I wonder if the more intense color is a response to more heat and sunlight? I don't see any other buds but the whole plant seems to have more substance and vigor since it left the container. Maybe it will take a little longer for this little rose to settle in and display its true color.

You've already seen the true color of the Schlumbergera/Thanksgiving cactuses - they all bloomed in the breakfast window last winter. Once the chance of frost was low, I moved three of them out to the veranda for the summer. All three plants made another set of buds which are now opening. Very unexpected!


Larkspur is one of my favorite annuals - one reason I love the meadow at Zanthan Gardens. I bought double lilac larkspur seeds in fall .. after we had the long fence bed started, and threw them around. For three springs they've sprouted and grown, and usually bloomed, but the flowers in Central Austin usually bloom a few weeks earlier than mine here in NW Austin. Larkspur like air and sun so last year's wet spring made their flowering season very short. The double lilac larkspur are blooming now and have reached new heights - I'm 5'6" on a good day and my larkspur are taller than I am. Having larkspur the size of delphiniums was a good surprise for me!

The next unexpected thing was what I ate for lunch today...a radish sandwich. I pulled a few radishes and washed them, then cut them up. I tasted a couple of slices and found them crisp with a good bite.

Next I buttered whole wheat toast, adding layers of thinly sliced radish and a little romaine lettuce. The sandwich was delicious, crunchy but mellow - not hot. The unexpected part isn't that the sandwich tasted good. The unexpected part is that I might never have tried this if another garden blogger, Yolanda Elizabet in Holland, hadn't described her lunch a few weeks ago. Thank you, Yolanda!


Have you ever planted a seed from an apple or orange or the pit from a cherry or peach? Garden experts will tell you not to bother doing this when starting the home orchard - to always buy a named tree instead.
But my nephew and his parents weren't planning a home orchard a few years ago - they just wanted to find out if something special could happen. Grandma had ordered a box of luscious Harry & David peaches for the whole family and after enjoying the fruit Jake and his mom & dad ceremoniously planted the peach pit in the back yard. The peach seed sprouted and grew and was watched over. Last year it was swaddled in net to protect it from the Seventeen Year cicadas.

Now in its 3rd Spring, the peach is taller than Jake's Dad, and it has chosen to bless my sister's family with a cloud of pink blossoms.
My nephew is justly proud of starting the tree and I'm impressed that my family believed in the power of a seed. Thanks for letting me use your photos, Jake! Whether or not this particular family tree ever bears edible peaches, it's a fine thing to see after a long hard Chicago winter.

This post, "Enjoying the Unexpected", was written for my blogspot blog called The Transplantable Rose by Annie in Austin.

I know what you did last summer

Nasturtium.

I've mentioned before that we grew some edible flowers, Sakata Sweet melons, and Tigger melons last year.

Here are a few of the other things we tried for the first time.


Plum Granny.
Supposed to be an heirloom "pocket" melon. (Somewhere between the size of a golf ball and a clementine.) I read that they were grown primarily for scent. They're so bland as to be inedible. They did smell great, but weren't as strong as I'd hoped. Nothing approaching the scent level of daffodils, say. It may vary with growing conditions but I doubt I'll try them again. Some little critters definitely like to eat them -- I think it was the most munched-on thing in the garden.


Japanese eggplant.
We liked these much better than traditional eggplants. They seemed less likely to grow bitter, and were more versatile for cooking just because of their size. We'll definitely grow these again.


Triamble squash.
A winter squash. I ordered these seeds purely based on the look of the pictures, which were idealized to say the least. Still, it's an interesting looking vegetable. But hard, hard, hard to cut. It tastes good, and keeps forever, but I really should have realized that ten-pound squashes were a little much for two people.


Top view.


Profile view.
These were really picked too soon. (The stem should be dry first.)

I couldn't find a picture, but we also grew lemon cucumbers. I was under the impression that they had a lemony taste, but the name just refers to the size (and color, somewhat). They tasted good enough, but did get bitter sometimes. Plus they have tiny hairs or spines that were difficult to rub off. And they didn't keep well at all -- one day, tops. So, back to white cucumbers for me.

If last year was the year of melon experimentation, this will be the year of the squash! More on that later.

Leavenworth Trip ...

Adam and I did a three day weekend in the Leavenworth area finishing with helping out Matt with field trip on Sunday.

We took a midday ride out on Friday for some cragging at Clem's Holler. Arrived around Noon and headed up the steep trail. We had lofty goals of climbing some nice sport climbs, but decided to warm up on the first two pitches of Playin' Possum. Doing only the first two pitches keeps it at a reasonable 5.8 instead of the .10a rating it has for continuing onto the third pitch. I led the first pitch, and Adam led the second. While the climbing was not particularly difficult, my head wasn't totally in the lead, and I had to hang a bit at one point (mostly to rest my feet) before continuing upward. After completing the climb, I was not exactly ready to tackle the harder projects, so Adam and I went searching for Arselips and Elbows (5.8) a 14" wide top rope crack.

According to the book, Arselips is "up and left" of The Hatchet. We found it to be generally left, and that dropping down into a meadow was a more sane way of reaching said climb. We first attempted with some exposed moves on grassy ledges before dropping to the meadow and coming back up. I'm pretty sure we were mostly following goat trails. The terrain was sometimes steep, and had a thick coating of ponderosa needles on it adding to the slippery factor. Plenty of sticker bushes in the area too. You have to persevere to get to this climb. Once there, we had an easy hike up to the bolts to set up a top rope. Then it was time for the groveling to begin.

Looking up from the base

The opening moves were on the face while stepping on boulders to gain the crack. Once at the top foothold on the outside, it was time to move in. I found the chicken wing very secure, but it took a fair amount of trial and error to get some sort of secure leg into the crack. The left side of the crack is also a loose corner, with a small finger crack, but I did not feel too comfortable grabbing on it as I was afraid to pull it off. Inside the crack it was narrow, and a deep breath could mostly keep my in my place. I realized after some struggling that I had to exhale to make moving up easier. In my first attempt, I managed to gain the crack and move a few centimeters off the outside rock before needing my left foot to do something. I took a rest while Adam gave it a shot.

About to leave the outside world

Adam gave the crack a try and made no further progress than I did. He tried it first in his trail runners figuring that would give him an advantage. After his attempt, he decided his next attempt would be with rock shoes. I gave it a second go with a result of getting about six inches higher than my previous attempt. I was able to successfully use my left arm and leg in the attempt, but found the upward progress too much of a struggle to continue further. Adam gave it one last try and it looked something like this:

He's in there

After getting to roughly the same height I did, Adam melted out of the crack and I lowered him to the ground. We both agreed that that was the most effort we have ever put forth to move two inches! I thought I could get up any 5.8 in Leavenworth on top rope. Apparently, this climb proved me wrong. After our struggles, we called it a day and headed back to the car. Our sport climbing objectives at Clem's Holler could wait for another day.

We awoke late (8am) on Saturday, and had breakfast in camp. By the time we packed up camp, it was about to rain and when we arrived at parking for our intended destination for the day (Peek-a-Boo Tower) there was a light rain. Looking west made us concerned so we drove to the mouth of the canyon hoping for better weather. We stopped in the Snow Creek parking lot and by the time we rolled out of there, it was raining as well. So we headed to Peshastin again.

It appeared that others had the same idea when it started to rain in Leavenworth, and many small parties of climbers dashed out of the parking lot to get to climbs quickly. We were in no rush and decided to climb Windward which we figured no one was running to. When we got there, I was not too enthused about leading it and we decided to walk around to see if we could get on something else. When we arrived at Dinosaur, and saw no one on Potholes, we jumped on it. Adam had me lead the first (5.8) pitch and he said he would decide at the belay about leading the second (5.7) pitch. I personally have always found the second pitch harder, but that may just be me. No real surprised on Potholes except for me having more difficulty this year with the crux of the first pitch. And Adam getting a good chuckle from watching me struggle with the final moves to the anchor. We rapped off and headed to Grand Central Tower to climb the West Face.

Adam past the first bulge on Potholes second pitch

It was nice to finally lead the West Face and not have any trouble on it. Well, no trouble climbing it. There was a party that was off route on Nirvana Ridge that kept raining sand down onto us. It does not make for a comforting lead. Adam followed, and even got hit by a slightly bigger rock on the way up. We rapped off to find the wind had died off and it was downright warm out. We decided the clouds cleared enough to the west to try the Icicle again.

We drove back and watched the outside temp drop from 68°F to around 60°F by the mouth of the Icicle. We stopped there to head to Surf City to climb a few moderate cracks. We started on Paydirt, a nice 5.7 finger crack that I would revisit. I was a bit too tentative on the lead on this one, and I am not sure why. (Must have been the theme for the weekend.) I had a minor slip and even opted not to place gear at one point. Hopefully I can revisit that one with a better head.

Stepping into the finger crack

Adam then led Blunt Instruments which was one of those cracks that does not really require crack climbing technique. It was a bit dirty at the top and also finished with a slab like Paydirt did. (Although the Paydirt slab was a bit more runout.)

After that I attempted to lead another route there called Undertoe. I couldn't get a decent first piece in and so we called it a day. This time we were at The Mountaineers group campsite and had a feast. Ben Evans showed up and cooked a huge pan of bacon chorizo paella.

Sunday I was pretty spent from the weekend (and sleeping on a Z-Rest) that I had the student I was with lead all pitches on Midway. I did not climb well, and even used a piton as a foot hold before attaining Jello Tower. It was nice to sleep in a bed last night.

Sunset

Lost Lake, Found Courage

Yesterday I went on a stunningly beautiful ride - a woodsy countryside loop with the fabled Lost Lake as its midpoint attraction. I'd been hearing about Lost Lake for some time, but could not quite picture what was being described. They said the road around the lake consists of dramatic "rollers" (short, steep hills) that keep coming at you until you don't know which way is up and which way is down. "There is a section where you will be braking uphill, you'll see!" explained theBlayleys gleefully.




After that sort of description, I did not imagine my first ride to the lake taking place on a day with more snow than we'd experienced all winter prior. But that is exactly what transpired.






You know how sometimes you try so hard to avoid something you're scared of, only to end up doing that exact thing? That more or less describes my weekend. On Saturday morning I awoke to a downpour washing away the snow from previous days. The weather report said that the rain would end by mid-day, and that the temperature would rise to mid-50s. I believed it, and set out for a quick ride to Lexington at noon even though it was still drizzling. A few miles in, the drizzle became a downpour again. Then the temperature started to drop instead of rising. And as I proceeded North on the Minuteman Trail, I began to encounter stretches of snow and ice. It was supposed to all have been gone by now, and it was supposed to be warm! But, well, it wasn't. And since I was already en route and soaked, I kept going.





The first couple of times I encountered snow on the path, I got off the bike and walked. But as the stretches kept coming and I got increasingly wet and cold, annoyance took over and I began riding through them - first cautiously, then more brazenly. My narrow tires cut through the slush and cracked the weak ice. The thicker snow was trickier, but I didn't panic and got through it. Before I knew it, I was riding through the very conditions I'd been avoiding all winter. Only toward the very end did the path become completely impassable, and I walked ankle deep in wet snow as freezing rain poured relentlessly.





Soaking wet head to toe, I finally limped inside the Ride Studio Cafe. They took one look at me and brought out space heaters and towels. I removed as much of what I was wearing as was acceptable and sat there shivering and drying my clothes, swearing at the weather.



After some coffee and quality time with the space heaters, my mood improved. Later that afternoon the weather indeed cleared up, and the sun even came out. When I was finally dry enough to ride home, most of the snow on the trail had melted - which made it logical to conclude that I'd be fine doing the Sunday ride the next morning, since surely the roads would be entirely clear by then.






What I failed to account for, is that the Sunday ride to Lost Lake would take us north. And in the North it's, you know, colder and consequently the snow takes longer to melt. Had I realised this in advance, I probably would not have gone. But then I would have missed out on some truly magical scenery and an extremely fun ride. The roads were not bad, but there was occasional slush and ice, and quite a bit of sand. Had I not gone on that hellish short ride alone the previous day, these road conditions at group-ride speed would have been out of my comfort zone. But because I did, I was now (just barely) okay with it. Very cautious on downhills, but otherwise fine.







There were four of us (Pamela, Dena, Emily and myself).We rode at a comfortable pace, the temperature was not too bad, and the scenery was just unreal - endless winding roads through snow-covered fields and pine trees, almost like a staged scene from some winter sporting good catalogue. Except of course it was March, and we were not cross-country skiing but riding bikes.






By the time we got to Lost Lake, I was so full of the day's impressions that I'd forgotten all about its roller-coaster reputation and did not remember until I was already doing the loop around the lake. I have to say it wasn't scary at all, just really exciting. The hills are so steep and short, that after you climb the first one there is really no need to do any work - you just steer the bike and hang on. The first downhill is so fast that you end up coasting all the way up the next hill and then it's downhill again, repeated maybe half a dozen times. And yes it's true that there is one particular section where you have to go leftish on an uphill - but you're flying up that hill so fast that you have to brake in order to make the turn.Fascinating.




I think this ride will stand out in my memory for a long time, not only because of how beautiful it was, but because I was less focused than usual on the aspects I found challenging or scary. I just kind of went with it, relaxed and enjoyed it. I am grateful to have experienced a winter landscape this perfect, and glad that fear did not stand in the way.