Icy roads ride report

I have belly ached and moaned this winter whenever road conditions got icy or slippery enough to prevent me from riding. That's because until about a month ago, I didn't have any tires available to me other than skinny road ones. And so I fell down a lot on the ice.

But, about a month ago, I adopted an abandoned mountain bike. It had been left unchained behind my place of employment, by the dumpsters. We brought it in and waited for about three weeks for somebody to come inquire about it, but nobody did, and now it's mine.

I got to take it out on the ice yesterday after it snowed the whole previous day long.



I had made it several blocks and was in a neighboring residential area when I had an encounter of the up-close and vehicular kind. Recapping it to a coworker in an email:

The car was some yellow thing. Maybe a Volkswagon? It was parked parallel to the street on my right, and the windows were COMPLETELY iced over. Hardly a peep hole to see through. So as I got close to it, it backed up suddenly, SLAMMING into the car behind it. Nothing shattered but there was a loud thunk. And then it pulled out into the street when I was right next to it. I had to swerve out of the way and almost wiped out in the process. I yelled at them to stop, but they sped off.

The car had Florida tags, so maybe they don't know much about things like Ice or Snow. Or Driving. Or Not Being A Miserable Human Being. While it may not be fair, I'm harboring some ill will towards all things Floridian today.

I have since let Florida off the hook.

I yelled at the driver to stop because I intended to instruct them to scrape the ice off their windows before continuing. In the moment, latching on to the fact that they had Florida tags, I really did think they might not know about ice scraping. I was prepared to show them how to do it with a credit card if they didn't have a scraper.

That all passed through my head in a split-second while the car spun its wheels and sped away.

A few houses further along, an older gentleman stood in his driveway where he had seen the whole thing. He look bewildered.

A quick thinking bystander was able to photograph the incident:



My ride continued towards, and into, Wash Park. The roads in Wash Park had not been cleared and it was just covered with ice. I got a bad case of the wobbles and nearly fell over. So I dismounted, portaged my bike through the ankle deep snow, and got back on the main road. As I was pedaling off again, a jogger acknowledged the fact that I was riding in the cold and slippery by hollering at me, "You're a brave man!" To which I assured him it was safer for me on the dry street than in the icy, more slippery, park.

I did not stop to show him the print-out of the photograph of my previous encounter with the yellow car.

I made it the rest of the way to work after stopping once to warm my hands.



Safe and sound, at my place of employment, I unclipped my helmet, swung my leg over the back of my bike to dismount, and tore my pants.



Between the new tear and the skunk stripe that comes from riding through wet stuff without fenders, these pants were trashed!

My boss looked concerned upon my arrival, and then looked visibly relieved when I emerged from the bathroom in a fresh, crisp change of clothes.

Eight hours of work ensued, and when it was time to return home, the sun had been out all day and the roads were completely clear. I wore just two t-shirts under my jacket instead of the two long-sleeve shirts from that morning. What a difference!

Between my weather gear and my work clothes, here is a list of all the clothing I carried with me.

• Buff. Worn like a balaclava in the morning and a head scarf in the afternoon. (My buff is my favorite piece of cycling gear. I use it all year long.)


• Two long-sleeve t-shirts. For the morning ride.


• T-shirt and button down shirt. For work.


• Another, heavy long sleeve shirt. For work.


• Tights and (currently trashed) khakis. For morning ride.


• Blue jeans. For work.


• One pair of wool socks, one pair of wool gloves.


• My reflective cycling jacket.

Shirt total: 5
Pants total: 3

That's roughly the amount of clothing I pack for a long weekend vacation!

ice bike

Especially my front tire. I was pretty much riding on the rim, and I have no idea how I didn't notice. I must have been focusing too hard on the ice and the traffic.

When I parked my bike, both tires were covered in a thin layer of water/snow, through which the escaping air bubbled and hissed and mini-gurgled. It's a weird noise and when you hear it, it's obvious that it's not good.

When I went to pull out the front tube to patch it, I noticed that it wasn't 100% flat as I had thought. It was more like 75% flat, but seemed to be holding air at that point. I was curious about whether the sealant goop had somehow gooped up and sealed the leak, so I just pumped both the tires up instead of pulling it all apart.

The front one held. So, yippee!

The rear one apparently has a slow leak, but slow enough to let me ride home on it after another pre-departure pump.

I'll have to find and patch that leak tomorrow.

On the way home, about four blocks from work, I wobbled on some ice and fell down. A Schwann's truck that was approaching me slowed, and the driver hollered out the window, "Whoa dude, are you okay?"

"Yeah, thanks!" I answered.

"That ice is hard," he called.

"Yup."

At that point we both continued along our original trajectories.

The opinions of little children apparently matter a lot to me

On the way home I was riding while sitting upright, i.e. no hands, because I was using my hands to feed myself some cheese crackers, when I rode past a group of eight year old latinos who were milling about on the sidewalk with their own eight-year-old sized bicycles.

They saw me and started cheering, showing me their Thumbs Up and calling out, "Good! Good!"

So I waved and showed them my Peace Sign, and I felt really friggin cool.

Best commute.

Had an Epic Ride this morning of the Elite Mega Advanced variety. Timed every light, didn't have to stop or put my foot down once. Didn't shift out of my high gear.

I got so excited that I sprinted the whole way to work, and was well winded by the time I got there.

It wasn't a perfectly Lawful ride. I Idahoed all the four way stops. And the two way stops for that matter. And I did run a red light, but it's a red light that I always have to run anyway because the sensors won't recognize my bike. So, in all, a pretty Unlawful ride.

But no stopping, no shifting! Shazam!

Sloan's Lake to Chatfield Lake

Big ride today! Map.

My daily commute takes me from Sloans Lake to near Stapleton, about 8.5 miles, and that is the distance I'm used to, and really the farthest I've ever gone at once.

Until today.

I had been thinking about a ride down to Chatfield State Park for a while now, and decided that today would be the day. It was about 36 miles round-trip.

I'll go ahead and say for the record here and now, that electing to go for a ride over four times longer than what had previously been your longest ride, is not a super great idea.  I'm kinda hurting. I mean, the ride whupped my butt.

I had a lot of fun, and I'd do it again. I'm just saying that maybe I should have done a 15 miler between the 8.5 and the 36. I've been pretty worthless all afternoon. 

So here are a few comments and observations from the ride:

• Yet another reason that I will continue to wear my helmet, even on the comparatively "safe" bike path: a grasshopper, mid-flight, crashed into my face and got stuck in my beard. The bug and I both freaked out so hard. Went into the Death Wobbles and nearly dumped over before recovering.

• Discovered Hudson Gardens' (http:www.hudsongardens.org) cafe facing the bike path. It was delightful! A great little stop for refreshments, water, or bathrooms. There were a lot of cyclists there, enjoying the shade and each other's company.

• By the time I got back home, it was hot and I was overheated. Stopped at Confluence Park behind REI and dove into the river to cool off. It was here that I saw an older man on the REI side of the river drop his hybrid-style looking bicycle into the river. I stood and watched for a few minutes as he sat on the concrete ledge and kicked his feet as his bike sat in the drink with the water covering the hubs of his wheels.  He then jumped in himself and attempted for forge the river, pushing his bike along the river bed. When he got to the point where the water was so deep that just his handlebars and seat were showing, and the current starting to push him around a little bit, he started shouting and gesturing wildly to no one in particular, turned around, and headed back to his "shore," where he shoved the bike up and out of the river, and then clambered after it. Wow.

And I guess that's all. I haven't done much but sit on the couch and rehydrate since getting home, but what a fun ride.