Worst Day of the Year Ride 2010

Doug, Rich, Radioactive Dave, & Dan

Rain? What Rain?
Okay, so it wasn't the worst. It wasn't epic. It wasn't the kind of ride that you tell stories about years later. The predicted rain, (yes, January 24th and rain) was nearly non-existent. It had come down all night and morning, but subsided by ride time. But the ride was still a good time and that works.

Anyway, the roads were still wet and with an apparent dearth of fenders in the Ann Arbor area it still felt plenty wet and gritty out there. (Note to DeWight: you'd make a killing selling and mounting fenders at the beginning of this event.)

The Sign in Crew

If anything, the danger was overdressing. With temps in the mid to upper 40s, it got hot in multiple layers of clothes, plus rain gear. I had to peel off my rain vest after the first ten miles. I prefer my saunas off the bike. Heat stroke in the middle of winter is not the kind of story you want to tell while splayed across a table at the end of the ride in Arbor Brewing Company (ABC).

DeWight

I did the forty mile route. I mentioned this as we prepared to leave to DeWight Plotner, owner of Wheels in Motion, the sponsor of the ride, and he asked me to keep an eye on things out there on those wild roads with those winter riding wackos.

Responsibility
That meant I had to be responsible, which is usually a tough one for me, but the other side of that was that I had an excuse if everything ratcheted up to a suffer level I wasn't in the mood for. And they always do, even when someone calls for a moderate tempo ride. One rider's tempo is another's pain. And I'd never want to admit that I was in pain and getting dropped.

I could simply drop back and let everyone know it was time for me to be responsible.

This happened far more quickly than I'd planned. It was shortly after passing through Ypsi when Doug's chain derailed. I was still fresh. (Doug, you could have had the decency to wait until I was pooping out.) The whole group stopped to wait, but I realized that wasn't going to work every time someone had a mechanical, so I signaled them to go forth while I, responsible guy, circled back to make sure everything was all right. It was.

Rich, Fixing His Flat. We Watched.

Someone even more responsible than I, Javier, had stopped to help already and they were chugging my way. The group was still in sight, but a series of dots way up the road, so we headed off in chase, only to find Rich pulled over not far up with a flat. We stopped. Always nice to have Rich when you need to chase back, plus Rich is uber-responsible and helps everyone everywhere always. We stared at him while he fixed his flat. Not much help, but we stared well.

Alex, Ben and Dan

Once he got the flat fixed the group was long gone, but we had our own little pack and we paced along quite nicely, finding Ben along the way.

Doug

"Easy"
I thought there was supposed to be a stiff east wind, and though we were headed north, wind of any kind was non-existent. This was going to be the easiest Worst Day of the Year Ride ever. Five guys, nice pulls. Life had its benefits in the active outdoor world.

Then we got to Whitmore Lake and headed back south. Whoa! The wind had decided to shift from its easterly prediction to a southerly blast of pain. It was a wind wall from Whitmore Lake back to Ann Arbor. Legs were fading fast on nearly everyone.

Forty Milers

We picked up a number of riders who were struggling just to keep the pedals turning. It was hard to hold everyone together, since some riders had spent all their muscle power on the ride out. Soft pedaling meant nearly not pedaling at all.

Responsible Heads South
Past Northfield Church Road I lost responsible and pedaled hard into the wind distancing myself from the others. It was foolish, I know that. I do these things and learn to regret them over and over, never learning my lesson. This is one of those moves that signals to others the race is on. It never fails with the group I ride with.

Javier. That Smile is His Way of Letting Us Know that at Some Point It's Going To Hurt.

After letting my little paper mache body dangle in the wind for about ten minutes, Javier caught me, pulled ahead and began to pummel my aching quads. He had all kinds of power to spare and I had a couple of aching toothpicks for legs pleading with me to stop.

But without Javier it was just me and the wind alone. With Javier it was me holding on with eyes crossed. He even signaled for me to take the front at one point. I pulled into the wind, felt like I got punched by Thor, and pulled back behind Javier's vortex. We left it that way until town, where we finally did soft pedal for a few blocks into the relief that is ABC. Another WDOTY ride done. Spring can come now. Watch out for Javier this year. Engine's firing all too well.

All Photos © oRo.

Winter Biking (Black Treads, White Ground)

Charles Braves the Terrain

The 50's were tough. The 40's took resolve, but they hung around for a while and started to feel all right. Even a bit balmy. Then it dropped again, and the 30's sent you back into the clothes drawers for another set of layers. The 20's required a wince once out the door as the breeze hit the raw skin of your cheeks and brought out the charcoal warmers for the feet. The water bottle froze halfway through the ride.

Dare to Tread


But what's the alternative? The trainer? Woohoo! Nothing more fun than that trainer. On a beautiful July day I spin away outdoors pining for those cozy moments in the basement on that trainer, wind whistling through the cracks in the doors and windows that I should have sealed during the warm months when I was spending way too much time riding outdoors and lamenting the fact that I could be in the basement counting each pedal stroke until the hour was over.

Outdoors an hour goes by in a flash. Indoors it's like waiting in a doctor's office with only Stethoscope magazine to read. You swear someone messes with that minute hand because it's been at least twenty minutes since you looked at the clock last and it's only been two.

Call it denial. Call it idiocy. Call it anything you want, but I will do nearly anything to find a way to get outdoors, especially on a bike, rather than spin in the basement. And I've even downloaded all of the available Nathan Spear CX videos to keep me interested enough to make it tolerable, but still, getting outside trumps those. I've spent some winters spinning at the Y just to have the company of other miserable souls staring out the spacious windows at the snow blowing horizontally by. Still, this year, I'm trying to figure out ways to be outside rather than waiting for the outside to get tolerable enough to face or the conditions reasonable enough to traverse.

Clipped in, Seat Back in the Upright Position

Look, hardy souls go dogsledding in Alaska in conditions worse than we have here in Michigan. People will go downhill skiing in biting cold wind and in this state that means a lot of time spent on a chairlift without the benefit of moving muscles to keep the blood pumping high enough to warm the extremities. So you can't get me to believe that it's too cold to bike.

And there are ways to rig up a bike to handle the terrain challenges. Even ice, to a degree, is rideable, though it must be respected above all things. I rode some dirt roads south of Saline yesterday on my cross bike and though most of them were easily traversed, there were moments, especially when the grade pitched up or down, when it was clear that I'd moved into another sport altogether. Speed skating? Ice surfing? But this is okay as long as you stay relaxed (Oh, my god! I'm gonna die!) and keep the wheel going straight. Just don't panic. (Just Don't Panic!) Sure, the heartbeat is up in the 200 bpm range making it hard to minimize front wheel wobble, but soon you're back on snowy gravel and all is well.

Sure, Connie's Not On a Bike Here, but Doesn't it Look Great?

I don't have studs on my tires. I'm definitely thinking they'd be a good idea, though again, stay relaxed, make smooth arcs rather than quick turns, and use the brakes with a light touch and most of the time you'll be fine. Most of the time. Okay, so riding in winter isn't for the faint of heart. But I have a heart condition. I do it. So what's your excuse? Lack of the stupid gene? I hear you.

The wildest thing of all is that working those tires over the slippery stuff is great for developing your bike handling skills. I've gone out mountain biking a number of times in the past couple of weeks and I'm always amazed every winter how rejuvenating it is. The nerves need to settle down, usually after ten minutes or so (Help Me! I will never ever do anything bad or evil again! I promise! Just save me! I can crawl back to the car! Really I can! I want my therapist!), and then you can often ride near your usual snowless rate of speed as long as the ice is minimal.

If ice is present then there needs to be a lot more caution, and some days you have to bag it altogether in order to allow you to ride for the rest of the year with bones intact. Don't listen to your body, listen to your bike and its interaction with the earth. You'll listen to your body as soon as you hit the ground and then it will be too late. Glaze ice is not to be messed with, especially if it's the dominant element in the landscape. Even studded tires have their limitations.

Hay! It's Just Down the Road a Piece

But, a few inches of hard packed snow and some knobby tires are ideal for a good session out in the woods or on the dirt roads in your area. Just don't lay it sideways in turns and life will be good. I took my friend Charles, who hadn't ventured forth trail riding in the winter before, out for a couple of hours at Island Lake and he was amazed that once he got over the jitters how possible it was to stay upright and enjoy himself. We've gone out since to Murray Lake and that day there were many more patches of ice on the trail, especially on the hills, and though it was a challenge, we still had a good ride. Another biker was out with studs on his tires and the hills that Charles and I pushed up were easily rideable for him. He just chugged away in his granny gear.

View on a Dirt Road Ride. They're Waiting for You.

This brings us back to those dropping temperatures. The word here is acclimating. You think Calvin Tittleswonk headed out to the Iditarod without some prep and adjustment to conditions? I think not. Calvin took it a step at a time. Little dogsled crits in balmy October, a couple of sleigh races in biting December, an open tundra sprint or two in windy February, and by the time the big race was under way he was ready. He had the right mukluks, a nice furry hood, and some state of the art solar charcoal toe warmers when he mushed the big one.

Part of the game is to go outside a few times a week for an hour or more. You know the outside. It's the place between the car and your office where your face is all squinched up and every muscle in your body is tight as a twisted rebar and your butt bone is sucked up somewhere near your solar plexus. That place.

Go out. Embrace your inner thermometer and let it drop to levels previously unknown. Bring your bike. Face the elements. It's the real 3D multiplex with surround sound and all the thrills of a life altering experience in the wild, even though this wild is still within the county limits. You'll have a great time. Or, you'll swear at me for talking you into this. But go. I can take it.