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.