Sweet spot

Occasionally when riding with a tailwind you find a sweet spot where you are moving the exact same speed and direction as the wind.  No wind blowing in your face, no wind to your back and there is quick moment of complete silence except for the noise of your tires rolling on the asphalt (on a country road anyway).  I find it quite the experience although its subtle enough that most wouldn't think anything of it.

This morning was just a drab, snowy mess on my way to work.  We woke up to the wind howling around the house and the sky was streaked with white as huge snowflakes sailed by.  I was not looking forward to my ride to work.  I bundled up just as I would in January, except it's spring (or supposed to be).  I turned the last corner onto Montana Avenue, which is a 4 block straight-away, and hit that sweet spot.  It was a totally surreal experience that I've only seen once before.  This time it was as if time froze.  The snowflakes stopped flying past me and just hung there, suspended in the air if even for just a second.  I had the road to myself so I heard that same eerie silence broken only by the noise of my tires on the pavement.  There was enough snow that my view of the surrounding buildings was partially blocked.  I felt like I was cycling in place.  Now I'm not a Trekkie (Star Trek Trekkie anyway, because I'm definitely a Trek Bike Trekkie) but it was almost reminiscent of the instant the Enterprise comes out of warp speed where the stars streak past you through space and freeze in place before you.   

Experiences like that is just one of the many reasons I love cycling.  And now I've let you all know just how much of a dork I really am, as if you didn't know before.

Ending the hiatus

10.5 Miles

Life's been busy lately and with Sarah working, multiple home improvement projects, and other weekend responsibilities, I have been hard-pressed to touch the bike other than my daily commute to and from work (if I'm lucky).  Yesterday Sarah had to work the night shift so she was home all day sleeping.  While the girls played downstairs and Evie napped (or cried in her crib), I tried to make some headway on the bathroom remodel.  While waiting for spackle and caulk to dry, I decided to fix Tara's flat and de-gunk Sydney's rollerblades.  When Evie woke up still grumpy and crying incessantly, I decided that I needed to be a good dad and spend time with them rather than continuing work on the bathroom. We decided to go on a bike ride hoping that putting Evie in the trailer would shut her up for an hour or so.

Everyone was finally ready to go around 6:00pm and although they refused to wear them, I grabbed jackets for everyone and threw them in the trailer.  We took off, managing the busy streets carefully until we reached the entrance to the paved trail where we stopped and donned the jackets that Dad insisted on bringing but the girls refused to wear.  Then we took off, Tara, in front, of course, tearing it up as fast as those little legs will pump insisting on being first, and Sydney traveling at her own pace, so slow that she can hardly see Tara off in the distance.  After a quick snack of Nutter Butters and a drink of water, we set off to climb the big hill at the stinky water fall (water treatment plant). 

The girls did great, and although tired at the top, Tara insisted that we keep going.  I, however, was carefully watching the clock and the sun on the horizon.  When Tara refused to turn around, I agreed to go to the top of the next hill.  When we got there, she again refused to turn around and insisted that we go to the end of the trail.  I bargained with her and we agreed to go to the tunnel and turn back so we'd get home before dark.  Sydney reluctantly followed us hoping that we'd turn back any second.

We got to the tunnel and Tara kept going.  I had to force her to turn around.  In fact, Sydney and I left and waited on the other side of the tunnel for her to change her mind an follow.  She eventually did and we coasted quickly back down to the river, but wind chill from quicker speeds began to get to us and we started getting really cold.  By now the girls were done riding and complained the rest of the trip.  I was panicking, knowing how tough it would be to get the girls home in the dark and it was starting to get really cold.  With some prodding, and sometimes some yelling and precious little daylight left we finally made it back home, frozen and tired.  I think they had fun but it was a little too much for them.  Sydney immediately jumped in the tub to thaw out and Tara climbed into her pajamas and went to bed (without dinner).  So, my attempt to be a good father ended up more like child abuse, or at the least, neglect.  At least Evie stopped crying, not a peep other than excited squeals, the whole trip.  We'll have to try it again with warmer weather and more time to rest.

Slushy roads

11.75 miles

48 degrees

Being that our slightly above freezing temperatures are going to quickly give way to sub zero in the next couple days, I decided to take advantage of the nice weather (for January in Montana) and do some pedaling in the snow.  Since our last snow storm was over a week ago and we had rain yesterday, I assumed that the roads and trails would be a little easier to ride than my Thanksgiving Day ride on the same route.  Ohhh, so wrong.  Inside Riverfront Park the hard packed trails had turned into a slushy mess making it almost impossible to pedal in anything but my lowest gears.  But it was possible and hoping that things would improve as I got closer to the road, I pressed on.  I was able to pedal most of the trail except the deepest parts.  Which poses the question, why are cross country skiers always so skinny?  I need some heavy weights to pack down the trails for me.

Anyway, in one of the tough spots I had to jump off the bike and walk.  Then I noticed that my bike computer was no longer there.  I had to turn around and retrace my steps to find the thing.  After my quarter mile detour to find my computer, I finally reached the first of the lakes in the park.  I looked at the slushy mess I was riding in, then looked at the smooth snow covered lake.  My studded tires are made for ice you know.  At first I was leery and cautious but there were deer, dog, and ski tracks all over the place.  I figured the ice was thick enough.  I gained real confidence after discovering the lake was pitted with ice fishing holes that were at least 4 inches thick.  I took off, shifting up a couple gears and circled the lake a couple times before I decided to move on. 

Shifting back down, I then rode the trail around Lake Josephine.  Out of breathe and super tired after the trail, I decided it was time to play again, this time on Lake Josephine.  Again, I was able to gain some speed but biking on the frozen lake with 4 inches of slushy snow on top is still no picnic.  I think I may have hit 6 mph which felt like flying compared to the slow progress on the trails. 

I finished playing on Lake Josephine, exhausted, wet, sweaty and ready to go home.  Then I looked at the disappointing mileage on my bike computer and determined to go another mile or so around Norm's Island.  Norm's Island is a popular dog walking area where I figured I might have better luck with the trails being packed down from so much traffic.  I was right.  I was able to shift up a couple gears and again hit 6 mph.  Flying comparatively. 

The ride home afterwords was a long one.  I was exhausted and ready to be off the bike.  I had overdressed so I was sweating and just wanted to strip my gear off and shower.  I think that has to be of the hardest 11 miles I've ever done, with exception of riding to the Beartooth Highway Gate above Red Lodge in below 40 temperatures in a t-shirt and shorts after having already ridden 50 miles in the rain.

Railroad Crossing

I was asked to help out with the Cub Scout Construction City on Saturday and being the considerate husband and father I am, I decided to ride over to the event and leave the car home for the girls (which they did not use).  The roads were icy with a fresh layer of snow covering it and the temperatures had dipped into the low teens.  Yeah, I'm a little crazy but in my defense, it was 30 degrees the night before and I didn't notice how cold it was until I was already on the road, in just a windbreaker.  My body stayed warm but I could feel the sting of the cold where my clothes touched my skin.

Considering the road conditions, I debated my route and opted for a less traveled route to avoid the traffic.  Its a route I rarely ever ride.  I took State Street to the 6th Street underpass and worked my way up the neighborhoods to the auditorium.  On State Street there is a rail road crossing that is so infrequently used that I often forget it's even there.  As I approached, traveling around 16-18 mph, I saw the tracks in the snow.  Tracks are never a good situation on a bike, especially when they don't cross perpendicularly.  At our organized rides, they always warn us to take the tracks at a 90 degree angle, or as close to it as possible.  I've heard of the dangers but have never seen or experienced any problems with tracks before.

As I said, the tracks snuck up on me and before I knew it, they were right there in front of me and, of course, they crossed the road at an angle.  Rather than swerve on the ice I opted to roll over the tracks and hope for the best.  I don't know what happened next but as soon as my front tire hit the tracks, my bike was jumping out of control.  I dropped my feet off the pedals but they never touched the road.  The next thing I know, I'm sliding down the road laying face down on top of my bike with a sharp pain in my knee where it had whacked the pavement.  Hurt and embarrassed, I slowly stood up, brushed myself off,  inspected the bike, put the chain back on the front sprocket and climbed back onto the bike.  Although it happened so fast, I'm pretty sure my front tire got caught in the track and flipped me off the bike.  I now understand the challenges of railroad tracks and will be much more cautious of them in the future.

I did make it to the event and back without another incident but I have limped around all weekend.  The knee is tender to the touch but I'm sure it will be back to normal in a week or so.  I'd rather take a whack to the knee than another hit on the elbow any day.

I love my studded tires!

Have I mentioned that I absolutely love my studded snow tires?  I know I have but I'll reiterate it again.  I love my studded snow tires.

Last year Grandpa Jensen pulled Sydney and Tara in a sled behind his riding lawn mower and they loved it.  This Thanksgiving one of our friends, Chris, pulled them behind his motorcycle and they had a blast.  I figured since Chris was able to pull them with his motorcycle, surely I could pull them for awhile on my bike with the studded snow tires.  Today, in a desperate bit of bribery, I promised Sydney and Tara that I'd pull their sled behind my bike if they helped to clean up their house, especially that heap of toys, dirty clothes and other junk they call a bedroom.  This is a promise I've been making for over a week but they've never followed through.  This time they finally did. 

After dinner I snuck outside, tied a line around my seat post and through the saddle mount and looped it onto the sled.  I really doubted my ability to pull both of them through the snow, especially after our extremely slow start.  With the sled fully loaded, I cranked down on the pedals and popped a nice wheely and then the back wheel spun out.  The sled never moved.  I tried a slower start and slowly towed them out of the alley while my back wheel spun out all over the place and my front wheel jumped from rut to rut unpredictably.  I anticipated troubles so I pulled out my old hockey elbow pads to protect my already tender and damaged  elbows.  Never needed them, thank goodness.

Eventually we pulled out onto the road and the riding got easier.  Best to stick to the hard-packed snow.  The kids had a blast.  I even dumped them a couple times but I never went down.  I think we were out there for about an hour and even though my heart was beating about a thousand times per minute, they egged me on, "Faster Daddy!  FASTER!"  After awhile, I convinced them to take turns and go one at a time so I could go faster (and get a much needed break).  I found an open parking lot for the sugar beet factory where I could really let loose and pick up some speed.  I couldn't tell if the screams behind me where screams of joy or fear but they had a great time and I got in an awesome workout.  Not really an ideal Sunday activity but I'll classify it as family time.  I'm eager to get Evie out on her new infant sled!  A three kid train!  Oh the neighbors much think I'm crazy!