With a busier bike season this year, older kids who are super fun to hang out with, and some wet weather, I’ve been riding way less than I like.
Last week, trying to get back on track, I planned some bigger mileage. Then my schedule got rearranged and I was headed to Whistler for a few days of work … real work with rain gear, shovels, and blisters and stuff. It didn’t do much for my riding plans.
After a few days, I realized that Friday morning was free, so I planned a great loop the night before and laid out my biking gear.
I woke Friday morning to a monsoon. I looked at the thermostat and saw a lowly three degrees registered. I wanted to curl up and sleep in, but knowing this was my only chance to ride for the week, I jumped up, climbed into my rain gear, and headed out into the storm.
I quickly noticed that three degrees in a mountain town with a nasty cross wind and icy rain, feels much colder. I headed back and got another layer.
Eventually, the long climb started and I my core temperature got to be bearable, but I was soaked to the bone and seemed to be eating mud.
Again, it was my only ride of the week, so I kept going. I topped the climb and started on a “fun” DH trail. Each little jump or berm was turned into a sloppy puddle. I could feel water running down my butt crack and every time I blinked it felt gritty.
I exited the trail and was contemplating a second lap when I saw another biker unloading bike and dogs from his truck.
He asked me, “Where’s your dog?”
“What do you mean?” I said.
He repeated slowly “Where is your dog?”
I told him “I don’t have a dog.”
Then he laughed, “ You’re actually riding in this weather for fun?” and then just shook his head.
I skipped the second lap and aimed for home, and a hot shower. I’ll try for a bigger ride this week.
I’m James Durand and I’m Goin’ Ridin’…