Sometimes, you just feel like a ride shouldn't even happen. Friday night's insane, warm wind ruined Goose Lake for Saturday night's Frigid Bits race, and it put a new glaze on the Hillside trails, making them slicker'n snot—and they were already slippery to start with.
To top it off, I was up most of Friday night with a sick kid. By the time I dragged my groggy ass out of bed at noon, I had no intention of touching a bike for the rest of the day. But late in the afternoon my wife suggested I get out for a ride, so I decided to head out with the social-ride crew during the trail race.
Funny how a bike a six-pack of Alaskan Amber in the back of my 4Runner can perk me up.
The trails are an icy mess. You can't ski on 'em. You can barely walk on 'em. But you can still clatter over 'em on studded tires. It's good to be a mountain biker in a winter like this.
Sure, I'd rather have some snow. Sure, I miss riding the Pugs. But hey, we're still riding, and Mother Nature's keeping the post-ride beer cold for us.