Every spring, the Big Weekend of Bike Work rolls around. That’s when I start getting ready for rides on pavement—and the more distant goal of dirt. Last Saturday, I put new tires on the road bike, and got everything lubed and adjusted. I worked on the rear shock of my trail bike, and cleaned up the drivetrain that was rode hard and put away wet last fall.
But I didn’t touch my commuter. The studded tires stayed on.
That was partially due to experience—I’ve been fooled plenty of times by “spring” conditions, and paid the price—and partially due to the fact I suffer a serious butt-pucker affliction when I hit morning glare ice without good studs. So I’m a wimp. Whatever. I hate pain.
A few other local riders swapped out their winter tires last week, and were thrilled to shed the weight and noise of studs, but until I ride at least one morning without any ice to contend with, my Nokians aren’t retiring for the off season.
I felt good about that decision when the flakes started to fall shortly after my family finished dinner with friends Sunday afternoon. I felt even better when I woke up to a couple of inches of snow that was still coming down this morning.
I’m as guilty as anyone of saying things like, “Man, I can’t wait to get out on the road bike.” But that’s just a figure of speech. I’m eager to get out on the road bike, but I can wait.
Especially if it means I get to stay upright.