Southcentral Alaska has become the place where fun goes to die.
I love this state. But Jesus Fiddle-playing Christ on a Pogo Stick, this winter is turning into a big, soggy shit sandwich. At one point this weekend, the National Weather Service forecast for Anchorage include an avalanche warning, a freezing-rain advisory, a flood watch, and a strong-winds advisory. All at the same freakin’ time.
Bike riders, skiers, ice skaters and even kids with sleds have been trying to salvage this nearly snow-free season and, as usual, fat bikers have generally been the ones managing to have a good time. But that pretty much came to an end at the moment captured in today’s photo.
I joined Julie for a ride on Saturday. With some caution, we were able to enjoy some singletrack, and I had even mentioned a couple of times how I enjoy riding in light, freezing rain. (I shit you not. I actually do.)
Then the light drizzle turned into full-on, balls-out rain. And it was landing on icy trails. Jules and I watched conditions deteriorate by the minute. We resorted to walking our bikes up slight inclines because the trail was like grease. We could barely find enough traction to stand up.
And the weather has only gotten worse since then.
Some riders are turning to the dreaded indoor trainer. Some of us have resorted to drinking more beer and watching our bellies grow.
Fortunately a tiny, tiny few of us are waiting for the freedom bird. That big, beautiful jet that will soon carry us to warm, sunny Arizona singletrack.
Bring it on. I'd rather take my chances with rattlesnakes and cactus needles.