A Flat Ride

When a yellow sac spider settles in for a nap on your downtube, it's a sign that you should be getting out more. (I used a twig to peel off the sac; the spider, I imagine, will be surprised to wake up many miles from where it fell asleep.)

I was looking for a short and easy ride, but not quite so short as it turned out ...

It was a chilly and overcast morning as the group gathered, discussing the pros and cons of tubeless tires. A couple of us felt that they seemed like more trouble than they're worth. I rarely get flats; I suggested that some tubeless riders end up with more trouble because they think they're invincible and stop watching for debris in their path. [We joked that now I'd tempted fate ...]

We turned out of the parking lot and ... immediately stopped, as the leader's Garmin was finicky. A little bit ahead of the group, I waited for her to pass. I had my eye on the other riders as I started to roll. I did not have my eyes on the road.

Wait, I said; there's something stuck to my front tire ... no, through my front tire.

We had not even traveled one-tenth of a mile. Feeling as deflated as my tire, I told them to continue without me; I was just going back home. I didn't feel like fixing it in the cold, and I didn't feel like making the group stand around even longer than we already had.

I collect road debris whenever I can. Preferably, with my hands.

Winter Sports

It's not all about the bike. [Well, it's mostly about the bike.]

Our HR system started admonishing me “You should take a vacation!” [Challenge accepted.]

Off to Utah, home to the best snow on earth. And the home of good friends who welcome a stream of visitors, mostly during ski season. Great skiing is just a plane ticket away—it's easier than going to Tahoe.

They encouraged me to give their Peloton bike a try. I'm not really a spin class fan, but ... why not? The beginner workout got my heart pumping. And the advanced beginner session reminded me why I'm not a spin class fan. It's not cycling. It's a workout, for sure; but I'm happier on a rowing machine or a StairMaster. [Personal preference, that's all.] Spinning my legs at a cadence of 90+ rpm bears no semblance to cycling.

Case in point: some of my colleagues are HIIT fans, and they've tried enticing me to join them. “You'd kill us on the bike!” one said. It's not about the cadence, she insisted; the goal is distance, 3/4 of a mile in a minute. [Hahahahahahaha.] In other words, 45 mph. A pro cyclist might average 31 mph in a time trial.

But this isn't about the bike, it's about the skis. Alta had already collected more than 400 inches of snow this year, and mid-week I had the lift (and often the trail) to myself. On the last day, I shared a chair with a woman who exclaimed “Challenger [a black diamond run] is beautiful, they've groomed it!” Turned out she was 83 years old. “My husband passed away at 95,” she shared. “And he kept skiing till the end.”

I had been puzzled why one of my favorite runs was roped off, until it opened on the last day and I realized there's a slide path down the face of an adjacent peak.

One run stood out on this trip, one so special that it will live on in my memory: The snow was the consistency of flour. I've never experienced anything like it.

Looking forward to many happy returns. The best snow on earth.