Late Winter Ride
We spent the past two days riding old familiar routes, listening to roosters and dogs and the wet-sand sound of late roads
Chill air rises from shaded pastures, snow covered still, even as adjacent fields turn dark and damp under the low sun
An icy trickle from a stony creek, crossed at an angle by a low, narrow bridge
We have the entire day to ourselves, so which will be our limiting factor - The amount of daylight, or the strength in our legs? The first few hills will provide the answer
On a barren plateau, a friend's new bike sparkles metalflake gold Sutter's Mill for winter riders Brilliant and mesmerizing
We discuss frame builders and geometries, fashions in lugs and braze-ons, favorite bikes, dream bikes, bikes we envy in others
Gray trees stand silent vigil, bearing no leaves with which to comment on the steady winter breeze
Tattered flags, disheveled weeds, branches broken-down by heavy snow
An over-accumulation of cans and bottles, somewhat sorted by brand, where the same driver passing the same spot throws the same thing everyday
On a gentle climb, I watch the front wheel turning beneath me It's an odd sight after so many stationary hours on the trainer, the logo rotating slowly.
Campagnolo Record
Campagnolo Record
Campagnolo Record
Campagnolo Record
A rise, a shift, the familiar feel of lever between thumb and forefinger The tug and slide and catch of friction
I pause a moment and stand on the pedals to check which damn saddle I'm riding... Ah, but why does it feel so different today? Must be stiff from the cold
I smell my own sweat intermingled with BenGay, saltdust from the road, and the slight lanolin of warm damp wool.
On a weathered porch, a cat nestles against it's dog, napping in the warm sunlight The dog rolls over and yawns loudly The cat rearranges itself and nuzzles back in
The dynamic of acceleration on a small descent, the steering lightens as the speed increases, the feel of wheels cutting-in as we enter a fast curve
On a day like today, motorcycle guys will wave. Not a big wave - that's not cool - but a slight nod or raise of the hand, a subtle acknowledgment that we are, at least in late winter, distant cousins
We stop for food and answer the old questions: "Where'yer riding from? "Where'yer riding to? "How far'r'yer riding?
And they almost always say the same thing "Nice day for riding"
Aldo Ross Blue Ball, Ohio
Thanks to local CR listmember and new "Kvale" owner Ed Estoye for this weekend's company and conversations