It is said that the Inuits have a gazillion words for snow. If the ice keeps up, I will have a million words for it.
Yesterday, after I had driven into town, I mentioned to Rachel that the condition of the ice was getting worse: it was breaking up, refreezing into chunks and developing a slick sheen.
Heading out this morning, the ice was definitely slicker and I could see I was not going to have a repeat of yesterday's great ride. The studs were not working quite as well and my back tire spun more as I went up hills. But there was one section of a road in our neighborhood that turned out to be particularly treacherous. Just topping a slight rise, my front tire gave out from beneath me and the bike went sliding down sideways between my legs. Fortunately, I had cleats on my feet and I was able to remain standing. A short time later, I crossed over the section of road again at a different spot. I thought I was safely down a small downhill and on level ground when the bike slid out from underneath me a second time on a patch of ice. I put out my foot again but this time the cleats just slid across the ice and I ended up flat on my lower back. There was the inital "Ow," followed a second later by a more agonized "Ow." Rubbing my lower back/butt/tail bone area, I assessed just how badly I was hurt while also thinking about my sister-in-law Nancy's fall where she shattered her elbow. Nothing seemed seriously hurt and I quickly got up, wanting to begin riding again before things stiffened up. Riding actually felt good but every patch of ice now seemed like a terrorist threat. The glee and synchronicity of yesterday's ride was definitely not part of today's agenda.
BTW: A re-assessment of the sound of the tires. Listening to them again today on an area where I did ride more easily, the "whomp" reminded me of a quickly spinning propeller.
Today's Ride: 65 minutes. 6 miles. 22 degrees. Miles YTD: 629.77
No comments:
Post a Comment