Water and Ice

The plan for Sunday was not unlike Saturday's. Neither was the weather. This time we were to meet at the Starbucks in Lakeview for 10 am, so I headed out from the house around 9:15 so I'd have time for a cup of coffee first. The temperature was still a few degrees below freezing, leaving little patches of ice here and there in the gutter, but I was fairly well-attired and suffered more from the wind than the cold. By the time we finally rolled out from Starbucks there were about a dozen of us sporting all manner of cold-weather wardrobe improvisations. The wind was maybe a bit lighter than Saturday, but it was looking like it would be a battle in the crosswinds for the most part. The group was kind of a mixed bag today with some riders already committed to turning back early and others, like me, wanting to do a long ride if, and only if, there would be a few others with whom to share the work.

As we rode down old Highway 90 out toward Chef Menteur and Venetian Isles I started to warm up pretty well as the pace went up a notch. I eased to the back to pull off my chest protector. It turned out to be quite a job since it was buried beneath two zippers. It must have taken me three or four minutes to get that thing over my head, stuff it into a pocket, and re-zip. Actually, I was feeling warm enough at that point that I left my long-sleeve jersey unzipped, protected only by my vest. For the rest of the ride I regulated my temperature by zipping and unzipping the vest.

By the time we crossed the Chef bridge headed for Fort Pike, we were down to just six riders. Everyone was pretty much on the same page, however, and we kept an even pace all the way out with the stronger riders pulling longer and the weaker ones less. Other than the fact that it was freezing cold and windy, and there were ice cubes forming in my water bottle, the weather was beautiful and the traffic was light, making it a pretty good day for a Fort Pike ride. So we all rode over big new bridge over the Rigolets, stopping at the top to take photos or just enjoy the scenery. It's kind of scary when you're up there and you realize how thin and fragile that little strip of roadway looks. We really do live on an island because that really doesn't quite count as "land."

As we made our way back toward town my legs started getting heavier and heavier. I battled with zippers and jersey pockets and finally retrieved the powerbar I'd brought along. Kenny, however, had started out without anything and by the time we were getting close to the service road he was starting to bonk. I guess we'd been out at least three hours at that point and still had close to twenty miles to go (I had around 85 on the computer when I got home), so we stopped at the gas station on Bullard to refuel.

So anyway, the last few days have been pretty challenging, and it looks like the next two mornings will also be in the low 30s before things start to return to normal around here. I think the novelty of riding in the cold is beginning to wear a little thin, so I'm already looking forward to the luxury of riding in the relatively balmy upper 30s and low 40s that are more typical this time of year. I think that whether or not I ride tomorrow morning will depend a lot on how my legs feel when I wake up.