Slip 'n Fall

Thursday morning -- Nope!

Cabin fever was definitely a thing in the aftermath of the historic snowfall event earlier in the week, but with practically no frame of reference, I didn't really know when it might be possible to actually get out on the roads again. I'd skipped riding (indoors) on Wednesday, but finally relented Thursday morning, and spent a slightly miserable hour on the trainer down in the basement.

Friday on the leveee

There were still tons of snow, some of which had started to melt, by Friday, but desperate times call for desperate measures, so around noon I decided to see if I could make it out to the levee bike path, which I knew would be fine. I also knew that getting there and back would not, so I rolled out onto the wet streets on the 'Cross bike with 36mm gravel tires, hoping for the best. I stayed mostly off of Carrollton, which I new would still have some icy patches since it's entirely under the oak trees, and eventually made it to the levee. By then the sun was shining and the path was pretty dry, so I had a nice little 20-odd mile ride. The temperature was up into the upper 40s by then, so that was a nice change. The bike path was littered with abandoned gloves and socks, and a whole host of items New Orleanians had pressed into service as sleds. Those included a lot of plastic bin lids, styrofoam belly boards, inflatable pool toys, and one full-size windsurf board with the skeg removed. My training week, and for that matter practically the entire month, was already shot, so I didn't make much of an effort.

Walking to the exit after the crash on Saturday.

Saturday morning I made the fateful decision to ride out to Starbucks and see if anyone else would be foolish enough to show up. Most of the ice was gone from the regular city streets, so there was really no problem at all riding out there, except for the temperature, which was just barely above freezing. As it turned out, there were about ten of us. Lakeshore Drive and Hayne Blvd. were fine, and as we turned onto Paris Road Brett and Peyton rolled off the front without any reaction from the rest. We rode over I-10, coming down onto 510 as usual, and that's around where things started going downhill. One section between there and Lake Forest is elevated interstate, and you could see a lot of snow piled up along the concrete barriers to the right of the roadway. We were in the exit lane, almost to the Lake Forest exit when Blake, who was in front on his track bike, suddenly slid out. He's hit a long patch of ice that must have formed when melting snow re-froze overnight. Well, needless to say, everyone behind him, seven or eight in total, also crashed. Fortunately everyone seemed OK, more or less. One shifter was destroyed, and I guess everyone landed pretty hard on hips and shoulders, but all were able to get up and walk on the slip-n-slide, rather gingerly, to the exit. A passing car informed Brett and Peyton, who came back to make sure everyone was OK. 

Needless to say, everyone bailed out onto Lake Forest for an otherwise uneventful ride back where they could lick their wounds. I had landed pretty hard on my right hip, and whacked my head on the concrete, cracking my Lazer helmet (which offers a 50% discount on crash replacemets, BTW). I had a pretty significant hematoma on the hip, and I knew my neck muscles were going to be sore, but otherwise I survived in reasonably good condition.  By afternoon the temperature had warmed up into the 50s, so I once again took the cyclocross bike out to the levee to log another 22 miles. The sun was out, I spotted four bald eagles, and it was generally a nice little solo ride.

Back on Lakeshore Drive on Saturday.

On Sunday we had maybe ten on hand for the Giro. By then the road conditions were much improved, and we did a full Giro with some long sections of rotating paceline. Nobody was in any great hurry, but with so few to share the work it was still a decent workout, at least for me.

Mellow Monday

This morning there was the usual group for the Mellow Monday ride, except for Charles who was at home thinking he needed to get an x-ray to see if he's broken any ribs, and VJ who had likewise landed pretty hard on Saturday and had also gone to the doctor to check for broken bones (he was OK). It was close to 60° so we had a nice ride. Maurizio surged up the Bayou St. John bridge on the way back, as he usually does, and we lost everyone, but regrouped on Canal.

So last week was a third low-mileage week for me, thanks almost entirely to the winter weather.