The forecast said it would snow overnight. In the meantime, the inch or two from yesterday morning had mostly melted. I put on more layers than I had in worn in the past seven months.
My earbuds stayed home as I wanted to savor this ride. Tomorrow there would be no more trail riding for the rest of the year. The impending storm likely would not bring skiing, but I will be skiing on these trails before I am riding on them next spring.
The sound of snow crunching under my tires is the only thing I hear. Other than the sound of my tires the forest is silent as I make my way up the trail. The smell of rotting leaves and wet dirt will soon be lost, buried under snow. A wind from the northwest cuts through my clothes to my chest. My hands are warm and hidden inside giant gloves. This is the kind of cold I hadn't felt in months.
I wasn't going hard and I wasn't going easy. The objective here was to soak in the ride and not crash. At times the snow was slippery, in other places the dirt was soft and my rear wheel slid more than I would have liked. I just tried to ride smart and look around so I could recall this ride when I can't ride.
NOAA says we would be getting ten to twelve inches of snow tonight. This ride was going to be it.
My eye doctor says I get a lens next week. After more than five hundred days, that ordeal could be coming to an end. After that surgery I'll be on the sidelined for another month, so my return may be on skis.
Here is the warming hut. All it needs is some snow.
