Winter Slam

By Greg

Winter slammed into our corner of the world. Snow piled up. Temps dropped. The valley was locked down for one of the coldest Decembers known.

So naturally, I rode. Frozen trails were just fine once they'd gotten enough traffic to pack them down. Sunny slopes lost their snow-cover straight into the icy air, with very little transitional mud. Mud remained frozen for all but the warmest hours of the warmest days.

Each ride seemed like something just barely possible. As if it should have been uncomfortable. Or too difficult. Or prohibited. But each time. Alone. With friends. With dogs. With long shadows stretching toward the abrupt evenings of winter. Each time it was not difficult. Not uncomfortable. Each time it was possible.

And each time. Outside. Pedaling. Breathing. Sweating. Living. It was completely and utterly satisfying.