It was colder today than last weekend (-25 ish with a 26 km NW wind for a windchill in the high -30s), so naturally I decided I'd go farther. Well, not naturally. Not naturally at all. I just considered that it would be a good test of equipment, and me. Mostly me. I'm excited about the race, but there are always doubts to contend with. It's better to put your head down and dig in a la Boxer: "I will work harder. [Suffering] is always right." Which was, in fact, half of a two-pronged meditation delivered at church today (glory be I attended church for the first time in about two months and the message fits) in which the pastor quoted Richard Rohr who says, reasonably I think, that there are two ways available to all human being to experience "transformational change" (all right, I admit, that that term right there leaves hanging the question, "change for better or for worse?" and I'm thinking Rohr was thinking "for better" but there's no way of guaranteeing that sort of thing), through great love, or through great suffering. Which begs the question, "If you bring 'great suffering' on yourself, does it count?" Of course I'm inclined to say ... it depends. But it is possible. I believe it. It's my religion. It must be. It's the thing I'm most consistent at in my spiritual endeavours, I bring suffering on myself. At least that's the way I see it, from way over here in "first-world-problem-land." At the end of the ride, I looked like this:
Anyway, it was cold and windy, and I worked harder. I rode 16 miles. For four of those miles I followed dirt roads that are not used in winter (intermittent, and often significant drifting - "sculpted," as Ian so eloquently put it), and for two of those miles I rode the Trans-Canada Trail, which the snowmobilers around here seem to think is fair game for them, despite the signs (just proving that people who sit on their asses and move themselves around by twitching a thumb are indeed illiterate asshats). From this I learned that it's better to ride on snow drifted in and hardened by the wind then it is to follow a snowmobile track, which may or may not hold you and your bike up. The remaining miles were on gravel, with a one mile or so reprieve of pavement and paved trails in town (A-town).
Which brings me to what I learned today.
The bike which looks like this,
works, though I would like to do a parallel ride with a fat bike, just to see. Adjustments from last week's ride are: added bar tape to my "aero" bars (bar-ends that I installed on the centre of the bar, to give me a few options for riding position); strapped and bungied my pannier on top of my seatpost (because it's bigger than most rackbags and seatpost bags, and because it works - for me), and removed the traps on the pedals (which impacts my pedalling efficiency, but makes remounting and starting in the middle of snowpack way easier). By Saturday I'll have added a handlebar bag for a bit more storage - likely for food, and somehow strapped my cue sheep/map bag (Sealline) to the front bars ... somehow.
My face and eyes worked today. What I mean is, I tried petroleum jelly on my face (as a wind barrier) rather than a neoprene mask, which made the goggles stay frost free waaaaaay longer. Although there was some frost on them, and if I was going to try to read the cue sheet I'd have to lift them up, I could use them for the whole ride today. Nice. And it seems, as I write this now, that my cheeks and nose have not been frost-bitten. I did not believe that petroleum jelly would work. Now I believe. Yet another small conversion for this small doubting believer.
My feet were warmer, but not entirely. I was wearing my Sorels, with new inserts, but I needed to stop when I did. It took about 15 minutes after I stopped for them to be right. It was a longer and colder ride, so I'm finding some comfort in that, but now I'm thinking about buying some plastic pedals to reduce the cold transfer. It can't hurt.
The water situation is solved. I bought a 2L Platypus bag (on sale at MEC) and put it into an old "Mountain Gear" camelback knockoff bag (from MCC). I put it on top of my base layer, and then put a thin fleece and wind layer over top, and ran the waterline up my sleeve and clipped it at my wrist. Just over half-way into the ride the waterline worked. It actually seemed warm. I also bought a line insulator for it, but I didn't use it today, and I don't think I'll need too. This set-up was less intrusive than I anticipated. I hardly noticed it at all. Win.
Food. I didn't bring any along, which was a mistake, because I'm going to stop halfway through most of the legs on Saturday and eat something, because, well, food, it does a body good. During the week though I threw a variety of bars, etc, into the freezer to see how hard things would get. My results have led me to decide on using dried figs (still pliant when frozen), Oskri fig bars, and Larabars (though I don't really like them). Each of these are dense with sugars, and stay pliable in the cold. I'm interested in other ideas too, but this is what I've got so far.
Baselayer. I bought a merino wool base layer, and it does keep you feeling warm, even when it's wet, but it doesn't solve the sweaty-wetness problem. I'm scared shitless about how wet I was after this ride. I'm going to bring along numerous dry base-layers to change into, along the way. I'll keep the merino wool on, even when it's wet, but I'll add a dry layer overtop of that, hoping that it will wick up some of the wet and help to keep the chill and shiver out.
Looking forward I love it that the race route has so many turns and changes, and that there aren't many long stretches on one road or trail. The mental distraction of navigating, and changing terrain, will help with managing the discomforts.
Here we go!
