Big Bikes

Ice Floe, Nowhere to Go

I'm little Johnny Frostbite,
movin' around,
freezing you up,
freezing you down like an icicle,
coming in your tent in the pink light scissor bite.
Arctic death,
infinite night.

-The Mighty Boosh
Tundra Rap



It’s here, the clothes I require just to ride to work measure over fifteen feet when laid out to dry, they weigh in excess of five pounds…easy. While riding some part of me is always uncomfortable, too hot too cold, numb, sweating, chafing. For the next few weeks a have access to a car, the temptation to be soft and lazy is there. Must fight the sloth…he’s slow but he has those three incredibly strong claw/toes and whatever he gets a hold of, he’ll pull to his mouth and rip to shreds. At least that’s what I learned from William Burroughs.


Much better weather for sledding really, Lyla seems to think so as well, especially when she gets a lift to the slope.

Just last week it was arm and leg warmer weather, those were the days. This morning I found out just how much it sucks to do your recovery ride into a headwind when it's 28° out. This after not doing anything like a cool down after Wrentham. I would have it was just that it wouldn't have been a cool down so much as a deep freeze. Gotta get the legs going again for The last two Verges this weekend. I'm hoping that they at the very least run the course in two different ways. Maybe one will be completely different from last year's...not my favorite course of all time. Who nows, maybe this looming snow will effect things in a positive way, i.e., totally wreck it and make a bloody mess of it. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.