Newness is here.
Tomorrow we move to Kelowna from West-Kelowna (or Westbank or the OK Hills, whatever). I'll have to be a diligent athlete once again now that I can no longer rely on an crazy hilly commute (no more climbing 600m in under 17km just to get home).
G and I felt pretty isolated in the boonies surrounded by people many decades older than us. It did have a gorgeous view, was quiet and served us well. We will miss it somewhat.
All I can think of right now is how awesome my new garage is going to be. Oh, ya and it is one block from Gyro beach. Everyone tells me that dark sunglasses are a must when one frequents this locale. Not sure why yet.
With the new George W. Bush daylight savings time change passed us, I cannot believe how fast spring has changed things in the Okanagan. The goft courses are almost green, the roads are being cleaned, the quails are back and the best part is that I don't need to ride with Neoprene booties anymore (or so I thought).
A few weeks back I figured it would be a good idea to go for a long ride solo up the 97C connector. This road starts in Westbank and is an unrelenting 6% steady climb up to Pennask Summit (from 350m elevation to 1728m). Seeing that this is a nice divided highway with a nice shoulder and it was about 5 degrees at lake level, I thought it would be OK up higher; just cloud cover, nothing extreme. Who knows, maybe I would even punch above the clouds the higher I climbed. I was being optimistic.
I will preface this with a couple of facts:
When one is climbing hard on a bike, one generates lots of heat and stays warm. When one is climbing hard on a bike, one tends to ignore their surroundings somewhat.
Well, the higher up I went, the thicker the clouds got. The snow started to appear on the sides of the road at about 900m high. At 1300m I was now riding through snow. I was in full on climbing mode so I simply kept on pedaling. At 1500m I was in a snow storm and I could no longer see farther ahead than 100m. "OK, maybe I should turn around now."
Almost immediately when I cross the highway to begin my descent(carefully!), a snowplow passes me and the driver gives me a very bewildered look. I was very out of place and should have known what I was about to experience next. All the sweat I had built up on the climb instantly turned ice cold. My feet are soaked right through, my face is being plastered with road grit, slush and salt (getting in between my teeth nice and good in the process) and my fingers are beginning seize up as if I am suffering from arthritis. Oh crap. I'm COLD!
Now I have gone xc skiing in -40 (C or F take your pick) and I was comfortable as I was dressed for the occasion. Skiing with huge mitten, goggles, bank robber mask, toque and many layers of clothing is fine. Riding down a snowy mountain pass at 60km/hr with leg and arm warmers, mini gloves and sunglasses at 0 degrees C was infinitely more painful (until I lost at sensation and was numb to the pain). After three kilometers of descending, I willed my fingers to grasp the brake levers. I slowly skimmed off speed and rolled to a stop. Once dismounted, I proceeded to do jumping jacks for 15 minutes until I could feel my appendages. Seeing that I had no cell phone service and no cars where in sight, I again willed my body back onto the bike and proceeded to coast down another three kilometers before repeating the jumping jack process again. Not fun. Eventually, I made it back to where the snow subsided and just dragged my frozen carcass home. I was hurting pretty good and my entire body was now a Popsicle.
Very important lesson learned that day: Do not climb up a mountain pass on a road bike with summer road bike clothing in the winter (even if it is the end of winter). Stupid, stupid me.
Anyhow, no permanent damage was done (except to my ego for having to do jumping jacks for an extended period of time) and the following weekend I was in sunny Vancouver (its sunny in Van, right?) for the first bike races of the year. So much earlier than I'm used to. Usually, the last weekend of March is associated with Mt. Sharkfest ski races. Well, not in southern BC! Spring Series bike races are something I have read about but they always seemed like some sort of myth for those of us in Alberta.
Let me debunk this myth and tell you all that spring series races are real and they are full on!
A few kilometers into Saturday's race along the US border in Langley, I was quite happy to be back in the peleton suffering along side former teammates, new teammates and rivals. All comrades. Its going to be a long season but I'm already looking forward to pinning on that number many more times.