Early Saturday morning, I arrived home and parked my vehicle on the road. There was a foot of the white, fluffy stuff waiting for me. I walked down the quarter-mile driveway to the garage and immediately started up the snow blower.

It was my hope that the job wouldn’t take too long, but that was way too much to ask. Since the snow was so deep, I had to do the job quite slowly, and I had to clear as much as possible. It took me a total of three hours before I could walk back to the end of the driveway to get my vehicle.

Three hours!

I know that many people think I’m crazy for maintaining such a long driveway with a snow blower. Well, I am crazy. I’ve learned that a tad bit of insanity mixed with good humor is necessary in coping with reality. Fortunately, my three-hour stroll down my driveway included beautiful weather with pastel skies. It was a beautiful sight. It made the snow blowing more enjoyable.

I took the exam, ate the sandwich, and redressed to head up the great Houghton hill to the body shop where my Pathfinder was eagerly awaiting repair. I opened the door and grabbed my groceries from last week. I was pretty excited because I was finally going to bring home the much-needed maple syrup and the Thanksgiving pumpkin pie – delicious, Sara Lee frozen paaaaaaiiiiiiiie, as Eric Cartman would say.

I filled my backpack with the groceries. I quickly realized my situation and began laughing as I stared at the Cool Whip peering out at me from the backpack. This whole situation really is funny: car accident -> several days hoping for a loaner vehicle -> preparation for a winter commute -> acquisition of groceries in the body shop parking lot. If you had just suffered my situation, wouldn’t you laugh, too? Maybe it was just a stress laugh, but I couldn’t stifle it. In every perceivably bad situation, there is usually something completely absurd.

Since the ride down was actually quite enjoyable, I thought the ride back up would also be fun. Although, I knew from plenty of summer experiences that the ride back up the Hancock hill was always miserable to a certain degree. Yesterday was no exception.

Like a good, little, commuter cyclist, I opted for the road portion of the bridge as opposed to the sidewalk. It was perfectly fine heading toward Houghton earlier in the day, so I figured it would be fine heading back, and it was…for the most part. The east side of the bridge had puddles of water forming right where I needed to put my bike. I couldn’t really take the lane because I was going pretty slowly – low-pressure mountain bike tires. I tried to ride through the shallow parts of the puddles. My bum still got soaked.

After reaching the Hancock side, I hopped on the sidewalk and took that to downtown. I rode through town and tried to get back on the snowmobile trail, but the heavily-trafficked rail-to-trail was getting slushy – probably also in part from the water being sprayed up by nearby vehicles. I took some side roads up a couple of blocks and got back on the trail. I figured out that I had to get my feet on the peddles while nearly doing a trackstand, and the weight from sitting on the bike allowed me to slowly start pedaling with some tire grip. It worked nicely.

As I climbed the rail-to-trail uphill – it is uphill almost all the way to my house for several miles – big, fluffy snowflakes began to fall in great numbers. I noticed my tire tracks from a couple hours prior had been hidden beneath a fresh layer of snow. It was quickly getting dark and I saw that the hunters were heading out. I needed to get home, fast. The only problem is that I found my speed dwindled considerably with the new conditions. I was going 3.5 mph at one point, and I got a little excited when I hit 4.5 mph. I think I topped out at 6 mph on that trail. It was very difficult, but I just kept pedaling, and I tried to keep it at an enjoyable effort.

I was relieved when I finally got to my road. I stopped, dropped my backpack, and dug out my bottle full of Heed. I was very thirsty and was extremely grateful to begin drinking. As luck would have it, the Heed ran out after a few swallows. I drank a lot more of it than I thought when I was at Tech. That wasn’t exactly what I was going for, but I was almost home and I knew that I would run straight to the sink for a couple glasses of water. I hopped back on the bike and proceeded up my road (yes – up, again).

The ride came to a close shortly after I scared a couple of large deer that were hanging out in my driveway. They were black silhouettes that looked like something out of a decades-old Disney cartoon.

The maple syrup made it just fine. The pumpkin pie, on the other hand, will not live to see another day. It had melted and began oozing within the plastic bag I had the foresight to store it in.

***
Ride stats: 2 hr 45 min; 19+ miles
Weather: 32°F, 11 mph wind, snow

Clothes: Breathable base layer shirt, oversized Nike t-shirt, downhill ski coat; bike shorts, cross country ski pants, baggy Nike pants; thin socks, thick, loose socks, snow boots; bulky winter gloves (for downhill skiing), bandana, neck gator, helmet

I felt very comfortable in these clothes. I did sweat, but never got chilled.

It’s going to snow, Sunday. That means one thing: it’s time to ride.

I have some great dirt roads around my house that I’d like to explore. I plan to ride my mountain bike because, well, you never know where you’ll end up.

Group ride – Sunday afternoon – 3:00 – my house. [Directions to my house inserted here.]

This is just a fun, social thing, so don’t be afraid to join in. I’m not looking to set any speed records. Simple appetizer/dessert potluck to follow with coffee and hot cocoa. Nothing big – just fun.

Please let me know if you’re coming.

Thanks!

Di

I didn’t get many responses. One person wanted to come out, but she needed to carpool. No one from her area came. Another person told me he might, but he had to see how the waves were (yes, he said waves). My teammate, Pat, told me he would be there unless it was a hard rain. Well, I purposely chose a day that it was going to snow, so Pat came. Dan was a surprise. He didn’t tell me he was coming, but I was very happy to have him show up.

Once upon a Sunday afternoon, Pat, Dan, and Diane headed out on their expensive, full suspension, mountain race bikes to ride on the snow-covered roads around Di’s house in the Keweenaw Peninsula. Some of you may be shaking your heads and thinking we’re weird just about now. Well, please allow me to clarify: we are weird.

We had a good ride and we were all happy that we met up to do this. I knew that if I didn’t make a commitment to other people, I would not ride. The fact that I chose to do this got Pat and Dan out. We hit a couple of the roads around my house and even hit a short, beautiful stretch of two-track that used to be a trolley line. I had no idea, but it was pretty cool learning that we had a trolley. We hit the snowmobile trail back to my road and braved the crosswind to my house. Dan had to leave right away, but Pat and I sat down for a couple beers, some chips, and a little zucchini bread.

It was a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon with the sun peaking through the clouds as the snowflakes fell from the sky.

***

I figured I would make note of the weather conditions and the clothing I wore with some comments about how I felt. I thought this might be useful for figuring out what to wear in the future.
* Cycling shorts and cross country ski pants – perfect
* Patagonia medium weight Capilene base layer, Red Jacket cyclocross jersey, light jacket – was great until we hit a crosswind
* Cross country ski gloves – excellent until about an hour into the ride and it got windy
* Thin ski socks, cycling socks, cycling shoes – fine until we hit the crosswind

Weather conditions: 26°F; feels Like 18°F; 8 mph from NNW

Today was the second day of snow accumulation in the Keweenaw. I drove Amanda home to Copper Harbor. It was a little tricky. The roads were getting covered and the snowplows were out.

We found ourselves traveling behind a Keweenaw County snow plow on the covered road leading to Copper Harbor.

Amanda and I decided to have a little fun and go for a hike. We took the dogs to the cemetery in Copper Harbor and walked around. It really didn’t take much time. There aren’t very many grave markers in the tiny cemetery, but there were markers that were waiting for certain people to pass on. This was quite odd because we know many of these people and have had a beer or many with them.

Our next stop was the park right in Copper Harbor. This is the park where many events take place, including the Copper Harbor Fat Tire Festival. A little one-room schoolhouse sits next to the park, and is the home of a great display of playground equipment, including monkey bars, a merry-go-round, and teeter totters. We teeter tottered for a while, then moved onto the slides – they have a twisty one and a little straight one. It was great fun playing in the park in our snow pants and coats. It was just like being a kid, again.

Beauty can be found even in the harshest weather. Here, the trees surrounding the Copper Harbor cemetery offered protection from the wind blowing off of Lake Superior.

We put the dogs in the car and walked across the street to the Mariner. I wanted to see who was there. It was only a handful of people, but the conversation was light-hearted and enjoyable while I enjoyed my iced tea and Amanda sipped on her Sprite. The weird part was when we walked out. Walking out of the Mariner is something we’ve done a lot of this year. We would open the door and see a parking lot with cars and trucks sporting snazzy bike racks with expensive bikes. We didn’t expect to see them, but it hit us both funny when we didn’t see the hustle and bustle of mountain bikers in town. It was dead.

We ended our weekend with a healthy and tasty dinner before I set off for home down the lonely, snow-covered road. While driving to and from Copper Harbor, I found myself amazed at the beauty of this transformational event. The snow-covered trees and cliffs were almost divine, while the windy, snow-covered roads were to be respected.

The Keweenaw offers spectacular views and plenty of opportunities for fun, outdoor activities. A snowmobile trail goes along the cliffs seen here from Cliff Drive.

I couldn’t help thinking, however, about cycling. Winter riding isn’t really a sport that is embraced up here, mostly because it is difficult to find safe winter roads and the trails are covered with several feet of snow. Many of the area cyclists are skiers who mountain bike in the summer to keep in shape. Then there are people like me who are mountain bikers who ski to stay in shape.

One thing is for sure – while I look for different ways to keep my legs cycling-ready, I fully intend to feed my adventurous side by taking in all that the Keweenaw has to offer. It is truly a winter wonderland.

I had my pizza at the Ambassador that night. As I traveled from one place to another, I took note of the snow accumulation on my Pathfinder. Every time I went outside, I had to brush 1 ½ – 2 inches of snow off my windshield. I found it quite amusing.

Shortly thereafter, I moved to Houghton to begin working in my new position in my new hometown. It didn’t take long for another hospital employee to introduce me to cross country skiing. Before I knew it, I was attempting to skate ski. Not much time passed before I actually was skate skiing, although it wasn’t pretty.

I fell in love with Houghton-Hancock that January in 2006. I fell in love with that winter wonderland – how the snow softly fell, the exhilaration brought on by the crisp air, the matted crunch of the snow as I walked or snowshoed. It was another world – one of sweet serenity.

It was my fairly young love of winter that brought back me back to the Upper Peninsula, among other things. I mourned the loss of the snow that spring as I thought about what I could do in the summer while awaiting the return of winter. Mountain biking basically hit me in the face that May.

This summer has been cool. It wasn’t the summer of the last couple years – hot and dry. I kept longing for the return of those endless days of ideal mountain biking. They never really came. We had hot days here and there, but it wasn’t enough to fulfill my need of summers past. That’s why this fall hasn’t been as joyful as previous. I usually find fall to be my favorite time of year, and I really did enjoy this fall, but my longing for that ideal summer made me dread the coming of winter…until today.

I awoke to the sprinkling of a light snow – the first of the year. Although I didn’t think I was ready for it, I found myself rather calm and complete with its arrival. I breakfasted, packed my things, and headed off to class. As I drove to Tech, the feelings of the 2006 winter returned to me. I quickly realized that I had fallen in love with Houghton during a snowfall, and that feeling of love had returned to me today.

I didn’t ride yesterday or today, so I am getting dangerously close to laziness. If I don’t ride tomorrow, I will have motivational issues. The problem is the weather.

I have posted a ride on the Red Jacket forum for tomorrow at 1:00 pm. The temperature is expected to be 35 degrees, and the wind about 18 mph. I could handle 35, but 18 mph along with it? Uh, no. I am canceling the ride.

In fact, the next three days are cold with snow expected. I most likely am not going to ride. I’ll probably throw on my winter clothes and take the dogs for a walk. I don’t have class until Wednesday, which is expected to be nice with a high in the 40s and partly cloudy. I can do that. I will ride to my exams that day.

Summer really is just around the corner. The calendar tells me so. I just have to keep telling myself that.

I was willing to forego our ride, today, but Pat insisted that we were going to ride since we just drove 550 miles to get here. We met up with two of his friends and ended up having a great ride. Halfway through the ride, I was smiling and laughing and thinking, “Wow! What a great trail for the first mountain bike ride of the year!”

With all the snow in the Keweenaw, mountain biking is a slightly distant thought, but there’s a race tomorrow at Pontiac Lake. This is why we fought the blizzard to be here.

This is US-41 just south of Calumet during the blizzard. Look carefully. There is a plow truck in front of the pickup truck.

This is US-41 between Chassell and Baraga.

There is something strangely beautiful about the Keweenaw Bay at its worst.

The Keweenaw Bay. The white-capped waves look small. In reality, they were at least three feet high.

We were expecting to get pretty muddy at PLRA. We wanted before and after pictures.

This is what the guys looked like after the ride.

They felt like they were in a lineup because I made them turn for another picture.

It is rare to see a full day with a 100% chance of precipitation. I find it quite humorous.

I will be traveling through a blizzard with blowing snow creating conditions of decreased visibility due to whiteout conditions . . . just to get to a mountain bike race.

How is that for dedication!

The fact is I know better. When living in the Upper Peninsula, expecting not to see any snow in early April is a pipe dream. Just as the wheel tracks in my driveway were opening up to muddy potholes, the heavy, wet snow began falling from the sky. Driving down my driving, I noticed how beautiful the view was. Two inches have fallen already. The bright side is that I no longer have to scrutinize the ground for dog poop as I walk out to my garage. Two little dachshunds are poo machines that contribute excessive fertilization of the non-existent lawn surrounding the entryway to my house. Not only does the snow make this natural fertilizer highly visible, it covers the existing fertilizer that I diligently sidestep.

A great benefit of snow is the high visibility of the dog poo one wishes to avoid stepping in.

Spring fever? Check. Sick of snow? Check. Need exercise? Check, check, check, exclamation point! It’s not that I don’t enjoy the snow and no longer want to ski. It’s that I’m tired of throwing on layers of clothing and driving to the nearest ski trail for fun. I’d much rather leave my front door with minimal preparation to get my exercise. It’s time for a compromise. I am going to weight train instead.

I have been weight training at Michigan Tech since January and showing wonderful results in strength gains. I haven’t been going lately because I’ve been riding, or at least trying to ride in between snow and rainfalls. I also believe it is time to go on a maintenance program since riding season has officially begun, even though there is snow on the ground. Snow or no snow, it is here. Heck, my first race is this coming Sunday.

Today, my friend, Pat, and I took our cyclocross bikes out for a road ride. We stopped off at McLain State Park and road some snow and enjoyed the view.

Di riding with her Kona Jake the Snake and Pat’s Redline cross bikes. Lake Superior is covered with snow in the background with deep blue waters in the greater depths.

After a brief stint at McLain, we headed up Calumet Water Works Road for a much needed spring climb. It is a two mile gradual climb with some varying grades and no descents. Pat and I made it to the top in good form. This is a great road to ride down on a hot day. There is usually a breeze coming off of Lake Superior, and the view is absolutely spectacular!

The road to the right is Calumet Water Works and M-203 is to the left. You can see Lake Superior on the horizon of both roads. Pat is riding up M-203.

We returned to McLain State Park via M-203, a nice, rolling ride. I drafted Pat and had a nice ride all the way down as Pat broke the wind for me. Once we got to McClain, he veered off the road onto the trail that is packed with ski tracks. “What are you doing? You’re crazy!” I said as I pondered turning my bike around to follow him.

“What? It’s rideable. Come on.” I directed my bike off the pavement and onto the snow trail. Ever hear of crust skiing? It’s when skate skiers enjoy the crusty, springtime snow and can skate in fields rather than rolled trails without sinking. Well, this was crust cycling.

Pat riding the McLain State Park trail. We were riding on a trail packed with about one to two feet of snow. Still, it’s easier than riding through the sandy cyclocross courses in the UP.

We hit the pavement again and headed for Waasa Road. The special thing about Waasa is the super steep hill where it meets M-203. It’s one hell of a climb. I tackled it in my uncle gear – that’s what I call the easiest gear on my cross bike that isn’t nearly as easy as the granny gear on my mountain bike. It was an incredible challenge for me. I’ve made it up once before. I huffed and puffed and pulled back on the handlebars with each pedal stroke using my whole body to muscle up the hill. As I was huffing and puffing and at my max and using all the brainpower I could to get to the top of that hill, I was watching Pat bunny hopping, trackstanding, and doing wheelies as he slowly climbed with me.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Pat said as we reached the top of the hill.

“Ya, sure,” I said. “I’m huffing and puffing and giving it all I’ve got and you’re bunny hopping up the hill!” Pat let out a jovial laugh. He loves laughing at my pain. I wish you could’ve seen it.

After that climb, we geared down and took an easy ride back to my house. Twenty-six and a half miles in just under three hours. The weather was wonderful in the heat-strokish 30s Fahrenheit and we were in our glory as the sun beat down on us. It was just another day in the Keweenaw.