Epic is a word that has been bastardized and diluted to the point where it is almost meaningless. There are days, and experiences, that bring the word back into proper focus.
As I mentioned yesterday, I rolled up to Charlotte (Statesville to be exact) to ride with my buddy Frank and some of his crew. As my latitude headed North this morning, I couldn't help but notice that the temperature on the dash kept heading South.
Once to the meeting spot, it had settled firmly @ 35 degrees. No matter, it was overcast and dry, with zero wind. It was all good.
We headed out a bit after 9 (JM was late...) for the 4-1/2 ish hour jaunt through Iredell and Catawba Counties. The first 3 hours were pleasant and convivial. Then, it started...
First, small ice pellets began falling, increasing in size and severity as we rolled. The beauty? They were dry and bounced off. Shortly thereafter, snow (yes, you read that correctly!) began to enter the (wintry) mix. At first, it was light flurries. These light flurries had higher aspirations though, and quickly turned into BIG, FAT, WET flakes. These lovely little beasts stuck to everything...the road, the grass, our bikes, glasses and clothing.
The road quickly went from dry to very wet and a bit slick. Remember, bridges freeze before roadways...
Cold set in for our little band of merry men, which turned to downright near hypothermia. With 30 minutes left in the ride, I no longer had use of my digits, which meant no holding the bars, no standing to climb, and no shifting...just plugging along, longing for the sweet release of death. We kept passing cattle pastures, which set my frozen little mind wandering, until it settled on a very Star Wars-esque fix for the problem. If I would have had a lightsaber, a lovely heffer would have met her maker, so that I may have crawled inside for warmth.
Once that bad, and admittedly a tad DARK patch passed, we turned back into Lake Norman State Park.
Here's where I received the final cock-punch for the day...
Last hill, just make it up and coast down the other side into the parking lot. Not so much...
I reached for the shifter with my frozen fish stick of a finger, pushed the button and all forward momentum stopped. I guess the chain had enough of the shit weather and let go in not-so-spectacular fashion. Nothing like breaking a chain to end up a ride that could only be called EPIC. At least the German-made rat bastard didn't give up 40 miles from the car...what a plus!
Frank hauled ass to the truck and came back for me.
I changed clothes and headed back for Cola. Once thawed a bit, I shook uncontrollably for nearly 45 minutes. Yeah, that cold...
Rules #5 and #9 were definitely in play today.
Overall though, it was a great loop with great guys. I'll go back and do it again, if they'll have me. That being said, if it snows again, screw you guys!
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