Bitch, bitch, bitch.

So why haven’t I been riding this past week?

Because I live in Missouri, that’s why. In the past five days, we’ve had a severe snow warning, a severe sleet warning, a severe ice warning, a severe flood warning, and today we’ve had a visibility of nearly zero – something like 100 feet – due to the dense fog that is blanketing the area. Oh, and I see that we’re now calling for severe thunderstorm warnings. I’m relatively certain that locusts and plague cannot be far behind.

I’m bored. All of my winter bike projects are completed, other than the stray odd or end upon whose arrival in the mail I now impatiently await. Even those will offer small solace – after all, how long is it going to take to replace a set of brake pads? I’ve polished all the bikes and now I’m debating a minimal disassembly of the Freschi so that I can clean the Campy bits and pieces and buff them up.

Mother Nature teased us mercilessly following the blizzards of January, giving us a taste of spring weather. The roads even dried out enough that I managed to get in a decent test ride of the Colnago, and a 40+ mile ride on the Synapse. Other than that, however, outdoor rides have been few and far between, and astride a beater touring mountain bike. It’s covered with road grime, as are the shoes and other duds I wear when I ride it. Gray seems to be the color of winter, bike, and me right now: the only thing of a different hue is my attitude, which is black as night.

I can barely bring myself to mount the trainer each day. What’s the point in riding but not going anywhere?


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