Until today. I landed in Indy with temps at 6 Fahrenheit. The roads were covered with ice where the salt had not yet done its work. And the bike was locked up in its usual place. After cycling through the Pretenders for long enough to psych myself up, I headed home into a headwind. Eyes iced shut in a mile before I turned east with the wind at my back. From there it went well until . . . the low traffic on my back roads meant rutted ice. Cycling became one leg cranking and one foot skating.
|Something like this.|