Rules Are Made to be Broken

The Rule used to be: No riding in temps below 20F degrees.

After four days of waiting for temperatures in Colorado to rise above 20F degrees (they never did), I finally realized that rules are meant to be broken. As much of a trouble-maker as I am, you'd think I might have figured that one out a bit earlier.

Swathed in new wool socks and new gloves, thanks to Christmas gift certificates to my local bike shop (LBS in the cycling lexicon), I set out on my studded-tire Ice Bike in 12F degrees of numbness and stupidity.

And thrived. No slips, no spills, no frostbike, though the fingertips complained at first, then the toes.

13 miles later, we have a new rule: Cyclists do desperate acts in desperate times. Yeah, that works for me. (Click on photos below to enlarge)

Here's a bike path bridge. Not yet plowed, though that didn't stop Howard -- you might make out his Ice Bike tracks.

Howard, swaddled in multiple layers, and his Raleigh hybrid Ice Bike at the confluence of the Spring Creek trail and the Poudre River trail. (The two rivers conflue as well.)

Here's a bit of the Poudre River. Kokopelli, the Hopi God of Music and Fertility, is visible in the shadows.

Finally, here's a larger view of the Poudre River. Still plenty of open water flowing. And ducks and geese are still in town, though they're laying low, accompanying the temperatures.