Two Wheel Blogs

I've not been blogging because all the riding I've been doing has been on the stationary bike at the Y. I've been going there a lot, whenever I can really, churning out the hours while watching the NFL playoffs, "Simpsons" reruns, the NBC Thursday night lineup -- anything to take my mind off the monotony of pedaling without going anuwhere.

Today, it was warm, and it wasn't raining -- finally. So, mindful that the Highland Memorial Biathalon is four months away, I first did a run on the Nickel Plate trail (where else?). After that, I decided it was finally time to ride outside in January for the first time in my life. It was windy, and the road surfaces were still damp, so I chose to ride my cyclocross bike instead of my road bike. I figured I'd take the Delyte Morris bike trail out to the SIU campus, then do a couple of climbs on Whitesides, then head home. Nothing too strenuous. So I headed off.

Five minutes, I had crossed over Poag Road was on the Delyte Morris trail, heading down the hill to the wooden bridge that crosses a small creek before the trail heads up a hill into the woods. I applied the brakes to slow my speed as I approached the bridge. Ahead I could see a muddy patch where the far end of the bridge joined the tail. I was picking the path I would take through the muddy patch when, suddenly, I felt my wheels starting to slide out from underneath me. I wasn't going too fast, so I reached for the handrail, hoping to catch myself before falling. But it was too late. I landed flat on my ... on my round part. "Great," I consoled myself, "this is your first time on your cyclocross bike in a month and you're already in mid-season form.

I remounted and, my left flank smarting from the impact, I strated a slow climb up the very muddy bike trail. The trail was a sloppy mess. I was glad when I finally got to Whitesides and could climb on the gravel shoulder next to the road. I did my three climbs, then took a different trail back home. I was not going back the way I'd come. In all, I was out for maybe an hour. It wasn't much of a ride -- or much of a fall, for that matter. But it was the first time, I believe, that I'd ever ridden a bike in January, and I will always remember it for that reason.