Warning: this post does not contain any cute babies. If you're looking for one of those, you'll just have to wait for another moment of fatherly pride to overcome me. My sincerest apologies for your disappointment.
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| "Well, if you were directly above him, how could you see him?" "Because I was inverted." |
Today, at lunchtime, I went for a dad-ride. This is a great milestone, much like yesterday being the first time Tav went to Costco. I think I got the better deal.
It's been too deep and fluffy to ride bikes in the snow lately, so I've been running in it. Logical folks out there might point out that I should be going skiing - but I can't do that immediately from our house (though who knows the way the snow is building), so I haven't. So there. However, last night brought in some heavy, wet snow that compacted all the fluff and resulted in my most exhilarating fat bike ride to date. I have the following notes to share:
- The rut is my friend - as are all the dogs in Vernon who encourage their owners to go for walks and pack down the trail.
- I am able to live out my fantasies of drifting all over the place like a silent Ken Block, without the obnoxious car and energy drinks.
- I am able to do all the things grown-up mountain bikers don't do, without guilt. For example, today I did an infinite number of flamboyant skids and rode off the trail all over the place for fun. All evidence will be erased forever with the next snow. Like magic.
- I can try things I don't have the guts for on a real bike... like full-speed (about 2 km/h in the snow) drifts into corners with my feet clipped in.
So there you have it. Fat bikes - they're good for something.
Wait...
I feel a strange new emotion coming over me...
What can this be....
Oh right, that one.
