A cold day in hell
Marcus and I went for a "brisk" bike ride this morning.
I know, I know, I WAS wearing a helmet, but it somehow got swallowed up by the flames. I also know I said this last week, but I don't think I've ever been so cold. In true Canadian fashion, Marcus was wearing bike shorts for our bone-chilling bike ride and felt "fine." We started up Grizzly Peak and came down the other side for about 2 miles of pure hell - on a blisteringly cold decline that is benignly known as Pinehurst - this, through the fog and mist (never again)!! This was followed by the Wildcat Canyon incline, which allowed my body temperature to return to near normal. My new rule for California riding is to go on as few downhill sections as possible. This rule will perhaps be altered by March.