Imagine my disappointment when, instead of facing glorious arctic hardships along the iditarod Trail while photogeeking the racers and locals all doing their thing, I found myself facedown and shivering inside my sleeping bag as a microscopic bug with a pissy attitude wreaked havoc inside my gut.
I didn't make it very far. And I didn't get many pics along the way. Meh.
Here's one to tide you over--two riders pushing a stiff headwind on the approach to Rainy Pass.
Home now, trying to get healthy.
In between catching up on emails and getting back into the wheelbuilding swing of things, I've been working on a lot of projects left over from 2010.
Here's the latest--our annual midwinter escape to AZ. The point of this trip is never to cover miles, never to flog ourselves into a stupor, never to race hither and thither. The point is simply to be outside with some exposed skin, and to have a little fun on the bikes. We ride until we get to something that we can't ride: A big rock, a series of ledges, a tricky switchback--whatever. Then we attempt it repeatedly until we figure it out, bleed, or cry uncle. Then we move on to the next.
Nothing more to it than that.