Just as I was recovering from a particularly awkward slip, I looked up at an older man walking down the road. "You sure are intrepid," he said.
"What to you mean?" I asked, assuming this was a veiled insult about the stupidity of riding a bike on this icy mess of a road.
"Just biking in the snow, that's tough," he said.
"Oh, it's not so bad," I replied.
"I always love to come here," Cheryl said, and her voice brought me back to the present.
"It is a beautiful place," I agreed, and refocused on horizon. Suddenly I felt completely at home.
Sunday: Rest. I had another four-hour ride planned for this day, but we woke up to 8 inches of new snow, and I backed out. I don't have an excuse. I'm not tired, sick, or injured. Discouragement is really all I can claim. I recognize I need to either get over this, or embrace it. Ultimately I think it was a good idea to hit the reset button on this physically taxing week.
Total: 17:17, 5.7 miles run, 91.5 miles ride, 13,718 feet climbing.