Coup de grâce Ride
The phrase can refer to the final event
that causes a figurative death. After a winter that held all of us
so tightly without reprieve, a day in the mid fifties would finally
be it's end. Anticipating the season's impending passing, fatbikes
would have to roll early to catch that small window of riding
opportunity. Temps barely dipped below freezing overnight, but
enough to firm the remaining snow and allow the big tires to float on
top. A week previous, we could ride the crust everywhere, but the
power of the late March sun ate away the surface integrity and now we
were left with just ribbons of ice and snow on singletrack. Which is
okay too.
It's been a long winter to be
sure-record cold and snow and no typical thaw at any point. Our
snowbike trails held up great and afforded us a lot of riding, even
in below zero temps. In fact, at those cold temperatures, riding was
preferred over skiing, where glide would be non existent. This year
has really seen the sport of fatbiking explode and more and more
riding opportunities are popping up around the state. The Midwest
has been called the “Fatbike Mecca” in some national
publications and I agree. That fact was illustrated in how many
different brands were represented on this final winter ride- six
manufacturers toed the starting line- defiantly mainstream now.
Even at an early hour, it seemed the
sun immediately started softening the snow-especially on the south
side of Levis Mound. Scattered oak leaves soak up the heat and burn
postholes in the trail making for a bumpy ride even on big soft
tires. Any thought of an nice easy spin was gone as our gang of ten
mashed the pedals just to move forward. Switching from singletrack
to an old ski trail made pedaling a bit easier until reaching an
incline facing the sun-then I found it a challenge to keep traction
and the lungs in my chest.
A freshly groomed skate ski trail still
remained hard, so that provided an autobahn stretch to click off a
few miles to a more shaded bike trail. Our favorite winter trail is
Yellowjacket and on this day, some of it was buffed smooth and fast,
others a grinder as the surface gave way to the warming sunshine. At
the tail end, we gave up, left the struggling behind and finished the
ride on the deserted ski trail.
In the end it was perfect, the chatter
among friends resumed as we rode in close quarters finally spinning
easily. As deemed appropriate, the group finished with one last climb
and a blistering frost flying downhill race to the chalet. The
consummate end of a great snowbike season. The post ride discussion
revolved around the new bikes laying scattered in the parking lot, of
brakes and fat tires and of maybe finally riding dirt again soon. I
wasn't as keen on the last topic for I love winter riding. I love
the pure white around me and the quiet and softness when I hit the
perfect day of riding. There was a bit of melancholy when I hoisted
the bike into the truck, knowing it'd be 9 months until we had this
chance again. It felt like we truly did put the winter to bed and
I'm glad I could share the day with so many new and old friends and
look forward to the chance to do it all again.
