And where did I decide to go this beautiful Feb 22? After a ride on Love, first thing in the morning, I strapped the snowshoes on the BMW and headed to Angeles Crest Highway, hoping for a place to use them. My favorite place to ride, but getting there isn't something I want to highlight.
None of the weekend riders were on hwy 2 and snow was just as scarce. The forestry roads were unlocked with gates wide open. They were all closed last summer when I first discovered this ride. Not a lot of snow this year, except in the shade. So, I started off on a dirt road which was only 6 miles to the small village of Lone Pine. It was warm and dry, then the road wrapped around the hill to the north side and a patch of snow was in front of me. 100 yards, shouldn't be a problem. For any one else maybe, within 40 feet the back tire slipped on the icy slush and the bike went down, cracking my ankle on the aluminum panniers. Sliding out from under I switch the key off and stood up. Shaky and weak, I tried to lift the bike, it was not budging. There was a banana in my back pack, a little bit of brain food as I looked at all the possibilities. I lifted the bike once before so I was pretty sure I could get it back up. Wasn't happening. Scooting the scooter to face up hill, since it was decided, there would probably be more patches between here and the final mile, up hill would be better for me to drive, no brake required. Again I tried to upright the bike, with the right footing, it popped up, threw my leg over the seat and started it, released the clutch and the rear tire spun. Off the bike, more situation look over, moving the snow from in front of the back tire and slipping myself on the slushed over ice, since the snow was only on the road, pine needles were gathered and a path made to the end of the dirt...the whole situation was rectified in less then 30 minutes. Nicely done, if it wasn't corrected on my own, it was a mile walk to the highway and wait for a traffic car that might be able to help me. And probably a lecture from a stranger that I shouldn't be on a dirt road in the first place.
It was a great ride. New roads discovered and new lessons learned.
Even at 52.
