Snowedout


Now that I’m a real adult and do things like go to my friends’ weddings, drink top shelf, well-crafted bourbon, and use a nose hair trimmer I often think of the word “snow day” as an excuse to bitch about having to clean the snow off my car for my one mile commute to work. Well, when that “snow day” falls on an off day…what’s there to do than realize that I’m actually nowhere near the adult stage of my life and get totally rad on slushy streets and frozen wading ponds?!

Michael roused me from my slumber at noon and said, “Snow ride!” That means: snow pants, too many layers, cold hands, brickfoot, and NO BRAKES! Seriously…if you don’t have disc brakes, good luck coming to a stop at a reasonable distance after barreling down from Mt. Adams.


As you can see, our bikes are stoked to be at the top of the world and may or may not plunge over the retaining wall in The Celestial’s parking lot. We were hoping to trudge up some unplowed streets, but we realized that a good deal of Cincinnati’s tax dollars come from this neck of the woods and the streets were perfectly clean. We settled for pushing our sleds up Hill St. (K: 22×22, M: 32×18) and going down the hill sans brakes. After all, we need to practice our descending for next spring season in order to beat Glenn Wolf down those sick KY hills.