Home

Wally the giraffe and I have made it safely home, although not without a little excitement. After I took advantage of one last sunny bike ride in the morning, we left San Diego about 3 pm on Monday. Thanks to high speed limits(In Utah you can drive 80 in the flat spots, but they do make you take it down to 75 for the turns.)  and good weather, we made it to Green River, UT that night. (Even with one last dinner at IN n OUT in Vegas.) We hit the road the next morning, ready to make tracks again.

When we hit CO, I noticed signs every few miles warning commercial trucks that they were required to have chains for MM 178, Vail Pass. Until about MM 150, I assumed MM 178 stood for some side road to Vail. I mean, really, it wasn't even snowing where I was. 

Somewhere between mile marker 150 and 160, I realized that the whole MM 178 thing stood for mile marker 178 on the road I was on, I-70. I decided maybe I should at least pull over and exchange my flip flops for shoes. 

Because who really wants to be the dumbass from Cali that skids off the road in the snow, can't find her shoes and has to push her car out wearing flip flops? 

Literally ten minutes after I changed into shoes I drove from weather that involved just a few flakes, into this:

(Although this is actually after the snowplow passed us and cleared the road a little.)

Apparently I wasn't the only dumbass because I saw a trucker putting chains on his rig in shorts and a t-shirt.

Basically, for nearly two hours, we crept along hoping not to drive into the ditch. Thankfully, the snowplow finally passed us and threw down some gravel, which was a relief because at that point I was stuck behind a constantly fish-tailing Lexus driven by a woman so terrified she didn't realize that she might stand a chance of ending the fish-tail if she would just drive over 10 mph. Ever tried to drive uphill in the snow at only 10 mph? We all fish-tailed except the snowplow.

I know what you're thinking- why not just pull over? Easier said than done when every exit and rest area are completely snowed in. Rather than risk being stuck along the road, I chose to sneak in behind the ski resort shuttle van and drive it out. I figured no one else on the road had driven in snow as much as that poor guy. Plus, I figured the mini van would handle as least as well as his van in the snow.

Mr. Shuttle Driver delivered us safely down the other side of the pass and we played tag with the storm the rest of the trip. Thank goodness I put the all season tires on before this trip!

Memories

Today was the day to open up the storage unit that flooded last month. It didn't look bad when I opened it and I was so excited to get my bike out that I didn't notice the smell at first. Once the excitement wore off though, the smell kicked in. Something smelled moldy.

Turns out a lot of stuff was moldy.

You know how a lot of us have a box, that box that's full of all the sentimental stuff? Mine is now also full of mold. Unfortunately this thing had to go in the dumpster.

Fortunately this little gem was saved. 

Now you know the workings of my six year old mind. I liked big commas and apostrophes I guess. That and my parents. As long as they loved me, that is.

Arrival

After 4 days and 2600 miles, San Diego just sort of snuck up on me. I have a feeling that I'm sneaking in one last moment of calm before the storm of old friends rushes in. Track practice starts in 45 minutes. My legs probably won't work, but my mouth will probably never stop moving.

The trip started Sat. morning with a little mountain bike race spectating. It was in the 20's. There was snow. I put on all my warm stuff and ran out to find a place to take pictures and waited for orange. The Latitude 45 jerseys are orange. I got some great pics.

Too bad I don't know these guys. Wrong orange jersey. Of course, when the right one finally went by, I didn't have the camera ready.

So I ran back to the car in hopes of a finish pic. After car ride, a bus ride and a mad dash off the bus when it got stuck in traffic, I found a spot near a corner by the finish where I knew I could at least get a heads up when the orange jersey came my way.

Nope, that's still not the right orange jersey, but it did finally come by, making a sprint for the finish.

No crashes, no wrong turns, no broken bike....

Just a lot of mud.

A couple of hours later, I was back on the road, headed straight south in search of a warm place to sleep for the night. I found it four states later at 4 am. 

Three days later, I made it here, waiting for track. I even survived a crazy night in the desert with the best bud last night. My abs still hurt from laughing.....

The Forecast

Saturday I leave for San Diego to rescue my goods (primarily a certain 6 foot tall giraffe) from storage. The Friday forecast for Petoskey:  

I arrive in San Diego next Wednesday. The Wednesday forecast for San Diego:

Could I really ask for anything better? A little dose of snow right before I get to escape to sunny, 70 and my long lost and much missed road bike....

Now I just have to remember to pack my bathing suit....