Winter Training

What a ride it was—literally and figuratively! That’s me in the top-right, peace sign flashing, headlamp shining, grinning like I’ve just aced a downhill track. The thrill of the night, the crisp Montana air, nothing could beat that feeling meeting up with the Thursday Night Rides-er-Hike.

Alden, Ed, Aaron, Lydia, Julie, and I—we were a tight crew. Those nights under the stars, our laughs echoing through the woods, our breaths misting up in the cold air, it was more than just about biking. It was about the bond, the shared pulse of adventure that throbbed in our collective heartbeat.

And then there’s me again, the other side of the coin, the winter warrior in training. I’d huddle over my laptop, planning routes and strategies, my workspace strewn with maps and snacks—fuel for both the rides and my thoughts. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was the grit behind the glory, the unseen miles that made the seen ones possible.

Training in winter, that’s a different beast altogether. It’s just me, my bike, and the silent snow-covered trails. The solitude is profound, almost sacred. It’s where I’d push myself, where each pedal stroke was a conversation between me and the trail, where the snowflakes dusting my jacket were badges of honor.

This is a pivotal chapter in my life, a blend of camaraderie and solitude, of shared trails and solo treks. The experiences, molding me into the rider I am today—hungry for adventure, yet always ready for the quiet, introspective rides that winter brings. So here’s to the rides, the friends, the training, and the trails—may they always bring out the best in us!