As summer reluctantly gives way and the impending doom of school hovers, Mo and I find ourselves reminiscing about that daring, borderline-insane fat biking escapade we undertook at Whitefish Lake last March. The freezing winds tried to freeze our enthusiasm, much like the falling leaves foretell the cold grip of the reality of time. Now, in the grim shadow of back-to-school mayhem, we fondly recall those frozen moments as we prepare to change our tires to studded fat bikes again.
Boneshakerbike 
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