The Dirt On The Snow

The novelty of snow in Portland has become the norm. There is a good 12" with a solid inch of ice smack in the middle of the accumulation from a freezing rain a few nights ago. Wind has pushed some of the snow into some big piles in different parts of the yard or against the cars, etc. I wouldn't say Portland is shut down, just that the landscape has changed.

It's been 10 days or so now of regular accumulation. Even the media folks are tiring of themselves. I always wonder in these events what the line is between actual news/journalism and some moron standing on the side of a shut down highway reminding a television audience who'd rather be watching something else, that it is cold, windy and snowing in Troutdale. One local station shows Youtube clips of kids reporting the same information, "It's snowing, look a bird! It's still snowing."

Gavin is too young to appreciate all the snow and I still get more improvement from moving dumbbells or giant rubber bands around in the basement than running around in the snow like Rocky in Siberia. So I really haven't been out much. There is not much need either when A keeps making pumkin cookies, bread, pie, and ginger snaps. I pretty much do the rehab workout or ride the rollers for a bit, change the laundry, then head back upstairs to eat whatever just came out of the oven.

Yesterday we ran out of formula, coffee, and a few other necessities. I dusted off the skis, dug out some winter riding kit and made my way to the grocery store. The tire tracks were snowed over enough that they merely acted as rough ski tracks. I saw two cars and a half dozen skiers. Mine weren't the only pair of skis leaned against the wall at Safeway either. The good news is that I was just able to fit my Gore-Tex pants on and that the skiing didn't hurt nearly as bad as walking still does. On the down side, I forgot the grocery list.

Tastes Like:

I’ve never been a big fan of the specialty “energy” foods. Perhaps it was my early experiences with PowerBars back when they were still developing the recipe in 1986, which tainted my opinion. I recall a hot and windy road race in the desolate foothills near Walnut Creek, Ca. An area surely covered by track housing and strip malls today. The PowerBar leaked out of the wrapper like some sort of high density, fudge milkshake, covering the inside of the center pocket of my wool jersey. I was young and impressionable. Highly concerned about fitting in. Getting dropped in a bike race and looking like I crapped myself then stuck the poo in my pocket was not going to win me friends and it was pretty much crystal clear that I couldn't win races.

My next PowerBar memory was the following winter on Skyline Road above Palo Alto, on a group ride with Eric Heiden, the speed skating Michael Phelps of the 1980 winter Olympics. The whole ride is fodder for a different story, but suffice it to say; still hypercritical of my presentation, I bit into the bar while riding next to the 7-Eleven team rider’s left leg which was as big as me. I about broke my jaw because the damned bar was frozen solid.

As I developed as a racer I tried again the trendy bars and gels but found the specialty stuff to ignite my digestive track and clear a motel room of all 5 or more of my roomies. I learned about ham sandwiches, Fig Neutons, Pop Tarts and pastries of all varieties. I further justified my desire for “real” foods on long rides and in races because that is what the Pro’s ate. Even today, a mussette bag in a Grand Tour has more pastries than gel packs.

I still maintain that Pop Tarts, the cinnamon ones, are one of the greatest snack foods in the world. I love Pop Tarts. Cinnamon Pop Tarts. Sans Toaster.

I’m fast approaching 40 and not riding my bike. Exercise, as rehab isn’t burning the calories like regularly riding a bike. Last month I had to buy new pants in a bigger size. FOR THE SECOND TIME THIS YEAR! I can’t get away with eating the way I am accustomed to any longer. I need more salads, more whole grains. Fewer Pop Tarts.

Last week, I found High Fiber Pop Tarts. They have a dryer, less cakey taste than the white flower variety, but match the same sugary, cinnamon spice nectar. I imagine on a long ride they won’t offer the sugar spike like the traditional tarts, but again; I’m not riding my bike so what do I care? I can wash them down with a beer while stretching out the exercise band and watching TV if I get the knock. Besides, at this point in my life and past impaction experience, a little extra fiber can go a long way.

Not sure which is funnier...

...the tiny hat or G crapping in TK's hand?

Snow Day

Some years, the talking head meteorologists tease us with threats of snow that never come to pass. This year we got a home run on the first pitch.

The day after Thanksgiving A had me set the tree up. Years ago she wanted a fake tree. I conceded on the condition it could be spotted as such from a good distance. I think it's pretty clear that this tree is more closely related to a coat hanger than timber.

I realized that Trike and I are much the same. He used to love playing in the snow as recently as his 15th year. He would chase his Kong and slide all over as well as try to dig the sidewalk up from under the snow to make sure it was still there.

Yesterday I let him out and he went to the closest bush to pee then came right back in. When the whole Newmaforma briefly ventured outside, he hid under the plastic tree and refused to even get near the door. I can't disagree with his wanting to stay inside where it's warm. I could feel the storm coming in both my pelvis (for the 3rd winter now) and my hip.

Gavin seems unimpressed by the whole snow thing. He was more interested in bouncing on the mini-trampoline in the basement.

A took the day to bake. Like any good husband, I ate.