The Super Bowl Sunday Ride was salvaged. I don't know how it went in H'burg, but I can't imagine it went well. After riding uphill all day with the Merchant of Misery, TB, I couldn't imagine going any farther or deeper. Met up with barnyard intern, Scottie Super D. on Belle Isle. He is between semesters so he was allowed off the farm.
Then we all found Buttermilk. As if the hand of God himself had come down and carved a packed groove in the snow. A foot wide, six inches deep, it was like a bobsled run. Turns out there was a trail run yesterday which got things broken in nicely.
I took the initiative and knocked all the snow off the low hanging branches, and also managed to lay 'er down at least half a dozen times. Most were soft landings but I went down hard trying to outrun traffic on Riverside Drive. Fortunately I have managed to get several Sierra Nevadas in me before the pain set in.
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