About the only exercise I got last night, riding almost 20 miles of an "Awesome Sauce" consisting of of ice, slush and mud, was squeezing the brake hooks until my knuckles were as white as this obviously alcoholic dog in my lap. I'm hoping Thursday will see better traction, or something. I'm sort of hoping that a volcano will erupt on Mount Ashley (ever try towing a bike up that hill in deep mud? That was last Thursday ...) and that lava will flow down over the whole course to melt the "Awesome Sauce" and leave us with something that bike tires can actually stick to. How I didn't crash I don't know. Somebody did go down next to me letting of a long and anguished string of Stooge noises as he went. Luckily no one was hurt.
On my day off I plan on dropping the dog off at the Betty Ford rehab unit for English Setters. No more microbrew for you! Down you booze hound!
Hope Thursday's better.