A weekend of good hours of training. Sunday found us heading south of the usual playground. Far enough south that it was no longer considered my backyard. Shannon and I found ourselves at Scanlon Creek Park just north of Bradford armed with snowshoes with a mission to find hills. Hills are what I needed, Shannon was just along for the scenery and the dogs just needed to be run.
Some random left and right turns had us all over the place in the park. I was just following along and like I expected She has the same ability as Deathmarch Liz and set a pretty blistering pace up and down the side of the ravine. My amazing tracking skill training had me able to spot lots of deer tracks. Of course any 8 year old would have been able to do the same. As I was playing on a pile of logs Shannon spotted the real thing.
The dogs just stared in confusion.
Two hours after we started we shuffled, ok I shuffled my feet back to the car. I worked hard to keep up with her the whole time. Dam runners. Shannon being the loving woman that she is looked at me, analyzed my training for the day and said it wasn't enough. At this point I'd already handed her the keys to the car not thinking anything of it. As I closed the trunk I heard the engine start, the door close and a call. You need the extra hours, figure out how to get back to the house. Car doors locked and she drove away with me in a stunned phase. Luckily somebody just happen to leave a bike in the parking lot.
I started to long cold ride back to Shannon's place in north Innisfil. Of course the wind had to be coming from the north which slowed the pace down to that perfect ratio of a 29er single speed on the road. Seemed that the wind picked up on the downhills to slow me down then subside on the climbs. As I rolled towards the crest of the hill there would be a blast the could stop a freight train.
I never realized how hilly the area once, my only real time down that way happen to be in a car. As I turned towards the shores of Lake Simcoe the craving to ride the flats of the ice kicked in. This lasted about 500 feet before the soft snow on top of the ice shut down my enthusiasm. The ice was solid and safe but the amount of snow made it almost impossible to ride on and forced a few push-a-bike sections before returning to the road.
Just shy of 2 hours after Shannon drove away from me forcing survival instincts of a cyclist to kick in I pulled into her driveway. She of course was nice enough to have a food and a fire ready for me to help recovery. She still hinted that I needed those extra hours put in. She was right, it was nice getting outside for a long ride. Was much better than the previous day spent on the trainer.