Mountain Pass at midnight

Last night I had a performance in Ellensburg, a hundred miles away on the
other side of the mountains. Since I'm leading a ride this morning, I didn't
want to spend the night there. So after the concert was over, I jumped into
the car started for home.

While the weather was fine in Ellensburg and where I live, there was a
terrible storm at the pass. As I got closer and closer to the mountains, the
rain fell harder and harder. Then it turned to sleet, and the wind began to
blow so hard I had to fight to hold the car in the lane. It was close to
midnight, very dark, and visibility was poor. At the very top of the pass,
it turned to wet snow, flying in all directions.

All I could think the entire drive through that was, "thank god I'm not on
my bike in this".


--
Warm Regards,

Claire Petersky
please substitute yahoo for mousepotato to reply
Home of the meditative cyclist:
http://home.earthlink.net/~cpetersky/Welcome.htm
Personal page: http://www.geocities.com/cpetersky/
See the books I've set free at: http://bookcrossing.com/referral/Cpetersky

Claire Petersky wrote:

Last night I had a performance in Ellensburg, a hundred miles away on the
other side of the mountains. Since I'm leading a ride this morning, I didn't
want to spend the night there. So after the concert was over, I jumped into
the car started for home.

While the weather was fine in Ellensburg and where I live, there was a
terrible storm at the pass. As I got closer and closer to the mountains, the
rain fell harder and harder. Then it turned to sleet, and the wind began to
blow so hard I had to fight to hold the car in the lane. It was close to
midnight, very dark, and visibility was poor. At the very top of the pass,
it turned to wet snow, flying in all directions.

All I could think the entire drive through that was, "thank god I'm not on
my bike in this".



You left out the interesting part!

What kind of performance?

--
--------------------+
Frank Krygowski [To reply, remove rodent and vegetable dot com,
replace with cc.ysu dot edu]

All I could think the entire drive through that was, "thank god I'm not on
my bike in this".

www.ChainReaction.com/sonora2000.htm

--Mike-- Chain Reaction Bicycles
www.ChainReactionBicycles.com


"Claire Petersky" wrote in message
.net...
Last night I had a performance in Ellensburg, a hundred miles away on the
other side of the mountains. Since I'm leading a ride this morning, I
didn't
want to spend the night there. So after the concert was over, I jumped
into
the car started for home.

While the weather was fine in Ellensburg and where I live, there was a
terrible storm at the pass. As I got closer and closer to the mountains,
the
rain fell harder and harder. Then it turned to sleet, and the wind began
to
blow so hard I had to fight to hold the car in the lane. It was close to
midnight, very dark, and visibility was poor. At the very top of the pass,
it turned to wet snow, flying in all directions.

All I could think the entire drive through that was, "thank god I'm not on
my bike in this".


--
Warm Regards,

Claire Petersky
please substitute yahoo for mousepotato to reply
Home of the meditative cyclist:
http://home.earthlink.net/~cpetersky/Welcome.htm
Personal page: http://www.geocities.com/cpetersky/
See the books I've set free at: http://bookcrossing.com/referral/Cpetersky

Claire wrote -

...it turned to wet snow, flying in all directions....All I could think
the entire drive through that was, "thank god I'm not on
my bike in this".

Curious how guilty you feel when you are driving and you come across a rider
or a bunch - thoughts of that should be me out there.

One excuse that works for me is pretending to be the sag wagon for a while -
but they never seem to need my dubious assistance - imagine coming across
riders is those conditions?

best, Andrew

"Frank Krygowski" wrote in message
...

You left out the interesting part!

What kind of performance?

Vocal. I can give you ther hairy details via email if you're interested.


--
Warm Regards,

Claire Petersky
please substitute yahoo for mousepotato to reply
Home of the meditative cyclist:
http://home.earthlink.net/~cpetersky/Welcome.htm
Personal page: http://www.geocities.com/cpetersky/
See the books I've set free at: http://bookcrossing.com/referral/Cpetersky

"Claire Petersky" wrote in message
.net...
Last night I had a performance in Ellensburg, a hundred miles away on the
other side of the mountains. Since I'm leading a ride this morning, I
didn't
want to spend the night there. So after the concert was over, I jumped
into
the car started for home.

While the weather was fine in Ellensburg and where I live, there was a
terrible storm at the pass. As I got closer and closer to the mountains,
the
rain fell harder and harder. Then it turned to sleet, and the wind began
to
blow so hard I had to fight to hold the car in the lane. It was close to
midnight, very dark, and visibility was poor. At the very top of the pass,
it turned to wet snow, flying in all directions.

All I could think the entire drive through that was, "thank god I'm not on
my bike in this".

I rode Kanamangus Pass in New Hampshire about this time of year with another
guy I hooked up with online. I live in Newport RI which is pretty flat and
really wanted to ride a mountain pass. We started on the west side and were
going to ride to the ranger station on the east side. The other guys wife
was going to go shopping in Conway and we were going to call her when we got
to the station. Since the weather was not very good, cold and occasional
light snow this seemed like a reasonable thing to do. We got over to the
ranger station and called his wife. Since the weather had cleared up we
told her we were going to go back west over the pass. She said she was
about done and would meets somewhere on the highway. About half way up the
weather turned bad again with wet snow. We kept going, expecting her to
catch up with us at any time. The snow got worse as we reached the top of
the pass. We were cold, wet and at this point up the creek without a
paddle. It was way too slippery to try an descend and we were too cold and
wet to stay were we were. There had been no traffic for about half an hour
and the batteries were dead in the cell phone. We were in big trouble.and I
was doing a mental review of my life insurance. We started back down going
east again. It was longer but not as steep. We managed a couple of mile
going as slow as we could with frozen wet rims. Very very scary. She
finally showed up. After throwing the bikes on the racks we jumped in and
cranked the heater as high as it could go. She had no idea how bad a shape
we were in, the whole trip back to the hotel by 93 she complained about
having to drive in the snow and what great deals she got shopping. When I
got back to the hotel I took a hot shower for about half an hour to warm up.
Not an experience I would have like to repeat.
Chris

On Sun, 24 Oct 2004 19:52:04 GMT, "Mike Jacoubowsky"
wrote:

All I could think the entire drive through that was, "thank god I'm not on
my bike in this".

www.ChainReaction.com/sonora2000.htm

--Mike-- Chain Reaction Bicycles
www.ChainReactionBicycles.com


Yikes! I got cold just reading that.

All I could think the entire drive through that was, "thank god I'm not
on
my bike in this".

www.ChainReaction.com/sonora2000.htm

--Mike-- Chain Reaction Bicycles
www.ChainReactionBicycles.com


Yikes! I got cold just reading that.

Actually, reading it in the colder months of the year isn't so bad; you
don't appreciate so much the drop from 97 to 42 degrees (42 degrees doesn't
seem that cold at this time of year!).

--Mike-- Chain Reaction Bicycles
www.ChainReactionBicycles.com

Mike Jacoubowsky wrote:

Actually, reading it in the colder months of the year isn't so bad; you
don't appreciate so much the drop from 97 to 42 degrees (42 degrees doesn't
seem that cold at this time of year!).

Yes indeed, the temperature swings in the Sierra can be a challenge.
On last September's "So Long To Summer Sierra" ride, the group rode
one day from Markleeville to Jackson, by way of Ebbetts Pass. The
low was 36F in the morning, as we headed towards Ebbetts. The high
was 105F, as the afternoon sun baked Sheep Ranch Road near Mokelumne
Hill.

My hands got so cold that they became unusable. I stopped at the
first sunny patch of road and put my bare hands down my shorts. This
made an interesting spectacle for the riders coming up behind me. I
really didn't care, nothing seems to hurt as badly as thawing
fingers.

Then there was the time in April of last year, when I got caught in
a freak snowstorm on nearby Montebello Road. The wind was blowing
the snow sideways, but I was determined to complete the climb. It
wasn't really that bad, until I got a flat as I neared the summit.
Once again, my hands became useless stumps. I walked my bike down to
the Ridge Winery, which had a bathroom with hot running water. I
must have stayed in there half an hour, running my hands under the
water until they became usable again. On the descent, I had to stop
every 2-3 minutes until my uncontrolled shaking stopped. Farther
down the hill, the Pichetti Winery had a fireplace going. Hot coffee
and a cozy fire was like a gift from the heavens.
--
terry morse Palo Alto, CA http://bike.terrymorse.com/

On Mon, 25 Oct 2004 10:50:47 -0700, Terry Morse wrote:

Mike Jacoubowsky wrote:

Actually, reading it in the colder months of the year isn't so bad; you
don't appreciate so much the drop from 97 to 42 degrees (42 degrees doesn't
seem that cold at this time of year!).

Yes indeed, the temperature swings in the Sierra can be a challenge.
On last September's "So Long To Summer Sierra" ride, the group rode
one day from Markleeville to Jackson, by way of Ebbetts Pass. The
low was 36F in the morning, as we headed towards Ebbetts. The high
was 105F, as the afternoon sun baked Sheep Ranch Road near Mokelumne
Hill.

My hands got so cold that they became unusable. I stopped at the
first sunny patch of road and put my bare hands down my shorts. This
made an interesting spectacle for the riders coming up behind me. I
really didn't care, nothing seems to hurt as badly as thawing
fingers.

Then there was the time in April of last year, when I got caught in
a freak snowstorm on nearby Montebello Road. The wind was blowing
the snow sideways, but I was determined to complete the climb. It
wasn't really that bad, until I got a flat as I neared the summit.
Once again, my hands became useless stumps. I walked my bike down to
the Ridge Winery, which had a bathroom with hot running water. I
must have stayed in there half an hour, running my hands under the
water until they became usable again. On the descent, I had to stop
every 2-3 minutes until my uncontrolled shaking stopped. Farther
down the hill, the Pichetti Winery had a fireplace going. Hot coffee
and a cozy fire was like a gift from the heavens.

In the dictionary, next to the word "Gnarly", there is a picture of Terry.

-B