Mrs. North of 60

Dressing incorrectly is the easiest way to ruin a good winter bike ride.  I’ve had to abort many rides because of frozen fingers, and a frostbitten face.  Riding with too much on is equally uncomfortable – nobody likes being steam cooked from inside a parka.  So how do you dress for success?  First of all you have to remember some key points about winter cycling:

• Biking involves periods of high intensity/high energy (climbing) followed by times without any movement.  The danger in this, is that you can easily work up an awesome sweat, just to head down a hill and turn yourself into an icicle.
• There’s not a lot of upper body movement in cycling.  Things that aren’t moving, are more likely to get cold.  Most notably, your hands, that stay still and are the first contact with the wind.
• Certain parts of your body are connected to your bicycle.  Most parts on a bike are made with metal.  When it gets cold – metal gets super-cold.  So, your boots (sitting on your metal pedals); your hands (on your metal handlebar) and your ass (on your metal/synthetic seat) are at risk.

At the end of the day, the other important thing to remember is that everyone is different.  I have had too many years of trying my luck in sub-zero temperatures, resulting in a tendency to frostbite my face.   And despite living up here for a couple of years, I haven’t adapted the same way as the Mr. who wears dress pants and a windbreaker in -35.

Dressing for -28 to -40 C (-18 to -40 F)

The first thing I have to say about riding in this weather, is that I’m mostly riding to commute, or going for fun rides that are under 2 hours in length.

Layer 1

X-Bionic long underwear – I wear this long underwear most days of the winter.  One of its best qualities is that it has anti-smelling properties, necessary if you are going to exercise in it for multiple days in a row.  I’ll admit, by day 4 it’s a bit crunchy, but who doesn’t appreciate a little crunch?

Wool socks – once your feet are frozen, any hope of an enjoyable ride is over.   It’s ideal if you can find a pair of beautiful striped socks that will make you giggle every time you look at your toes, but in the absence of that, any wool socks will do.

Leg hair – Insultation is the key to success, I’m not the 5 time hairiest leg champion of the Yukon for nothing.  Guess which leg is mine, and which is my friend Sam’s; and keep in mind this is still 4 weeks before the competition.

Layer 2

Here’s my secret – I don’t wear a second layer when it’s really cold.  The outer layer is enough to stay really hot.  Plus, it’s too cold to remove a mid-layer mid-ride, so there doesn’t seem much point.

Layer 3

Skookum jacket – These are jackets that are manufactured in Dawson City, Whitehorse.  I have no idea why they are so warm.  They are only a couple centimeters thick; and they’ve got no down.  The absence of feathers is good – I find that the down jackets soak up sweat.  The outside is windproof, but not plastic; and there’s plenty of reflective strips.   The jacket was designed for dog-sledding, so there are convenient pockets for keys and lights and anything else I might need to access.  I have never been cold in this jacket.  I can not imagine ever being cold in this jacket.  The only problem with this jacket is that it’s just too warm.  Even in -40 I open up the pit zips to keep a temperature balance.

Snowpants – I got these sweatpants when I participated in the Fulda challenge a couple of years ago.  They are not attractive at all, but they are super warm.  They also have reflective stripes on the bottoms, which is good for visibility

Re-breather –  Years of exercising in frigid weather, coupled with a bad set of lungs have made winter air an enemy I can’t seem to defeat.  The cold air leads to lung infections, and the lovely nickname “Barky the Seal”.  The re-breather face mask keeps the air I breathe warmer and more humid.  But, the more comfortable air comes with a price.  It’s hard to get a lungful of air with a re-breather and the additional breathing effort results is a reduction in energy output.

Mittens – The Mr. bought me an amazing pair of traditional fur mittens made by a local woman named Lena White.  These things are amazing, they are warm and comfortable.  The thick fur keeps the harshest of wind away from my hands.  The idiot strings allow you to throw off the mittens in order to adjust a zipper or fix a cable, and then slip them back on to rewarm your fingers.   These are big mittens, and they do impede gear shifting and braking; but when it’s this cold that doesn’t matter.  In the cold, cold weather, your bike slows so much that you are going to find yourself spending most of your time in your easiest gears.  As for the braking – when you move that slow, stopping isn’t as important.

 Sorel Boots – This is another piece of clothing I got through Fulda.  They are tall, plain Sorel boots.  They easily fit over my snowpants and in most cases they keep my feet warm.  I’ve been tempted to buy a pair of “Bunny Boots”, which are the ultimate in arctic gear.   Someday I’ll get a pair and find out if they really are as warm as everyone says.

Hat – I stole these two hats from my Mother’s closet a couple years ago.  The felted hat she got it in Cambridge Bay, back when it was in the Northwest Territories.  I have no clue where she got the bomber hat, but they are warm and awesome.  I got myself in a lot of trouble with my friends when I said I didn’t wear a helmet in the super cold, so we came to a compromise.  When I’m riding to work or on any city streets, I will wear an oversized helmet, which can fit an additional hat underneath. When I’m riding on the trails behind my house at less than 5 km/h, I’ll wear a hat.

Here’s what happens when you put it all into action:

I’ve noticed lots of other people sharing their tips for winter dressing.  My bike-wife Jennoit recently shared her dress for work tips, Jill shared her favorite winter gear, Geargals has ongoing reviews,  and I just found Winnipeg Cycling Chick – all with some cool info.

Next week I’ll post the -15 to -28C wardrobe.

Power outages are a fairly common occurrence in Whitehorse.   Most of the time I don’t worry too much about them.  But when the power goes out at -40, it’s hard not to panic.  A woodstove might be able to keep you from freezing, but may not save your pipes.  The last thing I need in winter is help transforming into an unkempt, unclean hermit.  I’m almost there even with hot water access.

After this week’s power outage Yukon Energy posted some information about energy usage.  The increased burden of keeping things moving during the cold snap was bumping energy usage up over the available hydro-energy levels; and Yukon Energy was asking people to think about how to be energy aware during peak hours.  Watching their energy usage charts in facebook has become a new obsession for me.

Already surviving at the lowest room temperature I was willing to endure, I decided the best way to save electricity was through our woodstove.  During the winter, we try to keep the stove burning 24 hours a day.  Unlike the baseboard heaters, or oil monitors, the woodstove has potential uses beyond keeping us warm.  We’ve already made it into a humidifier, by placing a kettle full of water on its surface and this weekend I decided to try it out as a slow cooker.

Yukon Energy Pulled Pork

• A pork roast
• Collection of spices ( 1 Tbl of each cumin, cinnamon, salt, pepper, paprika)
• Ground Midnight Sun Coffee
• 2 Apples
• 1 Onion
• 2 cups of ketchup
• 2 cups of stock (or beer or root beer)
• 1 cup of cider vinegar
• Worcestershire sauce
• Tabasco Sauce
• 1 Tbl Sweetener (maple syrup, honey, molasses or brown sugar)

Mix the spices with the coffee; and rub it all over the pork roast.  If there’s any extra, keep it.

If you want to make this a no electricity endeavor, start with the liquids.  Mix the ketchup, stock (Yukon Brewing Midnight Sun Espresso Stout is pretty awesome in this), cider vinegar, sauces and sweetener in a bowl.  Add the spices, cut up apples/onion and pork and stick it on the wood stove all day (6-8 hours).

If you want to start it on the stove, put some oil in the bottom of a big sauce pan and sear the spice covered pork on all sides.  Remove the roast.  If the pans got a lot of burnt spices in the bottom, rinse it out.  Otherwise, add some more oil and the onions/apples.  Saute these until they are caramelized, then add the leftover spices.  Next mix in all your liquids.  Put the pork roast inside the pan and move it onto your wood stove.

After it’s cooked for as long as you can stand, use a fork to “pull” the pork.  Serve with buns and coleslaw.

There’s a few things I learned about using the woodstove.  It’s best to do this during the day, on a day that you are home.  You’ll want to try to keep the stove hot for the whole time.  We made the mistake of leaving the house for 3 hours.  When we came back, the stove top had cooled.  When slow cooking meat, you are supposed to keep it above a minimum temperature, which can be hard if you aren’t around to stoke the fire.  This is the reason that cooking it overnight can be tough.

Most of the time, the pork cooked at a higher temperature than a slow cooker, so keep your eyes on the liquid, and stir with a wood spoon so you don’t burn anything.  If the liquid gets too thick, just add more stock.

The pulled pork was a delicious accompaniment to the Settlers of Catan; and perhaps even tastier the next morning served with shredded potatoes and over-easy eggs.

The temperature never successfully broke -30 C (-22 F) this week.

On day 1, commuting to work in temperatures around -40 is an adventure.  I finally got to try out my new Christmas polar bear mittens, which exceeded expectation when it comes to warmth.  I got to take my Skookum parka out of the closet and see if it was as amazing as I remembered (it is).   And, I’m not going to lie, I got to be the crazy winter cyclist, that people shake their head at.  ”You rode your bike in this?” they ask – and I take their awe with pride.  The cold weather couldn’t keep me down, couldn’t stop me from my daily routine, and couldn’t keep me off my bike.

But, by Friday, the routine has lost its novelty.  I’m tired of the pre-ride ritual of layering on all my clothes.  Every day I get to work, exhausted from battling the cold – soaking wet from all the energy it’s taken to fight the freezing lubricants, and rigid tires.  I’m annoyed at the people that say to me “You rode your bike in this?” with their disapproving tone, like my bike riding is somehow causing the cold snap.  Maybe if I got with the program and jumped in my car, we could climate change this problem away.

Some of my annoyance is because of the cars that drive past me on my morning commute.  In these temperatures I try to stick with the paved pathways.  It’s too cold for a helmet – I need all the hats I can get on my head.  And at -40, cars spew thick exhaust that lingers in the air, too cold and dense to dissapate.  I have no desire to ride through the fog of petroleum products.   More importantly, the cold snap has left people cranky, and less inclined to follow general traffic rules.  Apparently at around -35, martial law is enacted on the streets of Whitehorse and you can do anything you want.  On Wednesday, I was crossing 2nd avenue when a car rushed passed me, honking its horn and shaking its fist.  It may have been too cold for them to roll down the window, but  the message was pretty clear.  I had obviously inconvenienced this driver.  I may have been crossing on a green light, and they may have completely blown a red light; but that’s really not the point.  What was I doing on their street in the first place?

The car vs. bike debate seems to be renewed in the chill of January’s coldest week.  I sometimes wonder if the anger is due in part to the inconvenience of a car in this weather.  There’s parts to plug in, windows to scrape, gas-line antifreeze to inject – from atop my little bike I can hear the cars grumble down the street – metal scraping, and engine struggling.  Our esteemed Mayor Bev Buckway told a newspaper earlier this year that bicycle commuters “can be really scary for cars”.  Sometimes I imagine that through a windshield I look like a crazy flesh eating zombie that at any moment could jump through the passenger window and eat someone’s brain.   Putting my overactive imagination aside, I can see the concern.  If a car hits a bike on the road, there’s huge repercussions for a driver: police reports, insurance costs, car repairs, and probably hundreds of hours of paperwork.   All things most cyclists don’t have to do – because they are dead.  I wonder if cars know that in the 58 car/bike accidents that resulted in fatalities in 2005, the cyclists are up 58 to 0 when it comes to deaths.  I’d say they don’t need to be too scared.

But, it’s easy when the weather’s bad and you’ve almost been killed by a giant box of metal, to become bitter.  The truth is that 99% of cars are great.  They are courteous, they are kind.  Lots of them give me a little wave as the go by (and not with their middle finger).  I’m not stupid, I know that sometimes I delay a car by 5 or 10 seconds, because it takes me that much longer to get through the round-about.  But, most drivers seem to be okay with that.  In fact many vehicles try to cede right of way to me (which by the way is completely unnecessary and can be kind of dangerous), stopping to let me cross the street, or make a turn.  So instead of making this post about the crazy winter drivers, I’m writing it to thank the not so crazies.  The ones who scrape their windows, so they can actually see the human powered commuters on the sidewalks.  The ones that follow traffic laws, even when it’s cold.  The ones who don’t yell at me or threaten to kill me.  And most importantly, the ones that don’t maim me on my way to and from work.   For you, I am truly grateful.

Riding at -40 requires a special wardrobe.  Anything designed to be aerodynamic or light is useless.  Instead you’ve got to find the things that through science or nature will keep you warm.  There’s a reason that the first people of the arctic wore furs – and it wasn’t for fashion.  Equipped with my Christmas polar bear mittens, and Northwest Territories’ beaver hat – I’m either a traitor or patriot.  If the ride ends in frostbite, and I have to take advantage of our health-care system, I’ll be the trifecta of Canadian awesomeness.

At -40 the world is both incredibly quiet, and strikingly loud.  Because most people are hiding inside, away from the harsh cold, the regular sounds of civilization are noticeably absent.  There are not a lot of cars on the street, and scarves have all but eliminated any chance of chatter.  But where regular sounds are silenced, others are amplified to the point of becoming unrecognizable.   Planes that normally escape the runway without detection, suddenly sound like chainsaws being started mere meters away; and cracking ice has you dodging imaginative bullets.

While your sense of hearing reaches superhero levels, your sight is slowly eradicated.  A scarf or facemask takes away your ability to look down.  A big hat or hood removes the peripheral.  Lashes slowly accumulate frost, weighing them down until they drape over your eyeballs.  What’s left is a pinhole world, covered in crystal fur.

There is no speed at -40.  Within meters of leaving the heated house, Jack Frost takes hold of your bike.  First it’s the tires, that become rigid and no longer roll with ease.  Then it’s the cranks that start to slow as lubricant transforms into maple syrup.  The pedals stop spinning – frozen in place and a once speedy machine now crunches over the snow like a half-ton Caterpillar.

The body slows just as quickly as the bike.  Air at -40 is empty – humidity and oxygen have flown to warmer climates, like most of your friends.   The only thing even remotely comparable,  is the first bike ride after landing in Aspen, CO – 8000 feet above sea level.  Every breath in feels like it’s not enough.  Further complicating things are they scarf or facemask – a necessity if you want to avoid frozen skin.  The already diluted air has to be sucked through a layer of fabric.   With only a small fraction of the oxygen necessary to power movement – each leg rotation takes the effort of a sprint.  The normal 20 minute ride to work is suddenly 40 minutes, and the flat river trail morphs into a hilly challenge.  Thank God no-one else is stupid enough to be riding, or walking up those pathetically small hills would be embarrassing.

So why wander out when the rest of the world is content inside?  Partly it’s the ADHD, but it’s also the adventure of entering a world that looks a little bit familiar, but is somehow completely different.  It’s also the hardest you’ll ever ride to cover such a short distance.

I despise being sick.  It is the worst kind of betrayal – your own body revolting against itself, proving that there is nothing in this entire world that you are 100% in control of.  For me, illness is like a mean parent, disciplining me for unknown indiscretions and banning me from my favorite activities.  Of course, like any petulant teenager, I attempt to escape – unnoticed – slipping out the front door for a quick bike ride or ski.  But, I always get caught, and my punishment is doubled in severity and length.  The mild cold becomes a lung infection, or the lung infection becomes pneumonia.  I know this, but that doesn’t seem to influence my decisions.  Like any teenager – I believe myself to be smarter than logic.

This weekend, I am doing everything I can to resist the lure of adventures.  Perhaps in an example of divine intervention, the temperature has plummeted, somewhat easing the appeal of the outdoors.  Trapped inside my house, I’ve decided to do the only thing I love as much as biking…eating.  And somehow over 4 hours of boredom, I created the world’s greatest Moroccan themed dinner.  So delicious, in fact, that I’m sharing it with you.

Moroccan Lamb Stew

• Lamb (I got a big roast and cut it into cubes)
• Yam or squash
• Can of chickpeas
• Onion
• Garlic
• Spice Mixture (cinnamon, cardamom, cumin, coriander, nutmeg, cloves, allspice, turmeric and/or whatever else you have that’s similar)
• Ginger
• Dried Apricots

Put all the spices together in a fry pan, cooking them until there aromatic.  I used about 1 tsp of each spice, but increased the quantity of spices I really liked.  Pour the spice mixture on the lamb cubes, rubbing it into the meat.

In a pan (I used a big cast iron), cook the onion, garlic and ginger until it’s soft.  Again use however much you feel like – depending on which flavors you prefer.  Because I’m sick, I upped the ginger quotient.  Once the onions have cooked, put in the lamb cubes.  Cook them on medium – high until the outsides have been browned.  Put in enough water to almost cover the meat, then cover the pan, reduce heat to a simmer and leave it be for approximately 1 movie (2 tv dramas, or 3-4 comedies).  Now cut up your yam/squash into cubes and stir it in.  Leave it to cook for about 30 minutes.  Next add your chickpeas, and dried apricots.  Another 30 minutes of cooking will suffice.  I either leave it covered or open depending on how much liquid there is.  I like my curries to be thick, which means more time uncovered at the end.

Serve with naan bread and salad.

Pomegranate Couscous Salad

• Couscous
• Cucumber
• Tomatoes
• Mint bunch
• Pomegranate seeds
• Honey
• Sliced Almonds

Put your sliced almonds into a frying pan and brown on the stove.

Boil water, couscous is usually a 1 to 1 ration for boiled water and dry couscous.  Once the water’s boiled, add it to the couscous and cover for five minutes.  Uncover and stir in some olive oil and honey (probably a tablespoon).

Chop up cucumbers, tomatoes and mint.  Stir them into the couscous.  Add pomegranate seeds.  The easiest way to do this is to cut a whole pomegranate into quarters.  Put the quarters in a big mixing bowl filled with water.  Keeping the pomegranate submerged, use your fingers to pull out the seeds.  The water keeps your hands from getting stained red, and the pulpy bits of the pomegranate float to the top.  When your finished, you can easily dump out the water and pulp, leaving you with only nice, washed seeds.  Last, add your almonds.

This is a simple, but scrumptious salad.

Airport accommodations usually means trying to find arm-restless seats, or a quiet corner to sleep away a 10 hour layover.  But, sleeping at the airport doesn’t have to be horrific – in fact in can be a terrific place to enjoy your first night of a long trip, especially if your flying through Vancouver.  The Vancouver Airport Fairmont is simply my favorite hotel in the world.

To start, the rooms at the Fairmont are beautiful.  The beds have nice white sheets, and a feather duvet.  But, it’s the bathroom I love most.  In addition to a stand up shower, there’s a big bathtub with a window-like opening that lets you watch trash tv, surrounded by a force field of bubbles.

Staying at the airport has plenty of advantages.  First off there’s a plethora of food to choose from at every hour of the day/night.  Whether you want to hit up Flying Wedge pizza, Starbucks for a 5:30 am latte, or some Toshi Sushi, it’s all just a couple hundred feet away.  No need to put on a raincoat – or even change out of your pajama bottoms.

If you are looking for something a little more delicious, the Fairmont’s restaurant features drinks and dinners that rival any downtown eatery I’ve been to.  Carly and I particularly loved their honey, and pear puree cocktail.  If it weren’t for the prohibitively high price ($12/drink), I may not have been able to stop drinking them.  The food’s ridiculous – I had a signature salad full of crab, ahi tuna, and shrimp.  Easily beating the nacho cheese as the best meal of my trip.

Another nice thing about staying at the airport, is that it greatly extends sleep-in time.  Gone is the time budgeted for taxis, and buses.  Instead you can wake up 2 minutes before check-in time.  Roll yourself and your suitcase to the counter – get your bags tagged and head back to the room for a short nap and a shower.  This is priceless,  especially when check-in time is 5 am.

You’re probably wondering how I showered without the luxury of bags.  That’s the final fabulous thing about the airport.  Once you’ve cleared security, there’s a world of make-up, face cream, and more waiting to be applied.  By the time you hit your gate, you’re smelling like a Vogue magazine, and looking a bit like Dolly Parton.

So next time your dreading an overnight layover at YVR, book a night and enjoy plane watching from the comfort of a bubble bath.

I spent the first week of 2012 in the Mayan Riviera celebrating the resort nuptials of my friends Amanda and Steve. Aside from the obvious advantages of going south in January, this vacation had a couple key highlights.

There is simply no point in healthy New Year’s resolutions when you are heading to an all-inclusive resort.  The 24 hour buffets and unlimited drinks might not be enough to break your resolve, but nacho cheese simply can not be resisted.  Instead of cursing the all-inclusive’s destruction of your health, thank it because after one week you are so bloated and hungover that a life of sobriety and vegetables feels like a gift.

No....more....mojitos

When I was in elementary school, every summer the local library would have a reading competition.  You’d fill out cards for each book you read and at various milestones, you’d get amazing prizes – like stickers and pencils.  Already defenseless against a challenge, a younger me would voraciously devour every book available, determined to “win” reading.   The stickers and pencils are long gone, but my ability to plow through books remains.  Unfortunately, it seems like there just isn’t a lot of time left to read – especially when you consider all the other important things I have to do – like watch the Bachelor.  But, something magical happens when I’m on vacation, in a foreign country, where I don’t understand what’s on television; I start to read again and I remember how much I love it.   The best of the books this trip was Hunger Games – a book I was almost hoping to dislike, just because it seemed too popular, too Twilight-esque.  But, found myself obsessed with the trilogy, bookmarking my favorite sections for perpetual re-reads.

Blue skies and sandy pages

This particular vacation was centered around friends’ wedding.   These friends are folks I’ve known for more years than not; and despite the fact we no longer live in the same City, when we come together, it feels like we’re back in the hallways of J.H Picard, throwing cheese slices against the wall and sharing homework assignments.   This group of friends includes the first person I ever thought I would marry – unfortunately at five we were just too young to make it work.  The first boys I invited to a birthday party, where I rode the West Edmonton Mall roller coaster, then promptly vomited in the planters.  The first people who scooped me off a bathroom floor and drove me home – sadly, it was my teacher’s bathroom floor after deciding it was a good idea to drink a 26-er of tequila strength.  And the first people who made me believe I could be loved by people other than those bound by DNA.  Not all of us were able to make it to Mexico, but it was great to see those who could.

Older and hopefully wiser

The only problem with nostalgia, is that it sometimes makes you believe that you are young again, and impervious to hangovers, dance clubs, and late nights.   And despite the collective immaturity we displayed at the mexican nightclub, things have changed since 1998 – most notably the ever growing size of our clique.  First it was girlfriends and boyfriends, who became husbands and wives.  I have always held my male friends in high esteem, but even I am shocked they were able to land women of such high quality.  Now, our group is growing with little ones that make me dream of a move back to Edmonton, and the fulfillment of the fantasy where all our offspring become best friends and eat lunch in the same hallways that we once occupied.

The only unfortunate part of my vacation, was the loss of another pair of sunglasses in an unfortunate kayaking accident.  Already at -1 for sunglasses, and hardly a month has passed.

This is so much fun, we should go again! Oh yeah - also, I love my sunglasses.

Noooooooooooooooooooooooo!

For the first time in history, I’m following through on my New Year’s resolution.  So far I’m 1 for 1 when it comes to days in 2012 and fireworks.

Now I’m getting ready to jump on a plane and head for Mexico for a week of fun and sun.  See you later winter!

Here’s my 2011, summed up in a few random categories:

Bikes +2

Snatchsquatch in all her glory

Tony in Spain, chilling in a rose garden.

+  Ritchey Breakaway named Tony, who traveled with me to Spain, Vancouver, Ottawa and more.

+  My darling Snatchsquatch, an amazing mountain bike to replace Sheera (who I forgot to actually get rid of, and instead just rebuilt with some tougher parts).

+ Wednesday, the new Fatback that is taking winter riding to a whole new level of awesome.

- Snowbitch, my original Pugsley.  Thankfully I’ve retained visitation rights and am happy that I get to keep riding with her and her new Fat Tire Ballerina mama.

Sunglasses +1

RIP Oakley's - this was the last time they were even seen.

I just don't get how I keep losing these things - especially with my high tech helmet carrying methods

-  Lovely Spy glasses lost on the first Easy Money ride of the summer.

-  Oakley sunglasses left somewhere on the Cottonwood – wasn’t willing to re-ride the 80 km to try to find them.

+/-/+  New Smith glasses acquired on bikecation,  lost in Squamish, recovered via Facebook and friends, and returned in November

- Fashion glasses accidentally run over by a bike (ooooops)

+ Fashion glasses to replace run over glasses

+ Fashion glasses stolen from older sister because I looked better in them anyway

+ Smith glasses (identical to those lost and found) won through on-line photo contest using the Mr.’s photo

Fireworks +2

+ Firework display at a friend’s wedding, where one set accidentally tipped over and began shooting into the crowd.  Best. Wedding. Ever.

+ New Year’s Eve fireworks just outside City limits.  Resolution for 2012 is more fireworks.

Biking trips +1

2 girls, 2 bikes, 14000 km = bikecation bliss

Roughing it in Spain with Rose and a bike map

Roughing it in Vancouver in our penthouse

- Ski trip to Edmonton for the Birkebeiner

+ Portland bike show – you have to love a City that believes in alcohol at breakfast.

+ Bike trip to Spain for delicious wine, good food and a crash course in switchbacks.

+ Mountain bike trip to Idaho for the Whit Henry Memorial Galena Grinder.  An amazing way to honor my cousin and be grateful that I’m here and able to ride!

- My most ridiculous trip,  24 hours in Vancouver to see Katy Perry.  Spontaneous, irresponsible and awesome.

+ Bikecation, a full 5 weeks of amazing riding with Monika.  Rode the trails of Jasper, Golden, Fernie, Rossland, Bend, Hood River, Mt. St. Helens, Oakridge, North Vancouver, Cumberland, Hornby Island.  Simply amazing!

- Vancouver for my birthday!  Lack of bikes was made up for by friends and sisters….and shake face.

Friends + 1

Julie hanging with Mr. O

Nobody moved away this year and I continue to have the greatest friends ever.  Friends that will bike with me, pick cranberries with me, ski with me, take 5 weeks off work to indulge in a quarter life crisis with me, travel with me, eat with me, set illegal fireworks off with me and a million things more.

+ Owen arrived this year, adding one more adorable baby to the Whitehorse fold.

The step by step instructions for cloning the awesome:

1.  Find two friends.  These friends must be awesome.  They also must have different schedules for the day.  Ideally they will also live in two different parts of town.

Kate disappears into the woods

Niki on Lower Boogaloo

2.  Locate two awesome single track trails that have been packed by heavy holiday snow-shoers full of eggnog and cookies.

Singletrack start of Boogaloo Heights

Wooden stunts on Quickie

3.  Find a dog that has been suffering from run deprivation, thanks to his owners’ return to work world.

Excuse me Niki - you forgot to throw my stick

Leading the way down Foreplay

3.  Pack 2 entire sets of clothing.  Snow biking is like the Oscars – each party needs its own outfit.  Seriously, biking in sweat drenched clothes is asking for hypothermia.  You must always start a ride in a dry outfit.  This includes sports bras, long underwear and socks.

4.  Throw some food and drink into a bag.  It’s hard to eat in the cold, but you’ll need something to keep the bonk away.

5.  Ride…then repeat.

Ending ride two with the setting sun