Drumroll please, here is a list of women-specific winter cycling pants ideal for fat biking. Whenever I read a gear review I have to look up each item to see if it comes in a women’s version or if the men’s size might be workable. My goal was to find a range of winter cycling pants for the woman fat biker that would be ideal for the weekend warrior to the hero endurance athlete. The list comes from recommendations from both.
In the middle of the pandemic, I found a rhythm to the summer. Following the phases of the moon my partner and I filled our weekends with beauty, peace and adventure. I don’t usually leave our uncrowded and beautiful state of Wyoming on purpose but we were surprised to find an undeveloped and peaceful corner of Colorado just south of the border.
Yesterday I rode my bike up a mountain. It wasn’t just any mountain. Mt. Evans is one of Colorado’s 14’ers – mountains that are over 14,000 feet in elevation. The road to the top of Mt. Evans happens to be the highest paved road in North America. I rode as high as a person can ride on the continent!
Why DO we do hard things? As I was pushing my bike up the steep road in the dark, I wondered “what do normal couples do for Friday night date-night?” (Cue Sara Jessica Parker’s Sex in the City voice.)
I want to ride the ride where the west commences, and gaze at the moon till I lose my senses. I can’t look at hobbles and I can’t stand fences. Don’t fence me in. – Roy Rogers
I thought I knew where I wanted to be but I ended up where I was supposed to be.
I’m know I’m not the only one navigating an endless maze of emotions lately. I’ll wake up happy to be healthy and alive only to be teary-eyed later in the day for no apparent reason.
I don’t mind being alone and most of the time I prefer it (except for a few select humans!) but I’m going to admit that I have felt lonely during the pandemic. And there’s no cure for loneliness like being in Mother Nature. On a whim I headed out to the Red Desert on a whim to hike the Oregon Buttes, something I’ve wanted to do for years.
My 15 year-old son said this post is “so cringy.” For almost a month I have been quarantined from everyone including my kids and my partner. It’s been hard. I miss hugs.
Who knew that the Togwotee Winter Classic would be the first and last last bike race of the Wyoming season? It was a phenomenal day: friends, laughter, sunshine, peace and beauty. And my first bike race post-cancer treatment!
Winter bikepacking was on my bucket list but I have no idea why. Camping in the cold doesn’t sound like fun to me. After all, camping is about relaxing in a hammock – not worrying about if my toes will freeze and fall off. But here I was, not only winter camping for the first time but doing it by bike.
The Loop Road is a 30 mile epic winter fat bike ride in the Lander, Wyoming area from South Pass to Sinks Canyon.
The Iron Horse Race was a bright spot in my summer and just what I needed before breast cancer treatment started. I wore my medal a lot – enough to embarrass my kids. I wore it to my lumpectomy the week after the race and I wore it sometimes around the house when I was scared. It was a reminder that with a little bit of faith and a whole lot of support from my tribe, I could dig deep and keep going the next mile.
I started riding fat bikes back when they were still called “snow bikes” and I’ve found a few things that make for the hap/happiest winter riding.
Studd Pyles and I took advantage of an unseasonably warm November day to ride a section of the Pony Express/Oregon Trail from east of Willie’s Meadow to the Sweetwater River.
Ten items for winter cycling to keep you warm and toasty. Review of cycling bibs for bar mitts, and winter gloves.
Lost Mine Tour by Fat BikeExploring Wyoming’s Gold Rush HistoryTour around South Pass City State...
Yellowstone National Park is my favorite place on earth. I am lucky, a four hour drive from my doorstep gets me to Old Faithful, depending on how many ‘bear jams’ I encounter along the way.
This post is not actually about riding bikes or wild horses. It’s about being scared. Very, very scared. It was Friday morning and I had been waiting all week for test results from a breast biopsy.
Winters are long in Wyoming and spring is a trickster. When the first robin returns, BAM, POW — we are sucker-punched with a foot of snow. I hadn’t seen bare ground since last October.
Have you ever been on a cell phone where there’s a poor connection and you’re only getting fragments of what the other person is saying? Then it’s like a puzzle with you trying to string together and make sense of the few words that you could understand while at the same time trying to listen to the bits and pieces that are forthcoming? This is what my world is like on a daily basis because I am hard of hearing.