I ventured out on the bike in the snow and ice yesterday. It hadn't dawned on S when he left for work that the only way I could get to the midwife appointment was by foot, pedal or two busses.
Since we'd had a hard frost overnight, I imagined that the snow and ice would most likely be crisp and after the Monday morning rush-hour the main roads would be ok. My deduction was spot-on and I enjoyed a slow ride through the woods and park with my fat, lower pressured tyres making a satisfying amount of crunching sounds as they rolled over the ice and snow. Any glassy looking bits, I walked around and over the whole of my 11 mile trip, I hardly lost any traction on any uphills.
It feels like yonks since I last embarked on an epic monday ride, but these little blasts through the trees still bring a lot of calm and restore my sanity after I'm either stuck in buildings or braving the town centre (both of which make me very grumpy).