Friday Pace Run

keg #1

This would have been a very easy run to miss but in the end I was really glad I got it in.  After arriving at Upton's Cabin on Thursday night we quickly tapped keg number one and began digging our way through snow towards the cabin.  There was a nice 3' snow bank to contend with followed by 150 ft. of 16" deep powder.

Brent and I decided to lay off the beer and go for a night ride to Kalkaska.  Under clear skies the temperature was around 3 degrees.  Once we hit the trail my hands instantly turned to blocks of ice and my heated shield wasn't working making visibility shoddy at best.  For me, the ride into town wasn't that great, but Brent tore up the trails in grandiose style.  We poked around town looking for gas and even with temps just above zero Brent managed to overheat his sled.  At the time we didn't know it was overheated, we just knew it wouldn't start.  After poking around for 30 minutes, changing plugs and tinkering we decided to tow it to the Econo Lodge in Kalkaska where we would leave it for the night.  When we got it the Lodge, we decided to try to start it one more time before leaving it for dead.  Of course it fired right up and was ready to run like a raped ape.  As it turns out, the computer had locked out the ignition and it wasn't until we got snow flowing back through the tunnel that the temp. cooled enough to start the machine.  This wouldn't be the only time Brent's sled got towed over the weekend.  As we rode out of Kalkaska back towards the cabin I wanted to push the limits a little so I decided to run with my face shield up so I could see.  I was good for a few miles but then I couldn't take the pain any longer.  Tears were flowing from my eyes and freezing on my face and my eyelashes were starting to freeze together.  Another exercise of torturous agony.  We returned to the cabin to find the rest of the men huddled around a bonfire chugging sweet nectar from the keg.  We too indulged in the drink...pickling our livers and brains well into the cold February night. 

Brent giving the REV a going over

It wasn't until the sight of the sun rising over the Boardman River that I finally decided to drag myself out of my warm sleeping bag on Friday morning.  The temp. had fallen a few ticks below zero.  I hadn't noticed the night before, but a bridge of ice had formed over the river, extending from the dock to waters edge on river left.  Boardman River Road was covered with a solid base of ice and topped with an inch of light puffy snow.  I feared I would miss it, but just as I crested the first hill on the South side of the Boardman I saw the suns first rays cutting through frosty groves of pines and hardwoods.  The sun cast its warmth upon me recharging the depths of my soul.  I enjoyed the solitude of another winter run on a vacant strip of ice covered road in the Michigan's north woods.  On the return, with the sun at my back, my body cast a 35 ft. shadow of the running man--strange at best, but interesting to watch.  

the lineup