The photo from yesterday's post was taken when I followed a group of fatbikers down to the Coastal Mud Flats on Sunday. Tim proposed a ride, but admitted the conditions might not be right. The only way to find out was to ride down and check it out.
Tim and Tony led the way as we headed down the bluff. I immediately knew that even if the ride turned out to be short, it was going to be worth it.
We rolled out onto the frozen mud and pedaled into the 1 pm sun. The snow was only about 6 inches deep but untracked and provided a lot of resistance on our tires. Every fifteen feet or so, we would hit a pile of wind blown snow and have to dismount our bikes.
We pushed and rolled until we reached the bare ice. I watched as Tim slowly crossed over a depression in the snow and in slow motion his bike began to sink. It was a sight my brain could not process. What was happening?
The ice was slowly giving away under his bike. He was diving with his bike into a river of almost frozen ice slush. Tim quickly pulled himself out the other side and stared at his bike in confusion.