Road Salt Ride, March 15, 2008

Winter in southern New England is not what it once was. The prospect of scheduling a club run in concurrence with snow is dodgy at best. Indeed on the morning of the ride the sound of rain falling in the alley accompanied my breakfast. When it came time to pack the saddlebag before heading out the door, I noticed that the sound had stopped. I raised the blind and saw that the rain had turned to snow. "Perfect!"

Mudguards clogged with pine needles and snow bring proceedings to a quick halt. Bob hoists the Flying Scot.

We like our old bikes splattered with mud. It's cycling, not taxidermy.

Photos by Chris Barbour