Transrockies "Partner Jam"

Trying to manage around some office time today, I let Craig know that I'd be riding northwest from my parent's house starting at around 8:30am.  Forecast was for -10C at that time, and he alluded to the fact that "leaving as early as we can to maximize our time in -10C" wasn't exactly #1 on his priority list.  I totally agreed, but modern wonder fabrics exist such that I can have a shot at riding when I'm not tied to the desk.  I honestly expected he'd pass for fairer weather later in the day, and I wouldn't have questioned that decision for a second if he did.

To my surprise, after a little trouble getting a phone connection going between the two of us (you know, when you look out your car door and there's a giant cell phone tower 23 meters away...), Craig saddled up for a morning ride.  It was cold off the start, my camelback was under 1 rather than two layers, and the hose froze solid.  I stripped down to my undershirt and re-layered which fixed the issue.  Rode north out to the corner of Range Road 25 and Township Road 274.  I've now examined it on google and next time I think west of that intersection would make for interesting riding.  Just like last week, gravel roads are a good workout.  What makes them better is a training partner.  Our pace on the way out was moderate.  On the way back, I could hear my chain stretching.  We were muscling it up the climbs in an attempt to build more muscle for the future.  We were huffing and puffing riding side by side instead of drafting.  And we were having fun.

I wished I could have stayed for the coffee invitation after, but I showered, loaded up my car, and drove straight downtown.  

I'm burnt out from lack of sleep and work.  There's heaps more I could/should/probably am expected to be doing, but I've brought home a stack of resumes to read, and emailed two models home to myself to check out and work on.  I'm not sure I can muster more.  I want to be in bed soon to give myself at least a half a shot of making it through next week with a minimum degree of style.