Here’s a great recap of the Worst Day of the Year Ride.  I made some notes in brackets, otherwise the rest comes from Liz Calhoun, a Bike Ambassador, AABTS member and dedicated cyclist:

“Worst day of the Year Ride” Recap

By Liz Calhoun

The Worst Day of the Year Ride is actually a Portland, Oregon event (see how they do it: http://worstdayride.com), which has a limit of TWO THOUSAND riders. 

Our local version this year was sponsored by Wheels in Motion bike shop with edible contributions from Zingerman’s Deli and the “traditional” rousing wrap-up at Arbor Brewing Company. 

More than 100 riders attended; and that number was impressive, given the temperature, which topped out at about 32’ minus wind chill.  Nearly forty riders took the 40-mile challenge, which departed at 1pm and included AABTS members John Bain, Tom Barrett, Steve Dodge, Geoff Crosbie, and Michael Murray.  Crosbie, long-time Club member and Ride Captain of many rides, noted that the conditions for the 40 mile this year were vastly improved over those of a year ago.

[It should also be noted that Geoff is an employee of the Ann Arbor Chamber of Commerce, where getDowntown resides]

A Mountain Bike “option” was also available to riders so inclined and equipped.  Another forty riders enjoyed the “Reindeer Ride” of 12 miles, staging at 2pm, and included Paul Alman, Joe Pavlovich, Tom Maher, and Doug and Elizabeth Tidd.  My ride, the “Snowshoe Hare Ride” of 6 miles, left at 2:30, with barely a dozen riders.  Not that the route was bad, but that conditions were such that many riders decided to take advantage of clear roads (comparatively) and ride the longer routes.

The event was distinguished by the presence of cycling celebrity Frank Bostwick, recently relocated to Ann Arbor, who was queuing up to ride with us Snowshoe Hares.  Frank stated in email prior to the event: “ I’ll be riding an old white Cannondale with drop handlebars. My white helmet has a red-flashing light.  I’m sure I have more white hair than anybody else on the ride.  Never fear.  I can still handle six miles.”  

And he was true to his word, at age 83 taking his place at the starting line with Ride Captain Pete Hines and yours truly, et al.  Frank is the author of the book “Upcountry Odyssey: Cycling Solo at 68 from Florida to Canada through the Appalachian Mountains” which details his 1,668-mile journey on bicycle from Florida to Canada, back when he was a young gallant.

Club member Klaus Wolter took part in the Mountain Bike Loop, and found it extremely challenging.   In his post-ride commentary to Ride Captain Ann Hunt, he stated:  “It was difficult.  I was told that included parts of ‘The Loop of Pain.’  I had NO idea that those trails existed in and around Ann Arbor!  Wow! Climbing a hill in Leslie Park, my legs let me know they had had enough of this and cramped up on me.  First time I’ve ever experienced that!”  Klaus noted that he’d be looking forward to the ride next year, although reflected that maybe the “City Loop” would be more appealing …

[It should also be noted that we all give Klaus Wolter credit for behaving in good getDowntown style --- in other words, he bicycled to the start of the ride and back from his home in Dexter!] 

This was my first year to ride the Worst Day ride.  I am by no means an all-weather cycle commuter or even a hardy mountain biker.  I ride a standard Trek FX7500 with standard mostly-slick road tires, and my biggest challenge was getting out of my neighborhood and downtown to Kerrytown.  Yeek!  Whoa, Dobbin!  Slewing sideways in the slushy aftermath of the snowfall the night before or kicking up foul sprays of salty roadmelt, I got an immediate introduction to what thousands of cycle commuters around the world deal with on a typical winter poke to or from work.

Most of the crew from Wheels in Motion were on hand at Kerrytown to welcome registrants, and Zingerman’s Deli provided carafes of thick hot chocolate and baskets of slabs of coffee cake.  DeWight Plotner, owner of Wheels in Motion, wife Vickie and daughter Chelsie gave the start a family-reunion-esque warmth that brightened up the gloom of the late-January day.  It was still pretty raw to be standing around in the wind, as I learned quickly, having arrived to be a volunteer-as-needed at noon.  At 12:30 I decided to go ride some part of the 6-mile ride to get a sense of the conditions.

It was back in the muck and salt spray, and I noticed that crud was caking up smartly between the rear forks of my bike.  Cars passed me on Main Street, putting more salt spray in my space.  I turned off onto Lake Shore Dr. heading toward Bandemer Park and saw immediately that slushy snow covered the railroad crossing there.  The Bandemer Trail itself was white and wet … and the wooden bridge across the Huron up to Whitmore Lake/Barton Drive pretty dicey for a bike.  I rode the short loop and made it back to Kerrytown by the start of the long ride at 1pm.

Having endured watching numerous other cyclists depart, it was with teeth-chattering relief that finally, at 2:30 and an end to coffee cake and hot chocolate, I followed as Pete led the Snowshoe Hares off on the 6-mile route.  We were honored to have DeWight and Vickie and Chelsie Plotner in our group.  You know you’re in good hands when the sponsor and his family are in your peloton: the situation can’t be all that bad.

Our route was familiar to Breakfast Ride veterans — down Fourth past Wheeler Park, to Main and then right onto Long Shore to the Bandemer Park trail, which had melted quite a bit since I scouted it two hours earlier.  The grey river perfectly complemented the grey slush under our tires, and the steely clouds overhead.  There was a bit of a wind, to drop the temperature nicely.  We wound through Bandemer and then onto Barton Dr. to avoid the long wooden boardwalk section on the high bank of the river.  From Barton we traveled up to Hilldale.  An oncoming motorist on Barton very courteously motioned us all to complete our left turn as a group, and we waved and shouted “THANK YOU!” in response.  We finally came to the Hilldale bike/walk trail at which point the hardiest cyclists went on through – DeWight, Vickie, and Chelsie – and Pete led the rest of us Snowshoe Hares to Cloverdale to Stellar and so to Pontiac Trail.  Past Northside School and out Barton to Plymouth we continued, then Broadway, and back to Fifth and Kerrytown, where we stopped to count riders.  And from there we proceeded to Arbor Brewing Company where Mark Epstein and Wells Henderson of Wheels in Motion were minding the bike racks as Cycle Parking Valets, all complimentary.

Whatever the temperature and conditions outside Arbor Brewing Company, inside it was PACKED with cyclists, and more arrived steadily between 4 and 6pm.  That dashing rogue Frank Bostwick bought me a pint of Stout – I imagine he’d autograph a copy of his book for me, too (and for YOU, too, if you ask him).  I got into a spirited discussion with Tom Maher about this venerable Newsletter (Lynda, we need article submission guidelines!) and then chatted up Geoff Crosbie about his Appalachian State sweatshirt.  By the time I left, the Plotners were closing down our reserved section of the Brewing Company, and the number of rigs on the racks outside was down to a bare dozen.

It should be noted that unlike most every other invitational that AABTS members are likely to ride this year, the Worst Day of the Year ride is completely FREE.  There are no fees involved with the ride.  Unless you have Frank Bostwick buying your beer for you, however, you *do* have to pay for your own brew at Arbor Brewing Company.  When I talked about the ride with DeWight Plotner afterwards, he was still glowing from the number of participants.  “It’s about fun, about the spirit of ‘Worst Day,’” he emphasized.  To be sure, folks in Portland, Oregon, are not likely to experience a nice (nasty) punishing Great Lakes snowfall the night before, or during, the ride.  The Pacific Northwest tends to witness few ice storms, or monstrous snowdrifts, or cars going gingerly through slush over a freezing roadbed.   But these are conditions that many cyclists experience as a matter of course, sometimes without real alternatives: those who depend on their rigs as a means of transportation to their places of employment.   As much as “Worst Day” was meant as Sunday recreation, I, personally, couldn’t help but go home in the fading daylight with an increased respect for those cyclists who commute rather than tour.