Winter Hub Training Ride

Last night, in lieu of the standard indoor trainer ride, the Hub gang went for an outdoor ride. I admit having reservations in the afternoon, but after the ride home and the snow picked up... I was stoked. First note, about riding in Forest Park on the once a year snow of St. Louis: The bike path is an extreme workout. Along Skinker the cars had thrown the road grime slush all over to make an interesting ice & fluff mix.
I wussed out and drove to the Hub. When I realized that the ride was at 8, giving me a free hour that I could use to prime the Eagle for a drive. Every once in a while, like when it snows 8", it's nice to take it for a spin. On multiple axi.
So the ride started off at 8pm. The crew was there. I had brought some special warm up juice to fight the cold.
Apparently I didn't get the memo. I came with my trusty commuter, the 34x15 fixed gear, 700x34 Hutchinson Piranhas, rack and fenders. Everyone else had to have regular fat tires. I think though the advantage was won by the cyclocross. The thinner tires cut through the layers of snow better and made better contact to real surfaces below. A lower gear may have been good in a few cases. The snow ride is the ultimate strength workout. My legs are feeling it today.
I cannot lie. We didn't ride the whole three hours. First we had a mechanical and pit stop to reassemble a saddle-post assembly. This shouldn't have been all that difficult, but it was about 15 degrees and the Jager was already passed around once or twice.
Then we made a warm up stop at a local establishment where we could impress the serious Tuesday night bar patrons with our super extremeness. After some meandering around the roads and a little off road, our final destination was the 'suicide hill' sledding spot. So for regular St. Louisians, this was a known place, but I have never been there. On approach, it looked like we ran into a makeshift high school party. A bonfire was lit, and numerous young'n's with random beverages. I think the best quote as we arrived was a cold slurred "Are you a downhiller?", as I parked my fixed gear cyclocross. One by one we ventured forth and down. On the first run, I was the last to go. Given my broken finger and being the only fixie among us, I was hesitant. But I couldn't disappoint the crowd, could I? So I gave one good push then locked the rear wheel and slid down. I didn't let the bike really pick up any speed until the last part of the descent when I'd need some speed to cut through the field. The second time down, I let it out much more, more speed, a little fish tailing and sliding. Everyone thought that going down that on my commuter was remarkable, but really I think it was much easier. After two runs and a few crashes we once again made pit stop. This time we chose to lock the bikes... with one lock. As we did so, met a lifted jeep with mudding tires, that pathetically flatted on a curb in the snow, and all they had was a wimpy factory jack. These people wouldn't make very long outside the comfy city.
While on the second stop we were able to examine some of the glory of the descent. We made one more stop on the way back, to grab some wings and a few more beers, then returned to the Hub. I didn't get to bed till about 1 in the morning. Definitely a little sluggish today.
If you read this far you should have a good idea how we tracked last night.