It's snowing. Dammit.
But what does it matter? Most of my outdoor projects are completed and there will still be enough time to finish things up.
Plus, my back is out as I type, so I am not much good to anyone right now. I could probably ride, probably swim but not run really well because I can't stand up straight.
All this comes on the eve of the Double Cross Halloween Weekend. Races at Wheeler Farm on Saturday and Sunday. They are iffy now, at best.
On the bright side of things, I think my backyard tubeless cross wheel setup is working. I did a short ride the other night and had no issues with leaks or rolling tires at 45 psi. I did smack a rock hard enough to think I might have broke my front wheel, and nearly send me over the handle bar, and just kept right on going. It would have pinch flatted a tube for sure.
On a sadder note, my Dad's (and my) Jack Russell Terrier died last week. He had a severe infection from advanced diabetes and Pop decided it was better to have him put down. Roscoe was a great little dog and tough as nails. He'd fight most any dog and I saw him win against larger dogs more than once. He was a lover, too. He didn't like to be held, but that was alright because he felt like a sack of sticks when you did.
My sis gave him to me several years before she died. Then, when I married Wifey, Pa wanted to keep Roscoe at the house. He said it was to make my new apartment life easier. But I think he liked the dog which was why I never asked to have him back.
Roscoe went pretty much everywhere with Dad, so it is a kick in the gut to him. It's tough when your best buddy suddenly isn't there anymore, following you into the bathroom and stuff. I know. I gave him up once. But now, like so many other people and things I've cared for, he only lives in my memories.