Friday morning, I wake up determined to get in a good training ride outdoors. I'm so sick of the trainer -- after one week -- I would rather shove carpet tacks in my gums than turn one more pedal stroke indoors. I'm fully dressed for the 25 degree weather by the time the weather guy tells me that its icy out. I decide to give it a go anyway.

I get the cross bike and head out the gangway . . . to find the gate is snow/iced in and I'm not getting out of the yard that way. So I go in the back door and out the front door. The front porch is a touch slippery, and I can see the glossy sheen of sheer ice covering the front steps and sidewalk. But I have good balance, ice is rarely a problem. Confident in my abilities, I pick up my bike, put one bootie-encased mountain shoe on the top step . . . and fall down the stairs. All the stairs. Happily, I fell feet first and landed on the sidewalk on my butt -- I don't want to think about falling head first. I get up and check the bike -- looks OK; check the new iPhone in my back pocket -- it turns on; look around for my keys . . . and can't find them. Not on the ice or in the snow or in my pocket. They are, yes, at the top of the icy steps where I dropped them on my way down. I have to climb back up to get them, and then down again. This time, I make generous use of the railing.

I figure I'll give the ride a go -- I can always turn around if its impossible -- but considering how crazy icy my carefully shoveled front walk is, my plan of riding the lakefront path is out. I stick to the roads and head out towards Highland Park. The main roads were largely clear of ice, traffic was light, and I had a good ride.

Saturday its in the 50s when I wake up. I'm going on the team ride! I get my road bike off the trainer and pump up the tires. I tape the ankle I whacked on my trip down the stairs the day before, get my rain coat out and slip bread bags over my socks. I head down to Wicker, but find no one there. I wait around for a couple minutes, then head north up Damen -- people often join in on the way, and there should be a couple up at Pratt & Ridge. But there isn't. I am the team ride this week. I again head north towards Highland Park, enjoying the feeling of being on my road bike again. Its wet, but its warm, so I'm not suffering. North of Evanston, it gets misty, which is a bit freaky. I have several lights blinking on my bike and person, so I'm reasonably visible, but not being able to see more than 30 feet ahead isn't optimum. By the time I get back on Sheridan after the little detour on old Green Bay and Scott, its raining in earnest and the fog is increasing. At the top of the hills, I can't see the bottom. So a mile or so from Scott, I pack it in and turn around. Back on old Green Bay, I run into a Pony Shop guy, and we do a loop up Green Bay back to Scott together. Nice to have company. We diverge north of Evanston, and the rain lets up as I ride south. I'm half dry by the time I get home.

Sunday is sunny and bright. Its cooled down to the low 30s again, and there's a wind, but its a lovely day for a ride. I head to the lakefront path, sick of traffic and stop lights. There's a little ice, but nothing that gives me much trouble. Stiff wind from the southwest to get my heart beating. A really nice endurance ride.

I'm hoping the reasonable winter weather persists and the trainer can sit alone and unused.