Winter in Ohio: When worse comes to worst
- John Lorson: The Rail Trail Naturalist
- February 15, 2022
- 1182
Even a short walk on a cold winter’s evening can yield unusual beauty in even the most familiar landscape. Take your camera along and see what you can find.
There’s a very short list of things that can stop me from riding a bicycle on any given day. In the summertime my number-one obstacle is lightning. Fortunately, for those of us in the Midwest anyhow, episodes of lightning are typically short, if not necessarily sweet. Thunderstorms can roll through over the course of an hour or two and leave us with rainbows and glistening roadways washed clean by the accompanying rainfall.
My wintertime stopper is much more pernicious, long-lived, and when it eventually does go away, it leaves a trail of slush, cinder and horse manure in its place. Ice is my nemesis at this time of year.
I’d happily ride through a few inches of snow just about any day. If dressed properly and on the right bike — typically one with wide, knobby tires — riding on snow is more fun than a Popsicle on a summer day. But throw down a glaze of ice and all bets are off. There’s not a lot one can do to keep two wheels upright on iced-over pavement.
I’ve been caught out a handful of times when the change seemed to happen mid-ride, and the best I could do was skitter along with feet splayed like outriggers on both sides of the bike until finally sliding to a stop in the plow pile at the side of the trail. The change can come about quickly at this time of year, especially when the sun sinks below the western horizon and the mercury sinks like a stone right along with it.
A strategy that’s gotten me out of trouble more than once when faced with the dreadful reality of pushing my bicycle beside the frozen trail is to “go where the horses go.” And the latter “go” isn’t referring to travel. Horse urine, just as our own, contains the chemical compound urea, which is a byproduct of protein metabolism. When urea is mixed with water or melting snow, it lowers the freezing point of the solution. The higher the concentration of urea, the more effective a “de-icer” it becomes. As disgusting as this entire paragraph may seem, it’s about to get even worse.
The center of the lane upon which the horses travel is generally always the last to freeze and first to thaw because of the consistent “application of urea” to the pavement. When worse comes to worst, the dirty lane is often the only safe option. (This is probably a great time to point out the priceless utility of a good set of bicycle fenders.)
Even though it’s almost always my first choice, sometimes it’s simply impossible or just plain stupid to ride a bike during the winter. It is, however, almost never too rough outside to get out and poke around on foot. It may not be a long-distance trek or a journey from here to there, but sometimes a simple walk around the block when no one else would dare be about can be truly unique and rewarding.
If you wish to see the world from a different point of view, bundle up and head out on a cold, snowy winter’s eve. Poet Robert Frost drew endless inspiration from such forays, and they provided the contemplative kindling for some of his greatest works.
If not necessarily poetically inclined, you may still find beauty in a mundanely familiar landscape that has been dramatically altered by the snow. Take your camera along and look for treasure. It might be waiting as close as a drift at your garden gate or at the foot of a crabapple tree in the puddled light of a streetlamp. This is Ohio in winter. You can’t beat it, so you might as well look for something to love about it.
Remember, if you have comments on this column or questions about the natural world, write The Rail Trail Naturalist, P.O. Box 170, Fredericksburg, OH 44627, or email jlorson@alonovus.com. You also can follow along on Instagram @railtrailnaturalist.