Winter Rider Down
Life as a winter bike commuter, notes on frost bite, photos of the winter sun, a gingerbread tribute, and an update on the book launch for Northern Bull.
Here we are at the end of 2025, a year of both wonderful joys and terrible tragedies, love and loss. This time last year, I had finished writing about our European cycling adventures, and I wasn’t sure that I’d have much to say now that we were back to small-town life in Canada. But, I’m happy to report that this year I wrote 10 times, about once a month (I missed January and April). Not bad, considering the job, kid sports, chores and other general life stuff. It seems I still have a lot to say about biking. My goal is to continue writing about biking, baked goods and probably rhubarb at least once a month in 2026. Like a good cup of coffee or tea, I hope these posts will give you a little moment of rest when they come your way.
This month I report on my successes and failures as a winter rider, give a small tribute to my Great Aunt Donna and update on the book launch for Northern Bull.
Winter Biking - Month One
Everything was going fine with winter biking. The temperature bounced easily between -20 °C and -25 °C. My clothing system was good. Snowpants over longjohns or fleece-lined tights, a wool jacket, a puffer jacket, a balaclava, ski mitts. I was feeling good.
Then things got colder. It was -30 °C. Then -35°C. My lock froze, and I had to go back to my office, boil water in the staff kitchen and go back outside to pour it over the frozen lock. Then my eyes got cold, so I decided to buy some ski goggles.
“These will be good when it starts to get brighter out,” the store manager at the sports store told me, “try them out.” I looked outside, and I could indeed see the contrast between snow in shadow and snow out of shadow. Sold!
But later that day, when I went to bike home, I realized my mistake.
I had tried the goggles on during my lunch hour, but I’m biking in the morning and evening… and in December it’s very dark. I didn’t need goggles to help with the sun. I needed goggles to help with the dark. I couldn’t see anything biking home, but if I lifted my goggles, my face would get frostbite.
The Sun in December
I Give Up Biking
On a Friday evening, biking home from work, my balaclava slipped down and exposed a tiny patch of skin under my goggles.
“What’s wrong with your face?” Pierre asked later that night. “It looks puffy.”
Frostbite. I thought it would go away, but the next day it seemed worse. It got red and swollen, and it burned. I’ve lived in the north most of my life. I’m well acquainted with frostbite, so I was annoyed with myself. I felt like an idiot. I looked up home remedies for frostbite faces1, and cracked open an aloe vera leaf, smearing the sticky contents all over my face. 30 seconds later, it was all absorbed. I did that three times, and my face was finally soothed.
I hoped that things would warm up again after the weekend, but the cold weather was like my Grandma after church — she had visiting to do and would not be rushed.
On Monday, Environment Canada reported that it would ‘feel like’ -48 outside. Pierre drove me to work. And again on Tuesday.
On Wednesday, I decided to protect myself from frostbite by walking to work. I bundled up, stepped outside my house onto the small lane and was nearly run over by an SUV. I angrily flipped my middle finger at the speeding car, which was pointless since their rear window was covered in snow and I was wearing mitts.
“Do you want to bike to work with me?” My friend offered.
I declined.
“Do you want to try out my new electric bike?” My neighbour friend suggested.
I declined.
Winter cycling kicked my butt. I wasn’t hardcore.
5 Good Things Winter Riding
Grumbling aside, I will bike to work again in 2026, I’ll just be a fair weather cyclist and wait for warmer temperatures, at least -30 °C. After all, before I was viciously attacked by the air, there were some good things to note about winter riding.
Frostbite and Christmas indulgences aside, my body feels good. I have more energy and am happier - which is saying something for December.
One evening, a stranger approached me as I was fumbling with my bike lock. “I have a present for you,” she said. It was a vest with flashing LED lights. Amazingly kind.
One morning, on my way to work, Gary, the old-timer that cruises around Yellowknife on a 3-wheel electric bike waved to me when he passed going in the other direction. What a thrill.
Not having to scrape frosted windows or walk to my frozen parked car is a great as I thought it would be.
Free transportation for the win!
I try an Electric Bike
Later in the month, after I had finally gotten over my run-in with frostbite, I finally took up my neighbour-friend’s offer to try her Benno. An electric bike, with fat, studded tires and a ‘turbo’ setting.
I drove it down the street and onto the Yellowknife Bay ice road to a friend’s houseboat. Once again, it was too dark with my goggles on to make out the difference between the hard-pack snow of the ice road and the softer snow on the side, but I was able to cruise over the hard and soft bits without issue. It didn’t feel like a motorbike, I definitely had to pedal, but the extra ooomf of pedal assist through the thicker snow was incredible. I’d for sure get one of these if I lived on the bay. The bike also has lights and an amazing rear bike rack for kids to sit on.
Baking Tribute - Gingerbread Houses
As a small tribute to my Great Aunt Donna, who passed away this month, I dedicate these two gingerbread houses made by Pierre and Lucas. They are bright, sweet and super fun - just like Aunt Donna. Always laughing and giving giant life-affirming hugs, Aunt Donna literally cruised around the world with her husband, Ken. She was also the fastest and most intimidating double solitaire player I’ve ever met. Every time I play the game and manage a fast series of card slapping, I think of her.
Book Launch at the Gold Range Bar
There are three things that I’m particularly excited about for my book launch.
It’s at the Gold Range. Northern Bull has several scenes at the bar, so it’s great fun to do a reading about people in the Gold Range while in the Gold Range.
It’s in January. Northern Bull takes place over one January day, and the cold and dark of the 3rd week of January is a very specific sort of setting.
The Music. There will be fiddle music at the start of the night and Welder’s Daughter at the end. What could be more perfect?!
Next Post
Stay tuned for January’s news with highlights from the Book Launch and answers to big questions like, ‘Is it possible to eat too much vitamin D in January?’
If you really want to see something gross, check out stages of frostbite online.