Cold Weather Touring

First, let's get some facts on the table. No matter what anybody says, touring in winter leaves a lot to be desired. Like warmth. And daylight. Then there's the road's shoulder where you'd like to ride, except that snowplows have covered it with flakes and pack ice. And candles and batteries eaten up in no time as you wile away the evening hours reading once you've been driven inside your tent at six p.m. There are frozen water bottles when you want a drink, heavier loads to pack just to keep yourself from freezing in camp, the clammy feeling inside warm clothes when you've climbed a hill (and for hours afterward if you're wearing the wrong stuff), the effects of slush on brakes and cables, and the effects of wind chill on your extremities. And let's not forget what no one who has toured in winter and camped in the snow could possibly forget: the finger-numbing, marrow-chilling, before-you've-gotten-warm-by-riding experience of breaking camp at dawn.

That's right, you heard it here, the straight scoop. Winter touring sucks in lots of ways, especially if you do it wrong, and sometimes even when you do it right. But not nearly as much as time spent waiting for warmer weather.

Because the cold is most of what is different about winter touring, let's concentrate on the clothing and other gear necessary to keep you toasty (or at least slightly brown) in the saddle and in camp.

But first, a quick word not about gear and technique but, if you will, philosophy. Remember why you're out there. If it's to prove something to yourself or others, then stay in the saddle all day and camp every night and be happy in your misery. But if your reason has something to do with having fun, keep open the option of an occasional motel, and treat yourself to longer breakfasts in small-town cafes where the locals will gawk and ask,"Why in hell would anyone ride a bike in this weather?!" Know that they don't understand why anyone tours in any season, and have some fun trying to explain. I can't tell you how many two-hour meals of hotcakes and great conversation began just this way.

Staying Warm in the Saddle

You can't. That is, you can't forever. Accepting this fact will keep you from cursing yourself after an hour, and from calling for a ride back home at the end of your first day out. But with a relatively small investment, mostly in clothing that you'll use comfortably in other outdoor activities as well, you can enjoy a two-wheeled tourer's view of the world all year long.

The most important basic thing to remember is to layer. Layering is the wearing of layers of clothing instead of a single, heavy coat. Adding or removing layers of insulation — many layers when we begin, fewer when we warm up — is like turning the thermostat on the wall at home, or moving closer to or away from the fire in camp. It's a principle of active outdoor wear in the cold no matter what the activity, but one that's especially important in any highly aerobic sport like cycling, jogging, cross-country skiing, and more important still when touring. Why more important? Because when you climb steep hills or fight stiff headwinds with heavy loads in tow, you will sweat like there's no tomorrow. And there might not be. Not if you wear the wrong stuff or too much or too little of it. We'll soon get to what the"wrong" clothing is for winter, but I want to stress the point now that anything you do outside when it's freezing cold can have repercussions. When you're touring, when there's no guarantee that you'll reach the next town by nightfall or that there'll be a passing car if you need help, those repercussions can be deadly.