Being the avid cyclists and wine-o’s that we are, James and I thought it would be great fun to combine these two loves and bike to the Woodinville wineries. 40 miles round trip on a Sunday. Never mind that I had not been on my bike for 2 months.
We started out riding to our favorite brunch spot, Volunteer Park Cafe, to fuel up for the trip. Then, we made a pit stop at a bike shop near U Village to pump up his tires and purchase some seriously warm (and pricey) gloves for me as mine were leaving my fingers numb. Needless to say, one is willing to do everything in one’s power to be as comfortable as possible when riding for such a long distance in such freezing weather.
Upon our arrival in Woodinville, we started to notice a lot more snow on the ground. Tired and chilled to the bone, we waddled into our first winery, Chateau Ste. Michelle, without having gotten lost once (thank you, iPhone). The first question we get; “has the blizzard started yet?” According to the weather forecast, snow was expected in the area, and it was supposed to have already began. Not something we wanted to hear while still thawing and before our first glass of vino.
Choosing to rehydrate with wine rather than water, the first tasting went right to our heads, but not enough so that we didn’t feel the sharp 10 degree drop in temperature when crossing the street to Columbia Winery. As usual, we started talking and lost track of time while at Columbia. And suddenly we were drunk and it was getting late.
Next stop: Januik Winery for pizza from a wood fired oven and naturally, more wine. It was then that we started to face facts: the snow was just starting to come down along with nightfall, and we were 20 miles from home. Our options were to (A) ride home in misery and probably end up frostbitten, or (B) call for help. But with snow rapidly accumulating on the streets, option A was becoming even more unattractive, not to mention dangerous.
So, after a bit of coercing, my father (who lives about 10 minutes from the wineries) agreed to drive his giant Denali to rescue us, throw our bikes in the back and cart us back to Seattle. Not without a bit of griping, of course. Even so, those are the times when living in the same city as your parents becomes very convenient. Thanks, dad!