I can remember mountain biking in the snow. My brakes would melt the snow sticking to my rims which would then re-freeze to form a glaze of ice on the braking surfaces. I'd have to steer into piles of snow when I wanted to slow down. The other thing I remember is how quickly I could go from vertical to horizontal if I hit a patch of ice that I wasn't expecting.
I don't do that anymore.
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My greatest fear is all of my kids standing around my coffin and talking about "how sensible" dad was.