A few years ago on a very cold morning I went for a pootle on my old mountain bike. Halfway around my route I strayed too close to where the road asphalt met the grass, hit a patch of ice and went down hard onto the floor. It all happened in a split second and was scary because I ended up in the middle of the road. I was so grateful that there were no cars around.
Along with a few cuts and a bang to my helmet I did something to my backside—it never showed any signs of bruising but hurt on the right cheek for about six months.
Since then I’ve decided that going out in freezing conditions is not worth the risk. I don’t mind the cold—you soon warm up when you’re moving—but I don’t want to risk a broken bone or something worse.
The pic below shows that riding is out of the picture today so more turbo sessions await me.