I stole one from February last year. This year the weather aligned again and I was able to get a ride in between snow storms.
It was a cold commute in before 8am, about freezing, but clear and sunny. I took it on the chin knowing that it’d be worth it on the way home.
Coming out of work past 4pm it was about 10°C and windy, but I can go all day in ten degrees. I took the long way home, 27 kilometres of leafless trees, rivers with cubist banks of ice shoved into the new mud by our recent floods, and a sky so winter blue that it wriggles before your eyes; all while leaning into fifty kilometre hour gusts of wind. It was glorious!
I can still operate the bike without a thought, but I missed all sorts of apexes. I’m rusty with neglect.
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Note the snow pile in the middle of the road…. |
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The smug I-stole-one-from-winter face |
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Icy verge |
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