The title of this one was the date of the last after work ride I was on that accounted for anything. I think this one accounted for something cause I got out after work and didn't suck as hard as I thought I would. Unlike last Saturday night there were a few souls down in the valley. A few bike commuters that I graciously bowed down to as they passed by. In short, those folks are my hero. They ride day in, day out, regardless of weather, or any other sort of bullshit that would keep one off the bike. They are champs and when I become mayor I will have a bronzed statue of a bike commuter right outside city hall. Needless to say. I have lots of respect for bike commuters, and if any of you read this are one of the "chosen" ones. I am truly honoured.
A hill repeat here and there and it was time to head back. falling snow and dropping temperatures greeted me on the way back. It wasn't nearly as cold as Saturday night and my lobster gloves were cooking my hands. I was forced to wear them as my regular Winter gloves have gone the way of the typewriter. I am sitting and patiently waiting to see what might be under the tree. As I saunter to bed I will think of the falling snow and the fog from my breath and how it looked in my lights with the haunting shadows of the trees as I rode alone in Mill Creek back to my vehicle. Ah riding, there isn't anything much better.
|can you say "warm?"|
|a patch, the only patch of melted snow in mill creek, odd.|