The indignities of walking
Now is the winter of our discontent, so penned the Bard. Though Richard III wouldn't have made it until our glorious summer this January. It's cold; Dr. Zhivago cold. The kinda' cold that freezes your milk on the 15 minute walk home from Jewell. That's why I, the 24/7 all weather biker am walking. Like any citizen of The Windy City, I tell folks it ain't the cold; it's the ice. To be a wuss is one thing. To admit it ... is quite another.
It certainly doesn't help that last Sunday I arrived home toasty-warm from the hottest place in The Philippines. So except for Sunday's Full Moon Ride, I've joined the lofty ranks of ... pedestrians. Certainly there are times when wending my way along the fascinating thoroughfares of The Second City would be thoroughly stimulating. This is definitely not the time.
This is the time to hunker down. Imagine a world without cages. Life flows at a slower pace. Folks are routinely late for appointments because they can't find a free place to lock up. And during an extreme winter, for those of us above the Mason-Dixon Line, the bicycle-powered snowplows haven't been cleared the secondary streets. What would you do? Velo-passion is one thing ... insanity is quite another.