Burke Gilman Trail
There are plenty of things I like about Seattle: those “seven hills” rising up out of several different bodies of water, the public library system, the general bike-ability of the place, the ready availability of good coffee and decent bread, the fact that so many people I love live here and, among many other things, the Burke Gilman trail, on which I commute most days of the week.
Tonight, I especially appreciated the trail as itenabled me to bike home in pastoral splendor while poor souls in cars lined up for miles in the snow that to them was a headache but to me, a lovely dusting on an already beautiful winter wonderland scene.
As I left Bothell, the snow was coming down pretty hard. About an inch had accumulated in the school’s driveway and cars were beginning their dosey-do dance entering and exiting the parking structure.
People were clumped up waiting for buses that were already twenty minutes late; I considered briefly joining them, but decided to give riding a shot.
The first mile or so was somewhat harrowing, as I had to navigate alongside cars on the snowy streets.
But as soon as I got onto the trail, all was fine. Occasionally, the snow had piled up a bit and going was slippery, but for the most part, the path was only wet or sometimes slushy.
I had the great joy of seeing traffic backed up for blocks upon blocks as I sped by parallel to the road.
It was so satisfying, that as a matter of fact, I even felt pity for the hapless drivers trapped in their cages while I breathed fresh, bracing air, free to catch snowflakes on my tongue and eyelashes all the way home.
My feet got a little cold and I had to stop at Starbucks to fill my thermos with hot water for de-icing my rear cogs, but riding on the Burke warmed my heart all the way.
Tonight, I especially appreciated the trail as itenabled me to bike home in pastoral splendor while poor souls in cars lined up for miles in the snow that to them was a headache but to me, a lovely dusting on an already beautiful winter wonderland scene.
As I left Bothell, the snow was coming down pretty hard. About an inch had accumulated in the school’s driveway and cars were beginning their dosey-do dance entering and exiting the parking structure.
People were clumped up waiting for buses that were already twenty minutes late; I considered briefly joining them, but decided to give riding a shot.
The first mile or so was somewhat harrowing, as I had to navigate alongside cars on the snowy streets.
But as soon as I got onto the trail, all was fine. Occasionally, the snow had piled up a bit and going was slippery, but for the most part, the path was only wet or sometimes slushy.
I had the great joy of seeing traffic backed up for blocks upon blocks as I sped by parallel to the road.
It was so satisfying, that as a matter of fact, I even felt pity for the hapless drivers trapped in their cages while I breathed fresh, bracing air, free to catch snowflakes on my tongue and eyelashes all the way home.
My feet got a little cold and I had to stop at Starbucks to fill my thermos with hot water for de-icing my rear cogs, but riding on the Burke warmed my heart all the way.
posted by Professor Dave at 8:10 PM
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