Bring It On
Another thing I like about being a cyclist is that it makes me less afraid of the weather than I would be otherwise.
When you’re inside, hearing or surfing for the weather report, or even when you look out the window and see the rain coming down, you’re apt to be more concerned than you might otherwise be about what’s going to be falling from the sky or blowing through the trees.
But when you’re outside on your bike, even if you’re getting drizzled upon, even if the headwind is pushing you all but backwards, you tend to see that it’s not as bad as you might have thought it was and you’re able to go on about your daily business, the elements be damned.
On Thursday afternoon, at my school, we received an email canceling a late afternoon meeting because near gale-force winds were being predicted for the afternoon commute. Nobody, of course, really minded much getting out a bit early, but as I rode home, it became clear that the worry was a bit hyperbolic. Sure, it was windy, and yes, the Burke-Gilman trail was littered with fallen branches, and indeed, a few times, twigs and leaves blew past my face somewhat too close for comfort, but the day was far from being dangerous enough to require battening down the hatches and staying indoors.
Or today, here in our fair city: it’s dreary and dismal outside, but when you’re out in it, you realize that it’s actually kind of pleasantly misty and that the sky is all shimmery silver edge-to-edge.
Of course, winter hasn’t really begun yet, so I’m pretty sanguine about the season’s gloominess so far. Come December, when my jacket hasn’t dried out for two months and my gloves smell like cottage cheese, I’m sure I’ll be much more inclined to complain than now.
Still, if I just get out in and ride, the worst that will happen is getting wet.
When you’re inside, hearing or surfing for the weather report, or even when you look out the window and see the rain coming down, you’re apt to be more concerned than you might otherwise be about what’s going to be falling from the sky or blowing through the trees.
But when you’re outside on your bike, even if you’re getting drizzled upon, even if the headwind is pushing you all but backwards, you tend to see that it’s not as bad as you might have thought it was and you’re able to go on about your daily business, the elements be damned.
On Thursday afternoon, at my school, we received an email canceling a late afternoon meeting because near gale-force winds were being predicted for the afternoon commute. Nobody, of course, really minded much getting out a bit early, but as I rode home, it became clear that the worry was a bit hyperbolic. Sure, it was windy, and yes, the Burke-Gilman trail was littered with fallen branches, and indeed, a few times, twigs and leaves blew past my face somewhat too close for comfort, but the day was far from being dangerous enough to require battening down the hatches and staying indoors.
Or today, here in our fair city: it’s dreary and dismal outside, but when you’re out in it, you realize that it’s actually kind of pleasantly misty and that the sky is all shimmery silver edge-to-edge.
Of course, winter hasn’t really begun yet, so I’m pretty sanguine about the season’s gloominess so far. Come December, when my jacket hasn’t dried out for two months and my gloves smell like cottage cheese, I’m sure I’ll be much more inclined to complain than now.
Still, if I just get out in and ride, the worst that will happen is getting wet.
posted by Professor Dave at 2:26 PM
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