February 10, 2014 § 3 Comments
The bike lane is piled high with two feet of snow packed in. Trailing down into the road is a brown crunchy snow-salt-ice. I skirt the edge of this wall. Sometimes it’s in a gross slushy brown snow-water, spitting salt on my bike and into my derailleur. Sometimes it’s on packed in snow-ice, making me wonder which icy grooves are safely maneuverable. Other times it’s just salt water, puddled in giant potholes, keeping me focused, dodging.
Cars whizz by, unaware at the treachery on the edges of the road.
I’m rocking my Nokian Suomi IceSpeed metal studded tires. They’re friction machines – clear pavement is a harder grind and you lose the whee! effect of downhills, but not eating pavement on unplowed snowpacked roads makes it seem like a fair trade.
Impossibly there are other bike commuters – face masks pulled up, cranking in the opposite direction, we silently nod before focusing back on the road, comrades in snow cycling, few and far between.
We pile our bikes high, lock them up, simple machines persevering in the face of the world literally freezing over.