Bike 5
The winter that wouldn't end.
A forecast of snow for the evening did not encourage me to get out of bed in the morning.
In mid-March, it occurred to me that I hadn't wiped out yet all winter, but I suspected the time would come. Yes, with all the ice, the chickens have come home to roost -- twice. I shouldn't complain; generally my wipeouts are my own fault, caused by overcautiousness, and that was certainly the case today in the shadowed (read iced up) back alley less than a block from home. Exactly as I feared, I went down slowly, cursing and grumbling.
At 6:00 p.m., I sprang from my office to the window, suddenly remembering the forecast snow, and hoping if it had not yet come, it wouldn't. The ground was still dry, but even as I looked through the glass, flakes began to fall.
By 11:30, there was a decent blanket of snow, traffic on Osborne disturbed precipitation such that getting splashed was a greater problem than slipping on ice.
Whoever thought April was a good month for a gimmick to encourage the masses to daily forays via human-powered locomotion clearly does not live on the Canadian Prairies.
A forecast of snow for the evening did not encourage me to get out of bed in the morning.
In mid-March, it occurred to me that I hadn't wiped out yet all winter, but I suspected the time would come. Yes, with all the ice, the chickens have come home to roost -- twice. I shouldn't complain; generally my wipeouts are my own fault, caused by overcautiousness, and that was certainly the case today in the shadowed (read iced up) back alley less than a block from home. Exactly as I feared, I went down slowly, cursing and grumbling.
At 6:00 p.m., I sprang from my office to the window, suddenly remembering the forecast snow, and hoping if it had not yet come, it wouldn't. The ground was still dry, but even as I looked through the glass, flakes began to fall.
By 11:30, there was a decent blanket of snow, traffic on Osborne disturbed precipitation such that getting splashed was a greater problem than slipping on ice.
Whoever thought April was a good month for a gimmick to encourage the masses to daily forays via human-powered locomotion clearly does not live on the Canadian Prairies.
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