Steady falling snow against grey skies did not encourage bike riding. But when the sun broke through late afternoon, I got up my gumption to leave the house for a short jaunt to the Forks.
Leaving behind the gloves was a mistake but otherwise, it wasn't too bad. Underneath the Norwood Bridge, the bike path was covered with rivulets of ice from meltage dripping down from the bridge, and for the width of the two bridge spans, the river was flowing water right up at the surface, whereas the rest of the way appeared to be completely snowed over yet.
That small view of open water was a reminder of the pending flood we'll see this spring, and of the great vulnerability we have to the elements: all it would take is the combination of above zero temperatures and an enormous ice jam, and we'll have some seriously rising water.
Leaving behind the gloves was a mistake but otherwise, it wasn't too bad. Underneath the Norwood Bridge, the bike path was covered with rivulets of ice from meltage dripping down from the bridge, and for the width of the two bridge spans, the river was flowing water right up at the surface, whereas the rest of the way appeared to be completely snowed over yet.
That small view of open water was a reminder of the pending flood we'll see this spring, and of the great vulnerability we have to the elements: all it would take is the combination of above zero temperatures and an enormous ice jam, and we'll have some seriously rising water.
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