Temps in the mid forties have been transforming Minneapolis into the land of 10,000 puddles. Aside from some minor allergy flare-ups caused by thawing dog poop, the change is most welcome. While the alleys have turned into a maze of unnavigable ice trenches and dirt clods, the bike lanes are visible again. Spirits are definitely up in the bike room at work where we’re back up to our full winter riding compliment of four saddles. The Opa is much more responsive without mittens on.
My dry cleaning bill is going to be through the roof as I’ve been showing up to work drenched in sweat. It’s taking some time to figure out exactly how many layers to shed.
I’ve enjoyed this week’s riding more than I could have anticipated and almost pity the poor sods battling downtown traffic in their cars. The wind and sounds of the city are best experienced on slow moving wheels. Cruising down Hennepin Avenue is becoming my favorite part of the daily commute. The bus stops are packed with souls just waiting to be shown the light of the great bicycle. Maybe one odd person on a Dutch bike can expose a practical alternative to the gear-laden sport bikers one normally encounters?
Of course, it’s still February and more snow and freezing temps will surely come, but these brief moments of warmth are to be cherished. The riders amongst us are able to savor it a bit more than the average man.