BEAM. it doesn't make sense, doesn't make one inch of sense. but i lurve riding to work in the snow and/or when it's this cold. i just had the best time all week this week.

most of the night was freezing or below freezing, so yesterday's snow/wet didn't get too much melt in. it was probably a bit below 0 when i set out, and enviro can sez the wind-chill was -4. snowing slowly and quietly, little tiny sparse sub-zero flakes floating down. whole city those quiet shades of grey and white, with that light all over it. most of the roads were cleared and/or sanded, but there was about an inch of whatever it was on some of them. i'm still baffled by that. how can something be so miserable and anxious an experience if you travel one way, and two steps away from that world there's this other life, that's the dead opposite? the gap between driver's seat and saddle is just that extreme and that wide.

i expected trouble going up the first block or two, on the bike path. it's a short but distinct grade for less than half a block, and it was clear the sand truck hadn't been there last night. i kept being ready to slip because of the grade, expecting trouble, but nothing happened. just powered steadily up it making that wonderful crunch-crunch-whisper-crunch noise, and the only time i slowed down was when a car showed up at the top of the block and started down the same patch. i got carefully out of the way until they were gone because whoa nelly milo, i wouldn't have wanted to have any bikes in front of me if i'd been steering that car. it was like that for the first kilometre or so, then it was bare wet pavement all the rest of the way; i barely had to slow down from my normal speeds except to cover myself for cars coming out of less-clear intersections. nice to see the city apparently sands the bike road in the same priority as the major car routes.

i had a nice moment at the major intersection just in front of the bridge. it's cyclist-controlled, and feeds a little bike-only left turn straight across three or four lanes and the entry ramp, into the bike shoulder that leads alongside the ramp and eventually onto the mup for the bridge. i keep an eye on it, because it's usually backed up with traffic feeding onto the bridge, and drivers are watching the queue to the ramp, not the light. never assume, when someone stops, that they've seen me and know i'm coming. so today there was a semi leaking over the intersection marker as it followed the queue, when the light changed. the truck stopped, but it took a moment of watching to make sure he was stopped for the light, not just the queue. nice. i gave him a big grin for his manners as soon as i realised he was leaving me room to do my thing, and he waved and grinned back. those kinds of little moments keep me happy with my species all day. i love the friendly eye-contact with the car people.

just powered all the way up the bridge. tracks of maybe two other bikes in barely dust-thick snow all the way, and nobody else. pretty pretty city when the snow is on it - all those different dimensions and textures out there for the eye. no snow going down, and once again it was distinctly warmer on the other side. led sez 0 again, but i swear. it felt more like 6 or 7 degrees. i was slopping around outside of workin my birkenstocks all day long - it just didn't feel all that cold. just a wonderful ride, all the way.

i made myself a bet yesterday about mr ego in the spandex undies. the bet was that i'd see his bike in the rack today, just because yesterday when i tried to start a cheerful little moment between fellow bikers he sneered smugly and superiorly until it transpired that i'd ridden the day that it snowed, when he had not. then he lost all his oomph and started to look unhappy and anxious with life. not exactly a rocket scientist's bet, but eh. i owe myself a nickel.

coming home was coooooooooooollllllllddddd. and dark. frost/ice patterns thick like lichen on the upward part of the bridge, but again i didn't have any of the trouble i was braced for. i went a slightly longer way just to get to the bank-and-grocery strip, and the only moment i did have was on the way home with a gallon of milk slung over one handlebar and a frozen pizza on the other. not all that smart considering the weather, but i felt okay enough about it. the last couple of side-road blocks coming home felt like the risky sections. on those i did feel some squirming from my tires; just enough to give the strange-effect feeling and provide a warning, but it was fine.

i feel really lucky. this is my first winter even thinking about riding a bike, and for an introduction this week's weather has been just about perfect. it's had just enough to give me an idea what to watch out for in more real winter, but nothing to cause me any trouble while i got the idea. it's getting strange suddenly to remember that i'll only be going to this job and doing this ride for five more weeks - just when i truly really can't stand the job another minute longer, i start to feel bulletproof about the ride.

songs: devil baby, mark knopfler; burning of auchidoon, june tabor; easy money, martin simpson.