I wrote this after an interesting encounter on my ride home tonight.

Maybe it will make sense to someone other than me.



To my winter brethren


are we so Great in number
that No look
No nod
No smile
No wink of recognition
should pass between us?

I see You
a phosphorescent patch of yellow
against a setting sun
Your tempo matching mine
quick pulse with each revolution
stoic shoulders to the northwest wind

I lean in thighs pressing down
A rounded staccato beat
just a hair faster now
You, my double, my twin
unbeknownst pursued
a steel steed gliding over ice

what is Your story
who are You
why are You too
rolling along over white
a dose of warmth
wrapped in fibre layers

I pull within a grasp
our carbide tips rat a tatting
on frozen chalk marked pavement
tracking straight across gnarled marble
pathways to our huddled homes
ready to reward our ride

"Evening", says I
Not quite
But almost or t'will be soon enough
I have miles to go before I sleep
And You
eyes set hard against the wind

Nothing
The reply is empty
perhaps some enchanted song
Lies under that muffled headdress
(so like my own)
some ear plugged accompaniment

my eyes search for yours
swaddled like a bedouin prince
a narrow gap in black
framing determined orbs
in the fading light of dusk
they catch a moment

are You like Me
a look
a nod
a smile
a wink of recognition unreturned
Nothing

in this land of zeros
no heat
now warmed
by the chase
and the effort to pull away
left chilled

You are that me
in dependent s e p e r a t e
That sees no likeness
in a mirror of ice
A cold shoulder
to an even colder world

are we so Great in number
that No look
No nod
No smile
No wink of recognition
should pass between us?

Interesting. I've felt kinship (I guess you would call it) with other riders, and have greeted them and been ignored. But just as many times I've been greeted in return. Cyclists are just people

EDIT: Nice poem, BTW. You expressed your thoughts very well.

I see the same two people almost every day. Fortunately, they say hello and we even have exchanged names. Nothing like 30 below zerex and icy paths to build a bond. Great poem!

It is now March, and thank goodness for that. It means we won't have any more February snow storms this year.

Just a March one on Monday. Yuck, and it is supposed to stay cold too, so it won't melt right away. Spring isn't too far away, but the way things are going we'll have a blizzard on March 21.

I’m not really a poetry afficianado, but I did think that the sparse, almost clipped meter did capture the sharpness and no-nonsense tenor of a cold winter ride.

On 02-28-14, 10:13 PM, buzzman replied to this thread, “Am I only one smiling through the weather lately,” started by tsl

I read buzzman’s reply before I read the above poem (posted at 02-28-14, 09:50 PM). On the first read, I thought buzz was riding along thinking he was setting a torrid pace, and then got passed by someone riding a beach cruiser.

I’m sure you’re aware, buzz, that there have been occasional threads about greetings between cyclists, probably referrable to nice weather riding. The most recent to which I replied was “Greetings to/from other cyclists”:

I don't really think about what other cyclists have on their mind as we pass each other, whether or not we exchange greetings. I certainly do agree that we cold weather cyclists are a special fraternity of brethren, as you posted in a prior thread about winter cycling:

Did I get it?

On very cold winter days when I come across another cyclist there are often gestures of mutual respect exchanged.

On not so cold winter days there is this dude that keeps riding by me like I'm standing still. Last time he said "Hello" as he went by and I said "Good Morning" in return.

Next time he rides by, I'd like to push him over with my foot.

We're all brethren until the commuter race starts.

I would never claim to be PC, but as a self-proclaimed wordsmith, I was trying to figure a nongender specific term for "Brethren.”

Probably didn't hear you, and if he did, was too damned cold to reply. Some really cold rides are to be endured or survived, and aren't so much fun. I never assume someone else is in the same frame of mind as I am.

Don't be such a sourpuss. Some people just ride fast and don't mean to show off. I bet some people think I'm trying to make them feel bad. I just ride faster than most do. That's all.

"Brethren" in an informal context can simply mean any person (of either gender) belonging to a particular group- especially when used ironically or humorously. In a more formal context it can mean a fellow pilgrim on a spiritual journey, usually male. I'm using it as a bit of both.

This was an experience about another person who dressed like me, had a bike like mine, looked like me, was a similar age and was of the same gender. That they were riding home from Boston on a very cold February evening at dusk across an open landscape where I see so few other cyclists made it all the more interesting to me. Like tsl in another thread I happen to find these winter rides exhilarating- otherwise, why do them?

Does this distinction make us, as alan s says, "a member of an elite, secret subculture."?

Recently I was out in a very remote region cross country skiing. It was stunningly majestic. Out of nowhere suddenly coming towards me was another skier. He was roughly my age, my height and build, similarly equipped and as he approached I wondered if there would be an exchange of greeting at all. It was the kind of challenging terrain that can leave you breathless from both its beauty and its changes in altitude. As it was we simultaneously stopped and I blurted out a "How ya' doin?". To which he replied the obvious, "Blissed out. How 'bout you?". "Exactly the same.", came my reply. We took the time for a brief chat, where he discovered that I was the same guy he sees doing the steep climb on my bike that leads to our hidden little town and the vast expanse of forest in which we found ourselves. (How he figured that out I have no idea.) It was the kind of small, simple exchange that has a resonance and a meaning for me. If I wished to be shielded from such encounters I would choose to travel by car or snowmobile, encased in steel or wrapped in a helmet with a plastic visor moving at higher speeds. Separated from my environment and my fellow travelers.

At the same time, I recognize that not every one who chooses to bike in the winter or travel in remote regions under their own power when the temperature is below zero wants any connection with a fellow traveler and I do respect that choice. I have no desire to impose sociability in a situation where an individual might very well wish to be as far from the madding crowd as possible.

I saw as much of myself in the other rider's non-response as I might have had he engaged in conversation.

"You are that me
in dependent s e p e r a t e
That sees no likeness
in a mirror of ice
A cold shoulder
to an even colder world"

and yes, BTW, Jim, I do think "you got it."

I'm just another schmuck out there going to or from work. Don't view myself as special because I'm on a bike. The real troopers are the folks who have the patience to endure the traffic around here in a car. Always amused that some people think I'm some kind of superhuman, able to survive the extremes of the outdoors. The reality is bike commuting is a welcome break from being indoors or in a car, and makes me feel alive. BTW, nice poem.

Yeah, now we get the March snow storms. Woo hoo.

To quote Homer J. "Lousy Smarch weather!"

I'm wondering if it is the same guy who passes me occasionally. Most riders who pass me, I may be able to keep up with them for an 1/8 mile, 1/4 mile, 1/2 mile, whatever - if I really suck it up. There's one guy that comes by me at least +5 mph, probably more. I can't match his pace for 2 seconds.

I think he said hello to me, though it was hard to tell, what with the Doppler effect and all.

I lean in thighs pressing down
A rounded staccato beat
just a hair faster now

OP you just supported my theory that anytime there are two cyclists going the same direction there is a bike race. Whether they both know it or not is another issue.

Yeah, that's pretty much how I feel. Especially on days like this past Friday when I serenely glided past about 2000 cars trapped in a massive clusterfook. I admire their patience.

I like this post.

Oh, I wasn't being serious. I'm pretty sure I've met him since he has fairly distinctive bike. He's an alright guy and I'm sure he just likes to ride fast. Besides I'd feel horrible if I were ever to succumb to my darker thoughts and actually push him over.

Now if he were to fall of his own accord... Well, there's not much I would be able to do about that.

My humor detector is often defective.

Like “mankind”?

I was looking forward to your explanation since I was surprised at reading a nicely crafted poem about just an apparent snub on the bikepath.

One regular commuter in the opposite direction was “Good buddy.” One day after about one year, I was stopped adjusting something and he stopped. We exchanged information about destinations, and eventually about each other on E-mails periodically over a couple more years, even after we no longer encountered each other on the commute (he stopped).

FWIW, I'm often lost in my own little world while on my commute. Though I wouldn't deliberately ignore a greeting from another cyclist (my mother raised me better than that), it's very real possibility that a bike wouldn't register as anything more than another (moving) obstacle to be avoided. I've exchanged a few pleasantries with people while stopped at an intersection but for the most part I see my commute as a twice a day retreat into my head and/or a chance to get in a work out rather than as an opportunity for a social encounter.

Very cold days are a little different and I'll often find myself counting the number of other bikes I see.

I think either Friday or Saturday evening I was on my way out for a pint and saw two people on mountain bikes coming up the hill toward me, it was 12F. As I passed they gave me a hand wave, but since I was kinda surprised anyone else was out I wasn't ready to wave back.

I posted to the recent commuter thread, "How often do you commute in the dark?"

In daylight, my mind is more wide open.

Interesting post. I am very much an introvert. I don't talk much, I'm nothing like my wife who greets just about everyone when we're out riding and can make new friends anywhere. Me, I just tend toward ignoring everybody and feeling lots of distance and a degree of arrogance and animosity. But I don't think I'm much different from most guys who like to ride bikes, and I think this distance and arrogance is just a reflection of the vibes I get from most guys I see out riding. I'm sure that if I knew the guy who was going by, I'd be quite friendly and open, but for most guys I don't know, my attitude is just "f- off!" under my breath! Bike commuting tends to be quite competitive for those who are just naturally socially insecure, at least that's my experience, so this is something that those who tend to be more social need to understand. I and lots of other guys ride bikes because we're too socially dysfunctional to join sports teams. We hate everybody; we don't like greeting anybody, unless we know them, and by the time recognition sets in, it's too late, they're way down the road in the other direction!

So that's my excuse for not responding to your cheery wave. It's not personal!

Luis

I suppose you could put people on a scale in terms of how much social interaction with strangers they'd want while commuting. I'd probably fall right between you and buzzman. I'm not looking for it but wouldn't avoid it as long it was quick. I'm chronically in a hurry.

I don't feel any animosity towards other riders (or drivers for that matter) unless they've done something dangerous or were just plain rude.