Twenty-one Point Five

Today marked my lowest morning temperature departure, at 21.5F. Pretty chilly, but this temp has more an effect on my mind before I get on my bike than while I am pedaling. I made a brief stop at the coffee shop and met another fellow cyclist there. He introduced me to several of his acquaintances. Nothing like expanding social connections as a result of riding around. Anyway, after a brief conversation I soon had to get going to the office and within 10 minutes I was off again in the deep chill. 


Despite these very frosty temps I saw three other cyclists outside today, including this one (who I think I've seen before) who didn't seem to benefit from decent cold weather gear:

Cold Ride to Polls

Cold weather (maybe 35 F this morning) has returned but didn't stop me from biking to the polls this morning. I was queried by a tall man in a formal hat and coat, holding a stack of Toomey leaflets (unfortunately), as I unlocked my bike.  He asked about the number of gears I have and how fast I can go, responding with a slowly spoken, "I see what you mean..."  What was to understand?  Perhaps the Sestak button on my panniers?

26 degrees and smoking

Driving seemed an easy choice this morning, being 26 degrees outside with snow slush blocking the space in which I normally ride.  But soon after driving my white whale away from the garage I saw a figure pedaling ahead of me in the distance. It wasn't the green bike lady. Instead it was a man riding eastbound on the side of the road opposing westbound traffic (always suspicious). When I passed him I could see a cigarette in his right hand, his short haircut hatless, and his seemingly thin sweatshirt open to the cold wind. He pedaled patiently and slowly; nonchalantly. Perhaps the cigarette kept him warm, or was metabolic inhibition catalyzed by the coffin nail dangling betwixt his numb fingers? Hard to say, but in either case I admired his choice of transport.