“Back in the saddle” is one thing — but 1 mile trips don’t count. Fact is that for almost a week, I was spending very little time outside. I was sneezing more. I could feel the body-mind-soul holistic continuum shifting to the “inside to inside” mentality. Ick! At the bike coop, the “Out SPoken” cyclists show that WRFU airs now had a guy from Calvin’s Challenge, so I was at least inspired to crank out 89 minutes on the Inside Trek, some of them even involving perspiration, but that’s still Inside.
I checked to see when the busses leave later from Parkland and discovered that the night routes send the Green out here, so I’d have essentially door to door service.
I didn’t yield to the temptation. The pavement was wet, not frozen — though enough of it was slush so that cars made as much noise driving through it as they would in a downpour. It was a little tough getting The Stuff together — it’s only been a week but I couldn’t find anything. Two of my hats were here at work, so I had to just stuff my hood under the helmet (not as good for visibility and mirror adjustments). The bus approached as I decided to spend four minutes shoving the traces of snow off my walk, and then I took off. It made me quite happy when there were two other cyclists at LIncoln, tho’ roads were smooth enough for me to wish I had working gears. Um, yes, that slush means my puir bike has salt and wet and all kinds of mean, nasty ugly things. Tomorrow is Tuesday and I shall pause at the CBP and do some cleaning.