First snow ride transitional

My favourite rides of the year are often those transitional rides.

Where you feel like the season is really changing because it's the first day of a new
weather or environmental pattern. The examples are few, but I'm sure you've had them - the first hot ride of the year, with searing heat and a matching sunburn; the first leaves falling, sounding wet under your tires (thwap, thwap, thwap, thwap . . . ); when the temperature drops and the leaves dry up (crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch . . .); when the bone-cracking cold hits and you get scared the pain in your toes will stop.

One of the best is the first snow. Riding on virgin snow. Moving through a white expanse, untouched by humans. Such a thing is possible in a city of over two million people. On skinnies - knowing that you have to move slowly, or have your front wheel wash out if you're not careful. So each biomechanical rotation is fluid and even and focused. Under street lights in the early hours of the morning, alone, I am no different than the new snow.

______________________________________________


Streetlit night sky glow
Front tire meeting the untouched
White beneath my wheels

'cross koan

What is the sound of fallen leaves under my tires?

Ace wheelbuild

The best LBS is often a more modest place, like The Bike Place. Louis built me a great set of wheels this summer, and recently did some work on the CrossCheck. He can order some great 'cross tires and will soon be getting me some TRP cantilever brakes. To boot, Louis is a former Ontario Junior Mens' Cyclocross champion (1983).

baiku

leaves on the bike trail

everyone passing me

slow donkey cool air

no-thing

On a good ride, the bike disappears. It is just the movement, alive, riding. There is no I, no bike, no mountain, no road or trail. Even though those elements remain.

Just riding

First there is a mountain, then there is no mountain, then there is.
-- Zen aphorism