An early Saturday morning commute, overtime bound. Fresh fallen and still falling powder blowing past and thrown up under Jake’s wheels to encrust my legs. Gloriously vacant streets. Few car tracks. No footprints. No bike tracks. Clear, unridden snow down the LRT trail. I’m the first out and pass no other tracks until Mill Creek where I follow one single bike line up into the broad path through the trees.
Riding home at noon on the road the snow is half-packed by cars and I make constant corrections as the skinny, unstudded 35s skid and slip looking for purchase. I conciously loosen my tight grip on the bars and relax. My course is like a drunkard’s walk.
After 20 snowy kilometers Jake wants more but duty calls. Momma’s sick and the children need minding.