I like bikes. It's very likely that you've gotten that impression already, what with me toting my kids around on my steed, hosting a topless bike ride for my 30th birthday, and forever imprinting my green bean on my skin. I love my bike so much that on more than one occasion I have yelled at vehicular drivers putting me in danger or giving me dirty looks, made at least one otherwise normal conversation considerably more awkward by getting all advocate-y, spent hours practicing tricks in empty parking lots and ending up with skinned elbows and knees, and staying up way past my bedtime drinking beer and getting my hands greasy. I love all of it. Even biking in winter.
Riding a bike is different for everybody. Some people get pretty hardcore with their gear, some don't. Some people adhere to every single traffic rule promulgating automobile dominance, some don't. I like to keep it a healthy balance, and I think one of the fiercest manifestations of my love for biking is doing it year round in upstate New York. Wintertime biking is no joke, and while riding on two wheels anytime and anyplace is bound to provide a bounty of opportunities for growth, I feel like I learn some pretty important lessons when the temperatures drop and most people leave their bicycles in the basement. Here are the top five:
5. Winter Landscapes are Magical
There is no doubt that I live in a special place. Ithaca is known for its bountiful agricultural land, serene Cayuga Lake, and of course, powerful waterfalls (Ithaca is gorges, ya know?). Summer in Ithaca is as utopic as Eden but with multiple universities to keep everybody on the up and up. Travelers flock to Ithaca when it's warm, and just as many locals flee for sunnier zip codes when it's cold. Sure, it gets chilly and wet, but my goodness, I'll never be willing to give up this view:
When I'm riding in the middle of the road with no cars in sight as snowflakes careen like meteor showers behind a screen door, the world feels like my oyster. If you don't appreciate a scene like this, I fear you aren't paying attention. I know that cruising down a Nicaraguan dirt road would provide infinite pleasantries compared to sloshing through sub zero temperatures and inches of snow, but as far as I'm concerned, nowhere else is as quiet and pure and playful as this place is on a cold, precipitous night. Unless I'm snowboarding, I wouldn't want to experience moving through winter any other way.
4. Sometimes Slower is Better
I move pretty fast. In love, on the softball field, during an intense game of charades; I am a fast walking, faster talking speedster. I feel like life is too short to wait for things to happen, so I make them happen. I breathe deeply and do lunges regularly. I like to feel wind in my hair and movement in my feet. Obviously, biking provides an amazing outlet for me. Sometimes, when I'm riding on an open stretch, getting sweaty and out of breath, I feel the most at peace with the world as I ever do.
That being said, I probably appear a little spastic to people at times, and I understand the deep value in slowing down and taking in the environment. There are definitely times when I choose to move at a more leisurely pace, like when I lounge on the beach or read a book in my hammock. But biking in the winter is one of the few things that forces me to slow down. Instead of only yielding at a stop sign so that I can beat a line of traffic, I am happy in the winter to slow my roll completely and wait for cars. This is a matter of safety when the roads are slippery and visibility is sub par, but I appreciate the impact reducing my speed has on my spirit. When I'm snailing through a slushy white road cover, I have a little time to contemplate exactly where it is that I'm going. It's worth it to take a moment to realize that external conditions cannot deter me from my destination but still that I must heed and respect the actuality of what is going on around me. Plus, I'm grateful for the meditative sounds of my wheels on the snow.
That being said, I probably appear a little spastic to people at times, and I understand the deep value in slowing down and taking in the environment. There are definitely times when I choose to move at a more leisurely pace, like when I lounge on the beach or read a book in my hammock. But biking in the winter is one of the few things that forces me to slow down. Instead of only yielding at a stop sign so that I can beat a line of traffic, I am happy in the winter to slow my roll completely and wait for cars. This is a matter of safety when the roads are slippery and visibility is sub par, but I appreciate the impact reducing my speed has on my spirit. When I'm snailing through a slushy white road cover, I have a little time to contemplate exactly where it is that I'm going. It's worth it to take a moment to realize that external conditions cannot deter me from my destination but still that I must heed and respect the actuality of what is going on around me. Plus, I'm grateful for the meditative sounds of my wheels on the snow.
3. Falling Hurts, and it's Okay
Unfortunately, there is no reduction in speed that can completely prevent wintertime crashing. It happens to all of us, or at least to those of us who don't spend our autumn evenings putting studded tires on our sexy frames in preparation for roads that will soon look like something from a Tolkein novel: we fall down. I have been upright one second and on the ground before the next, my shoulder crushed, knee on fire, and ankles tangled in a greasy, frozen chain. No amount of attention to black ice will prevent shelter from the inevitable tumble into a snowbank. When the roads are slick, sloshy, or covered in fierce winter sludge, bikes slip, and falling hurts.
For better or worse, the only way to get where I am going, and hopefully even faster now that maybe my leg is bleeding under my pants and my wrist is feeling a little tingly in the not so scintillating way, is to keep biking. Many layers of clothing and freshly fallen snow provide a little padding. So, I stand up, make sure my pedals are intact, dust the snow off of my coat, and ride on. Falling off of a bike is like being bucked from a horse: I am left to wonder why my stallion has betrayed me. Truthfully, the only betrayal that could exist would be if I stopped riding because some part of it felt too hard. Aren't we all better than our challenges? There is a dignity in riding a bike with the snowy smear of failure on my clothes and the cringe of humility in my eyes. I do not mean to imply that the risk of serious injuries or even fatalities should be taken lightly, but I am still here to write about my accidents. My skin has been broken, but not my bike nor my desire to ride it, and in the end, I know how much there is to learn from lying on the ground.
2. My Legs are Strong
Have you ever been on a stationary bike and tried to stop the wheels on a dime? Not so easy, huh? Imagine riding a bike like that, a fixed gear, going 18 mph on an urban street, coming to a stop sign and trying to halt while weaving in and out of six inch weather rivets made by car tires and unplowed snow. All that I can say is that I have never rear ended a vehicle, and I would call such a feat a miracle if I didn't know how strong my legs have become. Riding a fixie means that all of the forward and backward momentum of my bike is controlled by my legs, and my outer thighs have become a spectacle worthy of fondling. In the moments when I could very easily lose control and skid along an icy or snowy road and I am able to make a deep connection with it and engage the powers of traction to come to a complete stop within two feet without the aid of a brake (I mean, I have one, but I hardly use it, so it doesn't make much difference when the pads are covered in ice and the cable is frozen in the housing anyway), I am reminded of the glory of having a human body. Frozen cheeks and sculpted quads can do a lot to make this girl feel really thankful for the gift of physical sensations.
1. Friends Make it More Fun
At the end of the day, I need to commute, and biking is my preferred method. I don't intend for my daily habits to turn me into a vigilante, but I also don't shy away from the self determined responsibility of educating people about bike culture. My passion exists regardless of the season. Winter simply brings with it a certain accountability. The precariousness of snow, the harshness of a wind chill, and the comfort of retreating from the world warrant that only the most resolute zealots are willing to marry their tires with the road.
Few things are as satisfying as seeing the conviction of friends manifest itself in a radical devotion that might, at times, take priority over personal comfort. But I won't lie. Sometimes I put on my mittens and ride my bike in the winter because it actually feels good to me.
Few things are as satisfying as seeing the conviction of friends manifest itself in a radical devotion that might, at times, take priority over personal comfort. But I won't lie. Sometimes I put on my mittens and ride my bike in the winter because it actually feels good to me.
Frozen or not, isn't feeling good even better with friends?
