Thursday, November 18, 2010

Where all the bugs go to heaven

It's that time of year--just about the best for biking, at least in the morning.

It was a bit breezy and brisk this a.m., but that's what warm socks and nylon were invented for. I like a nice summer bike ride, wearing shorts and a T-shirt, zooming along through green trees along a bike trail--but I'm a big guy. I stand 6 feet tall, have a stocky fram and am what fat people who want a lame excuse would call "big boned."

In my socks sans any rocks, I still would tip the scales at something more than 240 pounds.

Pause while you think sympathetic thoughts about my poor bicyclce.

Anyway, the thing about a thick mass of biological goo covered in an insulating layer of blubber is that when the large muscles of that goo are activated, heat results. Lots of heat.

I can deal with the results in summer by drinking lots of water while I riding and showering as soon after as I can.

But, it's nice not to have results to deal with.

Winter rides present the challenge of using lights in the evening. But a cool November morning is the ideal bike ride. First, the frost has zapped all irritating insect life. And second?

No sweat.

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