In Which There Are Snowy Tyres

Tyres in the garage--next to my hybrid bike and road  bike, there is the snow blower, the kind of tyre I used on this cold, snowy Iowa day.

For me, biking season is on a hiatus of undetermined length. I was lucky in January to get some bicycling in, but since the Polar Vortex, the atmosphere has been volatile, with frequent bouts of sleet, freezing rain, and most, of all, snow.

The sun is supposed to shine tomorrow—but 6 inches of snow fell yesterday and overnight, and the temperature has dropped and the wind has picked up.

For now, my bicycles are parked in the garage. Tucked in between them in a snow blower, which has come in pretty handy this February.

This morning, the university where I teach opened a bit late, and I had been up until the wee hours working with students on the campus newspaper. So, the late start was great in terms of giving me time to clear the sidewalk and drive.

I had some trouble getting home—the snow was falling heavily when I attempted to leave campus, and my car was stuck in a parking place where the drifting snow rested on a bed of ice. Luckily, it is a front-wheel-drive manual-transmission car, and I was able to get it rocking back and forth until I was able to slide it out of the place. It was one of those snowy nights when a bicycle ride would have been darn near impossible, and a drive was rather dicey.

But, I made it home unscathed—and got stuck at the end of the driveway in the mountain of snow that had been scraped off the street. So in the dead of night, I was out there, an old man with a shovel, digging out the car and clearing a short path on the driveway.

The story ended well, in that the car was moved off the street and my aging heart did not break under the strain. That may be thanks to years of bike riding.

And up until this year, I had mostly been a shovel man, where snow is concerned. Three years ago, my wife and I decided it was time to join the mechanized age, at least where snow removal in concerned—then over a year ago, the starting chord on the snow blower broke. I bought a new one and tried to install it, but proved, as if I didn’t already know it, that I’m a better as a writer than as a mechanic.

Anyway, my older son found and ordered online a new chord unit for the snow blower, but he was visiting over Christmas 2017 and had to return home before installing it. Then, over Christmas 2018, my wife and younger son put the chord unit on.

I was worried about whether the snow blower would start—leaving small engines idle for a couple of years is probably not a good maintenance tip. Or at least I think so—but I’m a writer and biker and not a mechanic. Indeed, on one snowy morning in January, I tried to start the blower. For many pulls, probably 20 or so, there was nothing beyond a few coughs. And then the blower reluctantly growled to life. It ran roughly, but a roughly running snow blower was better for removing snow than a shovel and my aging back.

And since then, I’ve had lots of practice with the snow blower. There must have been crud built up in it that slowly got cleaned out, because these days, I set the choke, feel like I should say a brief prayer, and pull the chord—and, knock on wood, don’t want to jinx it, these days it’s a one-pull and go system.

I miss bike riding. We’re approaching the middle of February, and the forecast is not promising—cold, followed by snow, followed by cold, followed by snow.

But it is mid-February. I am grateful to family members that the wheels I use these days in my garage do help remove copious amounts of snow—this morning would have been very difficult without a snow blower. And the RAGBRAI route has been announced, plans are being laid for summer bicycle rides and the sun remains somewhere above the clouds for longer and longer each day.

It can’t come too soon—but bicycling in 2019 will resume. Before April Fools Day, I hope.