Why We Ride

Scot, on his commute home yesterday in some sort of dry hurricane:

I came very close to being simply swept into a car waiting alongside me at the light at MLK and Broadway. My teeth were sandpaper by the time I got home, and my face a circle of pitted dark encircling the clean patch of where my sunglasses had been.

It was crazy. Damn it was funny. And I’d do it again in a second, especially if I can keep my brain from realizing that I had a better than half-decent chance of being killed by a giant hunk of flying sheet metal or large, wind-blown cow yesterday.


  1. Living in Boulder, attempting to commute as many days as possible this past couple months, I’ve learned the sheltered ways. I did get blown down once as I coasted to a stop, and out of the wind shadow of a house. I had unclipped only on the upwind side. Now, it’s both.

    I’ll be glad to see warmer water in the central Pacific, I’m tired of pedaling down hills


  2. Yes, the winds on the Front Range have been brutal lately, offsetting the 70º temps. You can grit your teeth, but then you get sand in them…



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