Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, and Me

I didn't see the temperature get above 7 degrees (F) today. It was definitely chilly, but still, I couldn't escape the itch to get outside and have a little adventure. If there were a bit more accumulation, I'd break out the cross country skis. But the weeds are still poking through the snow, so biking it is.
The sun glancing over the horizon at a low angle, everything is so quiet, so still. Even in the middle of the city, it feels a little lonely. Mostly I hear the crunch of snow beneath my tires, and the sound of the cold air grating across my lungs.

I'd really like to encourage anyone who loves cycling but thinks it's not possible to ride in the snow to give it a try (oh my dear neighbor and summer riding buddy, I'm talking to you). I'm the kid who got picked last in gym class. If I were in a gym class today, I'd probably still get picked last. If I can ride in the snow, I'd think most anyone can.
Winter cycling holds all the same appeal to me as summer cycling. It's the best way I know to adjust my attitude. But really, it's just plain fun; I wouldn't go out otherwise. As I mush down the trail, I find myself making that nervous giggle which is equal parts "weeeee, this is fun!" and "uh-oh, I think I'm gonna crash." And when I get home, I can't wipe the smile off of my face.