C
cycle-one
Guest
Just finished my first ride of the season. Which is not to say the first
ride of the year. But this is the first day that was spring-like that I was
able to get some saddle time.
Temp 14 C
Winds South 20 kmh
Everything is soggy and sodden so I stick to the paths. Plenty of time
later in the season for the off road stuff. Although mostly swept up there
is still a residue in places of that salt/sand crud from winter. The city
street sweepers are hard at work vacuuming up the debris.
I start off going south: Even the stone dust paths are springy; still
swollen with the spring melt. In some places the paths are outright muddy -
waiting for the works department to redust them and fill weather-heaved
potholes. Even some of the paved slopes are showing wear, roots straining
mightily to break through.
I loop around to head north for the river trail. The tended grass of the
sports fields as well as its wilder cousins lie in mats of yellow torpor:
Last years growth. But amongst this years soggy loam greenery is starting to
appear. The grass is so wet it squelches.
At the river the geese and ducks are sizing up their territory, looking for
prime nesting sites. The shoreline seems almost naked. Instead of lush
greenery there are skeletons of leafless branches, from mature trees to
stick jungles of bush stems bereft of foliage. Even the 'colour seems faded.
It's as if the winter has sapped some of their colour as well.Though close
up the buds of new growth have begun to appear.
More than a few people are out and about. There is nothing so amusing as
Canadians drinking in the first days of springlike weather - even after a
mild winter. And all those wonderful young ladies shedding their parkas to
drink in sun certainly provide motivation.
I ride the east/west length of the river trail, down on one side, returning
on the other. After a winter of mostly stationary biking I exhilarate in the
_motion_, the movement. Rather than the futility of stationary cycling my
effort is being transformed into results.
I sprint just in the sheer joy of going faster. In some of the soggier
parts I become mud splattered. That is all to the good as well. A squirrel
darts about, joining the ducks and geese in rooting out the first morsels of
the new season.
The river itself has given up it's leaden winter pallor. It reflects the
washed out blue of the sky. The wind has also changed it's character.
Although brisk and bracing in a manner that you feel deep in your lungs it
lacks the bite of a winter winds. It is welcome in carrying of the
perspiration.
Having retraced the river back to my street I head south again up from the
river. The exertion is enjoyable, like an old friend. The dormant muscles in
my legs recall that familiar cycle - different from swimming, different from
even the stationary bike. The upslope beckons me to sprint harder.
Not a long ride, maybe 20 km. Just a shakeout to start the season. But that
indefinable something about fresh air exercise compared to indoor gives
double the effect somehow.
I hope tomorrow is nice as well.
ride of the year. But this is the first day that was spring-like that I was
able to get some saddle time.
Temp 14 C
Winds South 20 kmh
Everything is soggy and sodden so I stick to the paths. Plenty of time
later in the season for the off road stuff. Although mostly swept up there
is still a residue in places of that salt/sand crud from winter. The city
street sweepers are hard at work vacuuming up the debris.
I start off going south: Even the stone dust paths are springy; still
swollen with the spring melt. In some places the paths are outright muddy -
waiting for the works department to redust them and fill weather-heaved
potholes. Even some of the paved slopes are showing wear, roots straining
mightily to break through.
I loop around to head north for the river trail. The tended grass of the
sports fields as well as its wilder cousins lie in mats of yellow torpor:
Last years growth. But amongst this years soggy loam greenery is starting to
appear. The grass is so wet it squelches.
At the river the geese and ducks are sizing up their territory, looking for
prime nesting sites. The shoreline seems almost naked. Instead of lush
greenery there are skeletons of leafless branches, from mature trees to
stick jungles of bush stems bereft of foliage. Even the 'colour seems faded.
It's as if the winter has sapped some of their colour as well.Though close
up the buds of new growth have begun to appear.
More than a few people are out and about. There is nothing so amusing as
Canadians drinking in the first days of springlike weather - even after a
mild winter. And all those wonderful young ladies shedding their parkas to
drink in sun certainly provide motivation.
I ride the east/west length of the river trail, down on one side, returning
on the other. After a winter of mostly stationary biking I exhilarate in the
_motion_, the movement. Rather than the futility of stationary cycling my
effort is being transformed into results.
I sprint just in the sheer joy of going faster. In some of the soggier
parts I become mud splattered. That is all to the good as well. A squirrel
darts about, joining the ducks and geese in rooting out the first morsels of
the new season.
The river itself has given up it's leaden winter pallor. It reflects the
washed out blue of the sky. The wind has also changed it's character.
Although brisk and bracing in a manner that you feel deep in your lungs it
lacks the bite of a winter winds. It is welcome in carrying of the
perspiration.
Having retraced the river back to my street I head south again up from the
river. The exertion is enjoyable, like an old friend. The dormant muscles in
my legs recall that familiar cycle - different from swimming, different from
even the stationary bike. The upslope beckons me to sprint harder.
Not a long ride, maybe 20 km. Just a shakeout to start the season. But that
indefinable something about fresh air exercise compared to indoor gives
double the effect somehow.
I hope tomorrow is nice as well.
