Where Does the Winter (time) Go?
Wherever that happens to be, apparently Old Man Winter has decided to stay well past his welcome this year.
I haven't been reading or paying much attention to anything involving riding lately. It just isn't in anyone's best interest to read posts by a guy who longs for more than a calendar spring. Just about the time the snows are mere piles where the white stuff has been shovelled or blown, another front moves through, coating the roads with sheets of ice. And then the plows. Blades up but dropping salt by the ton.
My neighbor Adrian has a 'Guzzi Bistro or Viso... Gristo? It's one of those machines you cannot help but love. And Adrian's kids are long out of school. Mine aren't. The few nice days I've seen him warming his machine have been days when my kids were home.
Not that I would choose a life different than the one I have. A bird in the hand and all that... Yet I can't help but wonder how the odds are so perfectly aligned to match those needle-in-a-haystack nice days with everything but free time to ride.
It's come to this; large carboard containers (which should have gone in the recycling bin months ago) are purposely set to block the view of the three two wheelers. Just to avoid that slight pain in my chest when I see them and wonder why we stay in this clime.
Winter's gasps are prolonged this time around. You just can't change the sun or the earth's orbit. We get what we get. But our way to combat ordinary weather is to drop tonnages of salt and sand so that the four wheelers (bless their cell phone implanted drivers' hearts) don't lose control because they're just moving too quickly for conditions.
The Ides of March have come and gone. The big bright orb in the sky burns away more of the cold wisps of winter each day. It rides higher and longer, fighting the eons old crank who sets upon us with each tilting of this vernal jousting match. Sorry but to me this part of spring always seems like a battle between time and balance. And if you're patient, balance seems to return in the end. It's just a matter of time.
So... in the immortal words of Carl Spackler, "I got that goin' for me".