Raynine
Platinum Member
- Oct 28, 2023
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There is nothing new under the sun and we should know that. We rose from our beds today to a winter wonderland when spring was on course in what looked like calm seas. But nothing is as it seems in this neck of the woods, and we get amnesia at regular intervals. There is a flaw in the wiring of human brains that makes us forget quickly. Yes, the volcano smokes but it has always smoked. It is just smoke, as they said on Pompei and Herculaneum. But where there is smoke there is a fire, and that is what we forget. I forgot just like you and I was going to get on my bike today, but I should have known better, and I did know better, I just forgot. This was not new.
I remember getting up on April 6, 1982, and riding my bike to work. I lived about four miles from my work, so it was no big deal that morning. I was a runner in those days not a cyclist. I had planned to run a footrace, the Monadnock Spring Runoff, that weekend. I can’t recall if that race was a five-miler or a 10k. I do recall I was livid because they cancelled the race. Things were different in those days. The new liberal religion of Climate Change was in its infancy and people were not blaming their neighbors for the weather yet.
I wasn’t riding my bike for the climate anyway. My wife and I had only one car and I was doing it mainly for her. Like now, there was not a lick of snow on the ground in Keene that morning and I dreamed of hitting the roads in my new running shoes, my first pair designed specifically for running. I believe they were “Brooks”, the only actual running shoes they had in my size.
I got to work and parked my bike in a rack outside the window I peered through for twenty years. My bike was the only bike in that rack. It was spring and things were going well with little flowers already popping up from under the grass. Birds were singing and bees were buzzing. The sights, sounds, and fragrances of spring were everywhere. My heart was as happy as a heart could be at the start of a workday. I would mount that bike in the afternoon so I could lace up those new shoes when I got home!
At about ten o’clock that morning New England reality came calling. The Morning sun went into hiding and a gray curtain came across the sky like an old analogue television that went offline. Then, little spits of snow started parachuting like advance troops landing among the dandelions. I began talking to myself like I often did amid the whir of machines in the plant because I knew no one could hear me even though my lips were moving. My diatribe was enhanced by a nervous giggle as I said: Yeah, right! Snow? Ha! Ha! It’s just a temporary thing, like a joke! It will all be over in a few minutes and I will have a good laugh!
That is not what happened. The snow troops became a mass invasion led by Captain January and the element of surprise was as complete as Pearl Harbor. My bike and I were sitting ducks! As hours ticked by intensity increased and my bike began disappearing like a dogsled on the tundra. My heart sank and I tried to soothe myself with positive thoughts. I could ask someone for a ride home but that would mean I am a quitter and a fool. No way. I wanted to show the world what I was made of and that is what I did.
By four o’clock the bike was buried to the seat, and I fished through my toolbox for a pair of work gloves to protect my hands. I picked up the frame and realized rolling it would be impossible because of the snow depth, about two feet. I lifted the frame over my head and started the long trudge home. I made my way to West Street with thigh-deep snow draining energy like quicksand. A large truck with a plow on it had a driver looking at me while pointing to the sky. At least that’s what I think he was doing. His finger was straight up in the air, and he was yelling at me!
I pressed on with my polar journey determined to get to my destination with my equipment. What took me less than fifteen minutes just hours earlier took an hour and half of excruciating effort with frozen hands and feet. My lungs were burning, and my muscles were exhausted as at last I collapsed at the foot of the steps on my front porch.
Did I learn anything? Apparently not.
upi.com
Massive Nor'easter blitzes New England - UPI Archives
A 'dangerous' spring snowstorm -- one of the worst in memory - roared up the East Coast Tuesday blitzing New England with white-out snows and high winds,...
I remember getting up on April 6, 1982, and riding my bike to work. I lived about four miles from my work, so it was no big deal that morning. I was a runner in those days not a cyclist. I had planned to run a footrace, the Monadnock Spring Runoff, that weekend. I can’t recall if that race was a five-miler or a 10k. I do recall I was livid because they cancelled the race. Things were different in those days. The new liberal religion of Climate Change was in its infancy and people were not blaming their neighbors for the weather yet.
I wasn’t riding my bike for the climate anyway. My wife and I had only one car and I was doing it mainly for her. Like now, there was not a lick of snow on the ground in Keene that morning and I dreamed of hitting the roads in my new running shoes, my first pair designed specifically for running. I believe they were “Brooks”, the only actual running shoes they had in my size.
I got to work and parked my bike in a rack outside the window I peered through for twenty years. My bike was the only bike in that rack. It was spring and things were going well with little flowers already popping up from under the grass. Birds were singing and bees were buzzing. The sights, sounds, and fragrances of spring were everywhere. My heart was as happy as a heart could be at the start of a workday. I would mount that bike in the afternoon so I could lace up those new shoes when I got home!
At about ten o’clock that morning New England reality came calling. The Morning sun went into hiding and a gray curtain came across the sky like an old analogue television that went offline. Then, little spits of snow started parachuting like advance troops landing among the dandelions. I began talking to myself like I often did amid the whir of machines in the plant because I knew no one could hear me even though my lips were moving. My diatribe was enhanced by a nervous giggle as I said: Yeah, right! Snow? Ha! Ha! It’s just a temporary thing, like a joke! It will all be over in a few minutes and I will have a good laugh!
That is not what happened. The snow troops became a mass invasion led by Captain January and the element of surprise was as complete as Pearl Harbor. My bike and I were sitting ducks! As hours ticked by intensity increased and my bike began disappearing like a dogsled on the tundra. My heart sank and I tried to soothe myself with positive thoughts. I could ask someone for a ride home but that would mean I am a quitter and a fool. No way. I wanted to show the world what I was made of and that is what I did.
By four o’clock the bike was buried to the seat, and I fished through my toolbox for a pair of work gloves to protect my hands. I picked up the frame and realized rolling it would be impossible because of the snow depth, about two feet. I lifted the frame over my head and started the long trudge home. I made my way to West Street with thigh-deep snow draining energy like quicksand. A large truck with a plow on it had a driver looking at me while pointing to the sky. At least that’s what I think he was doing. His finger was straight up in the air, and he was yelling at me!
I pressed on with my polar journey determined to get to my destination with my equipment. What took me less than fifteen minutes just hours earlier took an hour and half of excruciating effort with frozen hands and feet. My lungs were burning, and my muscles were exhausted as at last I collapsed at the foot of the steps on my front porch.
Did I learn anything? Apparently not.
upi.com
Massive Nor'easter blitzes New England - UPI Archives
A 'dangerous' spring snowstorm -- one of the worst in memory - roared up the East Coast Tuesday blitzing New England with white-out snows and high winds,...
But props to the dumb things we did when we were younger.
