It’s Still Like a Secret
Just now, I went out on a short bike ride. I have found that with riding my bike to work and back every day, I often lose sight of the fact that I truly love riding my bike for pleasure.
It is extraordinarily cold out today, but after the horrors of last winter, I am now incredibly prepared to dress appropriately for cold-weather biking. As I hopped on my bike this morning, I found myself quite pleased with how comfortable I was, despite the 28 degree temperature. The sun was fully out and beaming its glorious rays onto my face. Was I cold? Yes, very much so. But comfortable, for sure.
I rode west and then south, through the trenches of what is known as South Philly. The morning was relatively quiet and calm, still almost like a mid-summer afternoon. Here and there the sounds of a truck backing up, or the birds in the trees that nestle the power lines. Every few blocks I would get stopped by a crossing guard ushering school kids across a not-busy intersection. I didn’t seem to mind.
I parked my bike by my bank so I could step inside and get some cash out of the ATM, and also warm my hands for a bit. A scruffy but polite older gentleman held the door to the inner lobby open for me, not realizing I was just stopping at the ATM in the foyer. Oh, no thanks, I’m staying right here, I said to him. He said Oh alright, well have a great day.
I hopped back on my bike and rode a few more blocks down to the local soft pretzel joint. It was 10am and 28 degrees, and the pretzel joint is just a walk-up window with no seats anywhere, so of course I was the only one there. I waited for the portly lady inside to see me and open the window. She was wearing a winter coat. What’ll it be? she asks. I could smell the fresh-baked carb-and-salt goodness mixing with the crispness of the morning air; it’s a special blend of perfect that is exceedingly rare. Just four pretzels, please. A few seconds later she handed me a brown paper bag and I handed her four bucks. I took my backpack off and slid my precious cargo inside. All the way home, I could feel the warmth on my back, as the pretzels heated the inside of my bag. At stop signs, I could even smell them. In the cold, still morning, I had a little bag of warmth and perfection riding on my back, like a secret.
November 20, 2014 at 1:21 AM
The real secret is the harm you’re doing to your body with all those carbs. HARM!!!