The War is Over!

Today is going to be 65 F.

Tomorrow and Sunday could even reach the 70s.

I'm looking about my window at the golden sunlight spilling westward like God has tossed a bucket of juicy, ripe, nutritious fruit rolling and bouncing down my street.

No more full-leg tights. No more neoprene gloves. No more loading up with baselayers and rainshells. No more breaking plastic, followed by my exasperated sighs. BikeWinter is over. It was badge of honor, to be sure. But a badge now frayed with age and wear. No longer relevant to the throngs spilling out onto the streets to the strains of Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony on shiny new rides and creaking, rusty deathtraps alike. Pedaling off to barbecues, the beach, and baggo games in the park.

The joy is growing to an unrestrained feverish pitch!

Turn up the heat. Bring on the rolling rivers of sweat and hot, black pavement. Bring on the paceline chatter, the impromtu King of the Mountain contests, the races and all the new friends.

Bring on the casual evening ride into the sunset to meet at the bar. Wearing nothing but your t-shirt and jeans.