At 42 degrees Fahrenheit, it is cold enough to necessitate gloves for the ride into school. Nim and I discovered this the hard way this morning.
Moment of utter surprise: A Grim Cyclist in full fancy bike kit bedizened with the requisite logos riding along at a fast clip actually came out of his zone and said hi to me as he passed. I usually greet these Grim Cyclists excessively cheerfully in an effort to break through the training gloom (biking should be fun!); it usually doesn't work. This instance was especially unexpected, as I was riding slowly in mom clothes on the commute bike with fully-loaded bags on the back -- a sure indication of inanimate object status in the eyes of the typical too-too-focused Grim Cyclist. Thought I was hallucinating when he happily greeted me...
A prime candidate for Darwin in action: the Stanford student who rode out erratically in front of the truck in the dark the other night -- no lights, no helmet, flip-flops for shoes, all the while yakking on her cell phone. The truly scary thing is that this is not an uncommon occurrence around campus. You'd think they'd have more common sense. Argh.
I helped a rider who had toppled over and gotten tangled with her bike at an intersection near work the other day. Ow. Pay attention!
An entertaining read: Bike Snob: Systematically & Mercilessly Realigning the World of Cycling. Go find it in your library.
Most charming of all, Chad and Nimue spent quite some time together in the garage cleaning out several years of accumulated gunk from her wheels while I made dinner the other night. It seemed quite educational, and the look of joy on her face as she realized how easily everything now spins as she pedaled out the next morning was delightful. "I'm in gear five and it feels like gear two!!!"