![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7AsCr37P52m3NSsGHDwvOLnhIH-QAaIN33yI53Hd4sxtm_TQaOkEgMBO_YZjGaC_DGqsqr7a6EMWw1i1x7mffpZcWmMen6O7pQS62imdMDKRzcUItP8tX38AAnXNPwb-9nZjT3ITsFnM/s320/MountUp3.gif)
It was a cold commute in before 8am, about freezing, but clear and sunny. I took it on the chin knowing that it'd be worth it on the way home.
Coming out of work past 4pm it was about 10°C and windy, but I can go all day in ten degrees. I took the long way home, 27 kilometres of leafless trees, rivers with cubist banks of ice shoved into the new mud by our recent floods, and a sky so winter blue that it wriggles before your eyes; all while leaning into fifty kilometre hour gusts of wind. It was glorious!
I can still operate the bike without a thought, but I missed all sorts of apexes. I'm rusty with neglect.
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Note the snow pile in the middle of the road.... |
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The smug I-stole-one-from-winter face |
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Icy verge |