Friday, May 13, 2011

First day in shorts

The winter snow slowly melts into March, into April, and at some point I leave the house for my morning commute and don’t have to turn on headlights. I go from 3 layers and a wind suit to thermals to vests back to just a wind jacket until eventually the golden day comes, the day I contemplate for 6 months trudging through the snow and sleet and blizzard Wisconsin cold; the first day riding in shorts.

                The sun is creeping over the garage as I stand in the driveway. It’s early but reasonable. I take my time straightening leg warmers, arm warmers, wind vest; it’s going to be a beautiful day. I nudge onto the saddle and quietly coast down the driveway. The air is cool but for the first time this spring the sun is winning the battle. I soft pedal and stretch my legs, ease my back, roll my shoulders. I press gently as the first false flat comes and goes. My glasses fog slightly as I lean in and back and stand for a moment over the top. I turn into the tree canopy and pick up speed, jump quickly over the next rise and begin a long gradual drift down hill. I can hear the birds in the trees, smell the ground coming to life, taste the dampness from the road. Sunlight flickers through the branches and I peel back a sliver of leg warmer as a test before deciding today is the day. I bend down to unzip the cuffs as I continue to coast along, strip both legs down over shoes, then sit up and tuck the warmers into my back pocket. I laugh out loud a bit as the cool air touches my winter leg hair for the first time. I readjust my shorts, shake out my feet, swing soft lazy glass cranks as I continue to coast through the trees. I lean left around a long sweeping bend and even the moderate speed feels exhilarating. I break from the canopy and ease into a long uphill false flat. The spinning slowly turns to a press, to a push, to long drawn out big ring circles as I decide to test myself a bit. I start to sweat, my legs warm up, I feel strong, smooth, finally free of the heavy winter coverings. I can feel my toes, feel the arches of my feet, feel my ankles scoop at the bottom of each stroke. I remember what it feels like to ride a bike instead of just pedal. I shift down and stand smoothly out of the saddle over the last of the rise, stepping a slow controlled tempo, then back in the saddle breathing easy steady smiles. And the birds sing loudly and the sun blankets the fields and spring blends into the simple wonderful days of summer and as always I continue to roll along.