All sorts of exciting things have happened to me while cycling lately. Last week, a gigantic salting truck (if you aren’?t familiar with salt trucks, you can see a picture here; you have to scroll down) passed me. Normally this only rates as a mildly hair-raising experience, since the drivers of such trucks tend to give me plenty of room, often moving into the other if they can, when passing me. Also, trucks carrying salt usually stop salting as they pass me or they make sure to pass with enough space that I don’?t get caught in the salt spray as they pass.
This driver did neither. Instead, he chose to pass close by me while continuing to operate his salt-spraying machinery. This meant that for several seconds I found myself inundated in a huge wave of salt, feeling it hit my face and body and hearing it clatter through my wheels and fenders. This experience irked me, because although I emerged unscathed, I could easily have been cut on my face or blinded by a flying piece of salt, not to mention having my bike damaged by having what amounts to lots of little pebbles flying into its chain and gears.
That excitement, however, pales in comparison to my cycling excitement from yesterday. Yesterday I decided to ride my bike to a friend’?s house about 25 miles away. Ian and I plotted a clever route involving about 5 miles of bike trail, 10 miles of riding on Route 117, and the remaining ten miles as miscellaneous navigating through towns. I set riding Davey off at about 2:15, fairly well bundled against the 28-degree, windy weather.
Almost immediately I ran into a snag that we should have anticipated: Unlike the well-treated roads, the bike trail remains suitable mainly for skiiers or snowshoers this time of year. Unfortunately, I only knew how to get to my destination via the bike trail. So I trudged for a mile or two, feeling angry and miserable, until finally I came to a cross-street and decided that I would find another way, even if I had to wander for hours.
Actually, I the second person I asked for directions proved quite helpful, and I made it to Route 62 easily enough. Once on Route 62, though, I became lost again, my maps somehow not seeming to correspond to the actual roads involved. Another kind person directed to Route 117, and thanks to her helpful references to landmarks, I found that road with no trouble.
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