Winter blahs

So here I am in mid January, driving in my truck on the way home from work, which by the way, gets in the way of my otherwise rock-star lifestyle, and the only thoughts on my mind are: 
A. Get on the bike, which is on the trainer, at home and do some miles tonight before I do an interview for the podcast.

B. I should’ve rode my motorcycle today since it was so nice out, only in the upper 40’s but still, nice enough to ride.
C. The weather for the upcoming week looks like crap with temperatures in the upper 30s.

Although I have managed to maintain at least 50 to 100 miles per week on the bicycle trainer, indoors. It does a little to satisfy my need to put on good miles, both on the bicycle, and on the Harley. 

Speaking of which, my dear sweet Sugar, that’s my Harley, has sat in the driveway covered and plugged in for the last month and a half. All I have managed is to start her up, check all the usual things and maybe take for a short trip down my dead end street. The weather has neither been acceptable nor cooperative enough for me to put in a significant ride. Unlike my bicycle, I cannot put my motorcycle on an indoor trainer of sorts, and ride it. That might create way too much toxic fumes,  it would be awfully loud and I doubt that the bike could fit inside my office.  I think the pets would object as well.

So this conundrum, that space, that we all experience and consume this time of year here in the Northeast of the United States, puts us all in a terrible state of moaning, groaning, bitching, complaining, and add your favorite negative adjective or expletive here. 

Topsider Resort, Islamorada, Florida Keys

Each evening when I turn on my computer and begin my usual slog through the barrage of emails and links I go through, more often than not, I see photographs and images of all types of men and women who are outdoors riding their motorcycles and their bicycles in fair  weather with blue skies and seemingly warm temperatures. All I can do is moan and let off with a disapproving grunt. Somewhere, deep down, I hate them. And this is nothing new, this is what we experience every year around the same time. And each year, we do nothing to improve that. Oh, we may vacation in some warm spot, spend hundreds and hundreds of dollars to rent a motorcycle or bicycle to bring us one week of joy and it only takes one day to see it washed down the drain the moment we step off whatever flight it is from whatever location, back into the dreary arctic environment.

This is the time of year when we always say to ourselves, “I’m really going to make an effort this year to ride a lot more”. And then we begin to peruse all the Internet sites looking for roads and destinations in warmer climates that we know, deep down, we know we will never see, not this year anyway.

So every few days, if you are like me, you go out to your motorcycle take off the cover, touch it, sit on it, start it up, check all the lights, beep the horn, rev it up a few times, and then shut it off. Then you cover it up, and go back in the house and sulk. If you’re a cyclist, like I am, you have your bike seemingly welded to your indoor trainer and that’s where remains until the slightest vestige of warm weather makes an appearance. Until such time, you will spend hours upon hours and miles upon miles riding in a virtual world giving “Thumbs Up” to your virtual cycling buddies on Zwift, to get yourself ready for the “riding season”. The sad part about that is… Well… It’s all sad. 

So in closing, I want to thank all of the motorcycle and bicycle magazines and catalogs, all the motorcycle and bicycle ads, for teasing me and making me consider a move to a warmer climate. Enticing me to look at real estate in said warmer climate. By the way, you suck.

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