The good stuff

I've been grumpy on here lately so allow me to sing the praises of the first snow. 

This past week, the snow came down to (more or less) stay. My studded tires went on Wednesday night, on an evening I suddenly had free from judo class because the storm was too bad. Thursday, I went out for groceries in steadily falling small icy snow. Studded tires are the absolute greatest. My car's winter tires weren't on yet (because I keep forgetting about my car) so there was something very freeing about riding along unconcerned, sure of the footing of my bike. 

Saturday night I was at a friend's until really late. It was snowing when I set out for his place at something like 6:30 pm, and already dark, of course. But the fresh snow was very sharp, icy, and sparkly in the light from my headlamp. It was a very pretty ride. And I knew several more centimetres were due down that night. 

Somewhere between 1:30 and 2:00 am, I left. The driveway was 10 centimeters deep or so. My friend said if the roads were really bad I could always crash in his spare room, but I figured it was only a matter of about seven kilometres home and I'd be fine. 

I was only really bothered by the suburban street immediately outside his place, as it turned out. When cars have been through even a few centimetres of snow, it compacts it in weird, unpredictable ways that twist your front tire and mess up your steering. I was getting a little annoyed with it after a block, but then I turned off the street to join the network of asphalt pedestrian paths that run through his neighbourhood. And for a bit at least, they'd even been plowed within the last couple of hours. I left happy, zoomy tire tracks in a thin layer of fluffy snow while more flakes fell around me. 

Stepping out of my friend's place, the whole neighbourhood had seemed lit up. Almost twilight. I guess the falling snow, and the snow on the ground, were just bouncing the available light around. It was nearly two in the morning and felt like day. 

A little further on, the path looked like it hadn't been plowed in a while, and it was a good thing I'm very familiar with it and knew where all the turns were. The snow was several centimetres deep, but fluffy, so although it was a little harder to pedal than usual, it didn't cause any steering problems. I just left deeper tracks behind me in the snow. 

Turning onto the cycletrack along Conroy Road, the plow had returned within the last couple of hours, and here I really zoomed. Everything was quiet. There were only a few cars on Conroy, which is a four-lane arterial, and the ones there were had been muted by the snow. I could see really well in the bright, weirdly lit up night, I felt visible with my lights and my dark jacket against the white snow, and my tires were muffled by the thin layer of snow on the path. 

This is what I love about that first snowfall. Especially at night. In November it's cold and very dark and often rainy, and the cars have winter tires on so they make more noise, and it's honestly not that much fun. But then that first snow happens, and you're bombing along through the snowflakes on quiet paths, and the cars are silenced, and the nights are bright, and the chill in the air wakes your cheeks up.

People will say you're "brave" for riding in the winter. I suppose I should tell them how nice it can be.