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Thursday...Plop!
As many of you know I commute to work by bicycle. Now, this crazy devotion to environmentalism can more accurately be described as me being too cheap to pay for the bus. The commute is faster, cost less, and is good for my health as well. All convincing arguments for such a choice. But as mother nature has demonstrated, commuting in the winter can be a daunting challenge. Now the biblical flooding, incessant winds, and snow have done little to prevent my successful two mile trek. Mother Nature is tricky though. She makes you think you are weathering the storm, then pummels you when you are over confident. I had grown accustom to traveling to work. After completing what could be more accurately described as a triathlon, than a bike ride, I am greeted to the heroic cheers of my coworkers. Every time she threw more at me, the more determined I was to succeed. And then she throws the curve. 
Thursday was a beautifully crisp morning. I was flying down the waterfront at top speed--a magnificent view of the Olympics to the west and no sign of the normal head wind. What a perfect day to commute. As I flew through the last intersection before work, I noticed a small contingent of coworkers on the corner. I began to engage the turn onto the pier, when the ice beneath the tires snickered at my feeble attempt to maintain control. A silent skidding noise...and the smacking of flesh on concrete--ice cold concrete. The pain noticeable, but the humiliation crushing. I sit for a moment in my own self pity, strew along the side of the road like an unfortunate possum. Then a coworker yells out, "Hey Levi...are you ok?" Great, now everyone that didn't recognize me in my commuting clothes are all too aware of my current condition. He meant well, but how embarrassing. I yell back letting him know I am fine. The group crosses the street, eager to check on me and make sure all is in tact. The coworker trailing the group inadvertently walks over the same patch of nastiness, and Blamo!, another one bites the dust. She lets out a squeak, throws the coffee artfully in the air, and smashes solidly on her backside. Now there are two of us, victims of the same peril. I begin to laugh and manage to direct a thank you towards her. At least I am not the only one. What a spectacle for the motorist trapped at the light behind us.
As many of you know I commute to work by bicycle. Now, this crazy devotion to environmentalism can more accurately be described as me being too cheap to pay for the bus. The commute is faster, cost less, and is good for my health as well. All convincing arguments for such a choice. But as mother nature has demonstrated, commuting in the winter can be a daunting challenge. Now the biblical flooding, incessant winds, and snow have done little to prevent my successful two mile trek. Mother Nature is tricky though. She makes you think you are weathering the storm, then pummels you when you are over confident. I had grown accustom to traveling to work. After completing what could be more accurately described as a triathlon, than a bike ride, I am greeted to the heroic cheers of my coworkers. Every time she threw more at me, the more determined I was to succeed. And then she throws the curve. 
Thursday was a beautifully crisp morning. I was flying down the waterfront at top speed--a magnificent view of the Olympics to the west and no sign of the normal head wind. What a perfect day to commute. As I flew through the last intersection before work, I noticed a small contingent of coworkers on the corner. I began to engage the turn onto the pier, when the ice beneath the tires snickered at my feeble attempt to maintain control. A silent skidding noise...and the smacking of flesh on concrete--ice cold concrete. The pain noticeable, but the humiliation crushing. I sit for a moment in my own self pity, strew along the side of the road like an unfortunate possum. Then a coworker yells out, "Hey Levi...are you ok?" Great, now everyone that didn't recognize me in my commuting clothes are all too aware of my current condition. He meant well, but how embarrassing. I yell back letting him know I am fine. The group crosses the street, eager to check on me and make sure all is in tact. The coworker trailing the group inadvertently walks over the same patch of nastiness, and Blamo!, another one bites the dust. She lets out a squeak, throws the coffee artfully in the air, and smashes solidly on her backside. Now there are two of us, victims of the same peril. I begin to laugh and manage to direct a thank you towards her. At least I am not the only one. What a spectacle for the motorist trapped at the light behind us.
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